#i usually don't do posts like these but i feel so ashamed
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taestripes · 9 months ago
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HELP I'M KINDA AFTER DRONK AND REALIZED I ACCIDENTALLY SENT A MESSAGE TO MY MOOT AND IT'S SO EMBOARASSING I SWEAR Y'ALL GON SEE ME NOW IN 2030 CUZ IM DONE
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nostalgia-tblr · 2 years ago
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I had another fic idea and the brain was like "no, that's too fluffy and romantic and YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO WRITE NICE THINGS, PEOPLE WOULD JUDGE YOU" but then I went "but what if it was kind of... comedy fluff?" and brain went "...yeah, okay, if you really must." Which I fucking HATE! Why can't I write nice things, brain?! Everyone else is allowed to! FFS, it's fanfiction, it doesn't have to be ~deep~ or any of that shit!
This has actually been a bit of an issue when I'm trying to write The WIP because while I told myself yeah sure go ahead and write the massively self-indulgent epically long (by my own odd standards) fic but still sometimes I get stuck because I'm not "allowed" to write something that appeals to me and my own sometimes niche interests??
Like angst I can do because that's "proper" somehow? WTF is that about? It's not proper! It's still daft! And comedy I'm allowed because I dunno apparently if it will make someone laugh that means it has "value"? It's very annoying, I don't like it.
Do other people have this? How do you deal with it? You'd think after all this time I'd be okay with writing any old shit that I want to. If anything it might be worse now. I remember years ago I could tell myself "Look, if you've spelled most of it correctly then it's already in like the better half of all the fanfic on the internet" which isn't really TRUE but I could go along with that and let myself write whatever-the-fuck I wanted to.
You know how many of us go "I'll write this fucked up thing... but I'll post it as Anon"? I get that with fluffy fic ideas as well. Or with things that are "too shippy" (WTF?) It's just such a stupid and weird form of self-criticism and it bothers me a lot.
#ranting at myself#writing stuff#possibly this is a mental illness thing but i don't think it is but it might be?#i am Quite Mad but it usually manifests related to fic as the usual “you suck!!” or irritating OCD things about wordcounts or such#this is a VERY SPECIFIC thing and i don't even know where it came from?#maybe i'm just pretentious? do i look pretentious? i might be?#(the fluffy thing was sylki fic where spinning off on the 'oh no unable to express feelings!' they have to pass each other notes)#(the comedy element was that this is Bloody Stupid and also Mobius attempts to Help (oh no) and etc)#(will i ever be able/“allowed” to actually write that thing? dunno!)#the Frigga thing also suffers from “that bit is despicably adorable you should be ASHAMED of yourself”#.The WIP? currently stuck at “okay now he needs to Hold The Baby. this is an important bit you can't skip it. but babies are Too Twee”#“so you may NOT just write someone Holding The Baby because that's like something people might actually want to read!”#“the murders are fine you can write murders. murder isn't twee. babies are VERY twee though.”#PROBLEM: there are several babies in this fic and the next chapter is like... ENTIRELY baby-based#(the end of the entire fic is already written and it's Too Twee as well but i've kind of gone immune to that because it's existed a while)#(oh no did i just spoiler a Happy Ending?!)#(SPOILER: kind of. it depends who you backed in this race and whether you wanted them to Become Better People)#anyway am gonna post this now before i change my mind as i probably should#fic related
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jensthwa · 4 months ago
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show & tell (SMG x reader).
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part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.
SUMMARY:
You have known Mingi since you both were fourteen. You’ve been by his side through thick and thin and you would do anything for him, really, considering he’s your other half. When he has an unfortunate bed experience and asks for your help and you say yes, he starts considering that, maybe, you’re just the best friend a guy like him can have.
PAIRING: best friend!mingi x afab reader.
GENRE: childhood best friends to ?
WORD COUNT: 8k.
WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, wooyoung being a little shit, hwa being the voice of reason, sex talk, pet names (love and also dude and bro but in a sweet way), mingi scaring the sense out of you, descriptions of female anatomy, kissing, dirty talk (sort of), teasing, a little bit of voyeurism, fingering, squirting, almost getting caught, unresolved feelings.
NOTES: had to do a lot of research for this one, so i figured nothing better to post as my first fic here! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3
POSTED: july 18th 2024.
masterlist. / part two.
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“Delete her number right now!” 
“She's such a bitch for saying that to you…” 
“And over text too? Wow.” 
“Yeah, no, I didn't like her from the start.” 
Wooyoung’s living room comes to life once again that morning, voices echoing and insults flying out, all towards the girl Mingi’s seeing. 
Was seeing. You're sure she's out of his usual rotation with the lovely shit show she just caused. 
You stay silent, your eyes fixed on your best friend's expression, on his red cheeks and apologetic eyes because everyone told him that girl was bad news. 
He should've listened to you when you told him you liked her friend better. She was a sweet girl, clearly had a thing for Mingi. 
Unfortunately, Mingi has a type. And that type always ends up breaking his spirit one way or another. 
But you stay silent, letting your friends have their little rants about how much of a bitch she is for hurting Mingi's ego like that, until he covers up his face with his hands and lets out a frustrated whine. 
“That's enough, everyone. I think he got it.” You smile a little and everyone turns to you, Yunho’s chest heaving and everything but Seonghwa (who also kept his mouth shut all this time) interferes before anyone else has the chance to start again.
“You know you shouldn't feel ashamed for that, right?” he asks Mingi, who slowly lowers his hands to his lap and looks at you for a brief second. You nod, confirming what Hwa says “No one is born knowing everything and she shouldn't expect you to know how to make a girl squirt.” 
“Jesus Christ,” Mingi whines again, closing his eyes “Don't say it like that.” 
“How else should I say it?” Seonghwa is confused but he laughs a little bit and turns to you. 
Being the only girl in the room, you think everyone it's expecting you to pick your friend up and join them in their insults but you can't (for Mingi’s sake). Instead, you let out a sigh “I mean, it's hard to even make it happen on your own without any help, Mingi. I don't know what the fuck she's on but…” shrugging, you extend your arm to pat him in the shoulder two times “Hwa’s right.” 
“So you do know?” 
“Woo—” Hongjoong reprimands right away and you turn to Wooyoung, confused.
“Huh?” 
“You said that it's hard making it happen,” he explains, smiling because he just found a new target for the next few days “So you must know.” 
Talking about sex with them was never difficult, it didn't make you uncomfortable whatsoever but you know what Woo is doing. 
You look down at Mingi before answering though and his eyes are glued to the carpet, begging for the topic of his unfortunate encounter with that bitch to die on everyone's tongue. 
So you take mercy on him. 
“Oh. I mean… Yeah.” You shrug once again, leaning back against the cushions on the couch while Wooyoung claps like he just heard the most hilarious joke ever. 
“You truly are amazing.” 
Rolling your eyes, you get up from your comfy seat “Sure. But it took a lot of practice and the whole ordeal was frustrating for me, so, again, I don't know what the fuck she was on,” you say again, smiling down at Mingi before taking a few steps towards the door “It's noon already, by the way.” 
“Shit.” Woo gets up quickly from his spot on the floor and everyone else follows suit. 
“Alright, everyone out! We have a midterm to cheat on.” San calls out and everyone takes it as their sign to actually leave (not just hang around the apartment) and continue with their days. 
This reunion was a little impromptu, just because Wooyoung texted everyone begging to come over and hang out with him and San before their online philosophy midterm. 
“And by that he means that you need to stay,” Wooyoung hugs Seonghwa hard, almost begging him with his eyes “We didn't study… Don't look at me like that! Please?” 
“I'm not doing your fucking midterm for you!”
You chuckle, leaning on the door and waiting for your ride home to get his shoes on. When you look down at him again, Mingi mouths a thank you and you blow him a kiss. 
When you get downstairs, you swear you still hear Wooyoung begging his senior to take the test for him. 
Everyone is quiet in the car. You can tell they're tired from exams and life in general, so you don't press them with questions and just let the music play in the background while you look out the passenger window and, eventually, at Mingi. 
His grip on the steering wheel lets you know he's a little more affected than he let on back there. But, again, you say nothing. 
You know better than to pressure him into telling you his feelings. 
Mingi and you have been friends forever. He lived a few houses down from yours, becoming your first friend when you moved to the city. You both were fourteen when it happened, so you've known him long enough to know what happens when he gets his heart broken. 
Not that Mingi loved that girl or anything, but he never really took embarrassment well. He didn't when the first girl he liked rejected him in front of the whole ninth grade class and he didn't when his pants ripped in the middle of the stage while performing a routine with his dance team on senior year. 
You stood by his side every single time and every single time he waited to sit down and let everything out, collect his feelings and talk to you through his frustrations. You really loved that about him, because he never said anything he regretted just because he was upset at the moment. 
Maybe that's why you two have been friends for so long. Opposites attract, or whatever your mother told you one time. 
In reality, you think it's because you two complement each other well. 
He knows when to speak his mind and you're kind of impulsive, heart on your sleeve and sharp tongue ready to defend your and your loved ones honor if needed. 
That's why it takes a lot of strength for you to not pull up that girl's number from his phone and give her a piece of your mind. 
One by one, you drop your friends off in different parts of the city and when it's time to go into your own house, you circle the car and Mingi rolls his window down.
He reads the look you give him a little too well, so he opens his mouth to stop you but you shake your head. 
“Call me, come over or just let me know if you need anything,” you start before he says anything “If you need me to beat her up, I can do that too.” 
He huffs out a laugh “You don't even know how to fight, love.”
You sigh at the nickname, he's been using it since the time you told him you had a crush on his friend, way bsck in highschool, and that you were positive you were going to get together and he would csll you love because that's what good boyfriend's do. 
Turns out, you weren't exactly his friends type. Neither were the other girls in your school. 
“I don't give a shit, I'll do it,” You two smile to each other fondly for a few seconds and then you tap the top of the car “Thanks for the ride, dude.” 
“You’re welcome, bro.” He rolls his eyes, annoyed because he hates when you call him that, but waits for you to get inside either way. 
And in the solitude of your room, you wait. 
You distract yourself with papers that are due in a few days, you start studying for your finals even though they're months away and you even go downstairs to say goodbye to your parents when they leave for a fancy dinner with their colleagues before you hear your phone ring. 
Mingi's FaceTime comes right on time, because you were getting really anxious from the radio silence on his end. 
“I have a small query for you.” He puts on an accent that makes you grimace immediately and he laughs at you. 
“Ew. Never do that ever again,” you beg, going back upstairs to your room “Go ahead.” 
“How do you do it?” 
“Excuse me?” 
“How the fuck do you make yourself squirt, love?” 
Oh. 
Definitely not the conversation you were hoping to have with him. 
It caughts off guard and you stammer your response “Um… You— I mean, it's not really a thing I can explain.” 
“You have such a way with words, though.” 
You stare at him through the screen, annoyed, and he just laughs again “Don't make me come over and beat you up.” 
“Alright, alright,” his giggling dies out and you distract yourself from the heat you feel creeping over your cheeks while putting away your statistics prep for the quiz you have next week. There's a bit of silence and then you hear him sigh “I do really want to know, though.” 
“If you're asking me this to then go over to her house and prove her wrong, I'm not telling you shit.” 
“No! No, that's not it at all,” he defends himself quickly when you turn your head to the camera, scowl in your face “When she asked me to do it, I really did try to make her, you know…” 
“You said squirt so freely a minute ago, Mingi,” you tease, smiling, but at his expression, you give in “What exactly did you do?” 
“I tried to, you know, do it like they do it in the movies,” he demonstrates his point with his free hand, his middle and ring finger down on his sheets, pressing and moving side to side “And she was enjoying it and she came, but nothing really… came out.” 
“Wow, first of all: you make her come and she has the nerve to give you shit over text? I hate her,” you shake your head, disappointment written all over your face “and second of all, that was a terrible mistake.” 
“What? Going like this?” He does it again and you roll your eyes, laughing a second later. 
“No, dude, trying to porno your way into making her squirt.” 
“Oh.” His movements on the sheets slow down and you grimace again. 
“Please stop doing that,” you beg and he snaps out of his thoughts to look at you through the screen. You take your phone and move to the bed, resting your head against the pillows with a huff. 
You ponder for a moment. You're sure telling him what he wants to hear it's not really a threat to your friendship, but it's also something that's very personal and intimate. You can talk about sex with Mingi and the other guys, sure, what doesn't mean you tell them about your sex life. 
Maybe that's why Wooyoung was so excited earlier today, because you spilled something that involves you directly and not something vague and general like you usually do. 
“Would it give you peace of mind if I explained it to you?” You ask, your voice barely a whisper as you sit straight on the bed. 
Your best friend takes what feels like a lifetime to respond and, when does, it's in a hushed tone as well “Please.” 
You groan and you comply either way, trying to find the right words to even start “Okay, I'm going to be very technical about this.” 
“I wouldn't expect anything else from you.” 
His teasing tone makes you glare at him for a few seconds before dismissing it with a click of your tongue “The very first thing you need to make sure happens, is that you wash your hands—” 
“Yes, Y/N, I'm not a virgin,” he huffs this time, annoyed “I know all of that, just skip to the part where I make her squirt.” 
“Jesus, fine! I also want to clarify that this works on me and I'm not really sure if it'll work on anyone else, alright?” he nods and you look away from the screen because you're not sure how to look him in the eyes “The first thing that I do— The first thing that you need to do,” you correct yourself quickly “Is make sure she's comfortable. And I mean, the space. Towels, water bottles… She needs to hydrate a lot.” 
“Hydrate… a… lot…” You turn your head to the screen and your jaw goes slack at what you see. 
“Are you writing this down?!” 
“I’m making sure I don't forget anything!” 
“You're unbelievable…” You let out under your breath and take a deep one before resuming the, apparently, class “Squirting can be confused as peeing and—” 
“Shit, hold on.” He interrupts and you hear his mom’s voice at the door, asking him something you can't really catch through the shitty airpod audio “It's just Y/N… I'm not really saying anything so I don't understand how I'm being too loud for— Yes ma'am.” 
You try not to laugh because he's literally being scolded right in front of you. 
Old habits die hard, and Mingi's mom loves to put him on the spot. 
Your laugh dies hard as well, because the next words, for some reason, make your heart drop to your ass. 
“She's telling me to either cut it out or go to your house, so… I'm coming over.” 
“Oh, I— Hello?” Your lockscreen mocks you because the call literally ended before you could tell him to go and fuck himself “Shit.” 
You don't know why you panic, but you do. You tidy up the room, you change your pijamas into something more presentable and you try to remember what were you telling him before he pulls open your bedroom door. 
“Mingi! Fuck, you scared the shit out of me “ you're panting, hand over your chest. 
He’s also panting, like he runned to get to your house, but he looks dumbfounded by your reaction “Your mom literally gave me the spare keys in your presence.”  
When he steps closer, you notice he's wearing cologne and that his hair it's a little wet, still, so you figure he took a shower before calling you tonight. 
Which means he probably wanted to sleep everything off, like he usually does, but whatever this is made him call you. 
“Yeah! But I thought you— Nevermind.” He shrugs and gives your hair a kiss before he moves to sit at your desk, the same way he usually does when he steals your laptop and notes to complete his assignments for the few classes you share. 
God. Somehow, you wish he was doing just that so it brings back some sense of normalcy. Maybe then, your heart can calm down enough for you to understand why this specific situation has your senses going insane. 
You sit back down on your bed and try to get your heart back to its place in the meantime. 
“They're not home, right? I didn't see your dad’s car.” 
“Company dinner.” 
“Ah.” He nods and you both fall in uncomfortable silence. It shouldn't be awkward, but it kind of is, even if you laugh when he pulls out the notebook he was writing on from underneath his oversized shirt and steals a pen from your pencil case, it's still a little weird. 
You gulp. 
“So, squirting can be confused as peeing.” He recalls the last thing you said with a smile and then he turns to look at you for a second “Go on.” 
You're grateful he's taking notes all of the sudden. He's turned to you, so you have a clear view of his back and you can freely take a grounding breath before continuing “It can make you feel very uncomfortable if you think you're going to pee yourself and that's really why most women don't squirt in the first place.” 
“You sound like you're reading a text book.” He confesses with a laugh. 
“I told you, I'm being very technical about this— Besides, I did my research when I was trying to…” you gulp again “You know.” 
“You said squirt so freely a minute ago.” Mingi teases you the same way you teased him earlier and you squint your eyes in return. 
“Very funny. Anyways… Yeah, when you feel that, you usually tense up. You need to relax before even making it happen,” he nods, writing it down quickly “I also read that, depending on the person, you can confuse the liquid with, like, usual… arousal? Yeah, arousal” you sound more confident the second time you say it, unsure on how to call it because you never really explained anything related to your vagina to anyone else. 
He turns to you, confused “So… If she doesn't squirt a lot, how can I tell if she did it?” 
“I guess you'll notice it in her reaction?” You shrug and then cough a little to try and get rid of the sudden lump on your throat “I mean, it's not my case, so I wouldn't… I wouldn't know that.” 
Mingi, because -you guess- hates you, just raises a brow and looks you over one time before turning back to his notes. 
“A-anyways,” you cough again “It's all in her g-spot. It happens because it gets stimulated and that g-spot it's like…” you, once again, try to find the ideal words to explain “It's like the upper wall of the vagina? No, no, that's not right,” you see him draw a line over what he clearly wrote down on the paper and you laugh, apologetic “It's more like the, uh… Like the front wall of it.” 
“Front wall?” 
“Y-yeah?” you offer, nervous and unsure “I mean… Ugh, let me explain again. Something that you need to take into account is that you can only find it if she's really, really turned on.” 
“O… kay.” 
“Sort of like when you get hard we, uh, also get hard. Just differently,” you notice he's no longer taking notes when you turn to him again and the room is suddenly very hot. 
The AC’s on, right? 
Fuck. 
“And apparently it only really shows up when you're really aroused. The g-spot, I mean,” Quickly, you're up from your bed and walking around it, fetching your water bottle and taking a big gulp of it with your eyes closed. 
Mingi clears his throat a second later. 
“So it feels hard to the touch or…” 
“Not really, um… It kinda feels like a berry.” 
He laughs “What?” 
“Yeah, it's kind of soft but it has a texture to it too. And we, uh… have this gland that fills up with the liquid— Kind of like a prostate gland! Yeah, that's what that article said,” putting even more distance within Mingi and you, you sit back on the bed, just on the other side “If you try to do it before it fills up, you end up with nothing. That's what frustrated me the whole time I was learning how to do it.” 
“You didn't drink enough water?” 
“No, no— It fills up when you get really turned on. And when I was trying, I was trying way too hard and didn't, uh… I didn't do a lot of foreplay before trying, s-so.” You nod, finishing the explanation in a softer voice. 
Your cheeks feel hot and you swear your upper lip is sweating a bit. Why would you even say that? 
“Y-you didn't touch yourself enough or…?” 
“Exactly, I didn't, I just… Tried t-to stimulate it. Wasn't even wet enough so I used, uh, lube.” 
“Oh… Lube. Sure, okay.” He nods again, and then moves his hand over his face, looking away for a second “And then?” 
“I'm not really sure how to… Give me a second.”
What were you even telling him before exposing yourself like that? Before the tension in the room skyrocketed in a suffocating way? You're not sure. 
Oh, foreplay. Okay, what's next? 
“Fingering,” you say out loud when you remember and at the sudden word Mingi turns to you, eyes wide and you stumble over your words yet again “Y-you need to finger her to stimulate the g-spot, duh.” 
“Don't duh me, Y/N, I'm learning!” 
“Sorry!” 
“Okay! Now what do I do when… fingering.” 
That makes you frown. You're not really sure what to tell him next. So you look straight ahead and, unintentionally, move your ring and middle finger the way you do when you're touching yourself. 
In the silence of the room, you audibly hear Mingi’s breath hitching and that draws you back to reality. 
When you look at him, his eyes are solely focused on your fingers. 
“I don't really know how to explain this next part.” You sound apologetic, your lips tensing into a straight line. 
A bit passes. 
And then another one and another one where Mingi looks at you with a weird, foreign expression on his face. 
So you open your mouth to apologize to him, but he beats you to it. 
“Then show me.” 
You swear you never even heard him sound like that before. Or maybe you have, the tone of voice similar to when he just wakes up, low, grouchy, as if his throat might be dry. 
It just never affected you this way. 
“W-what?” you blink hard, a few times, trying to focus on whatever the hell is going on. 
“Show me how you do it… I-if you want to.” 
“Mingi!” 
“I just— Look, you don't have to,” he says right away “If you don't want to, you can forget I ever asked but I'm so… curious”, he says, getting up from your desk chair and planting his knee into the bed “And I'm also really butthurt over what happened. I want to learn but I don't really have anyone else to ask.” 
“What about, uh… Minseo! Yeah, what about her?” you offer quickly, also getting up. 
“San's ex?!” 
“I don't know any other woman that you also know, Mingi!” 
He gulps and breathes heavily, gathering his words, his thoughts, just like he always does and you remember: This is Mingi. Your Mingi. The Mingi you've known for years and care about more than anything. 
“I'm asking you because I trust you,” he says, looking you over once again “And because if I fail, you're not… going to make fun of me for it.”
There it is. 
You soften at that and he seems to relax at your reaction. His demeanor lets you know he's not just saying that because he wants to see you touch yourself, he's being honest. 
So you decide to be honest, as well. In a whisper, because your voice will tremble and give away how strongly you feel about his request. 
“I've never done it in front of anyone before.” 
“So no one has ever make you—” 
“No,” you confirm before he even gets it out and you sigh “I never ask for it and I haven't really… I've only slept with—” 
“Hangyeol.” He nods and scrunches his nose in disgust at the memory of your highschool boyfriend. They never really got along and it was a shame, because Han was a great guy, he just wasn't the one for you. 
“Mingi,” you walk over to him and he straightens up his spine “This could really… I mean, there's no getting rid of me on this lifetime, buddy,” reminding him makes him smile and you do as well, nervous, your body on high alert “But this could mess us up.” You finish in a whisper. 
“I'm not letting that happen.” He says back, eyes scanning your face before zeroing on your eyes “There's no getting rid of me either, love.” 
That nickname is going to be the death of you, you're sure. It makes you suck in air you very much need at this moment. 
Fuck it. 
“I'll… get the towels, then.” You smile a little even though your cheeks are burning and you feel a little dizzy while holding his gaze, but you don't back down. 
Before you move, though, he stops you with his hand holding your waist “I know where they are. Stay here.” 
You could literally melt right now. And you know it's a short trip to the downstairs hallway closet from your room, so you make sure you strip your duvet before things get messy. 
You should go to the bathroom, too, to clean yourself up a bit before Mingi finds out what you find out when you sit on your bed. 
You're so wet. 
And it's so fucking embarrassing, because you're not supposed to feel this way for him, for this.
Because, if anything, this is clearly just an educational experience.
And if Mingi’s excited look when he re-enters your bedroom tells you otherwise, you're choosing to ignore it for the clearly educational experience’s sake. 
“These will do?” 
You take the two mismatched towels and place them on the bed right away, not even looking at him. 
“Yep.” 
You think he nods but you're not sure, you just caught a glimpse of him moving towards your desk while you pretend to fix the towels in the bed to perfection. 
“Okay, so… You need to, uh, be comfy and shit. Drink water, you just did that a few minutes ago…” when you turn to him, he's reading his notes like he's actually about to conduct an experiment and you chuckle before shaking your head “The… The foreplay part should be next, right?” 
“Right…” you drag out, biting the inside of your cheek before he looks back at you. 
“You look really tense, Y/N,” he deadpans, looking down at his notes again “You need to relax so it can happen, right?” 
“You're about to see me touch myself and you think I can relax?” 
“Oh,” he frowns, immediately and then blinks a few times to refocus, you think “I'm not the one doing it?” 
“Uh… Yes? Later? I thought you wanted to see me first, y-you… You asked me to show you…” 
You can feel him think, the gears on his brain twisting and you think he's going to backpedal at any second because he's not really saying anything. Then you see it, the moment the image crosses his mind. 
And the next second you have him in front of you, towering over your form and then he's not.
Getting on his knees, he tentatively places a hand on your knee and parts your legs so you can make room for him to touch the end of the mattress with his chest and raise his chin just enough to make you think he's asking you to kiss him.
Oh God, you want to kiss him. 
His voice is a sweet murmur when he speaks again “Show me how to get you there, love,” he sounds like he's pleading, like he's begging you to instruct him and your breath catches when he moves his hand up your thigh “What do you like?” 
Your mouth moves before you can even think “Kiss me.” 
You don't even notice you're leaning forward until his breath fans against your chin and he tilts his head even more so that your noses touch. 
“How do you like being kissed?” 
You breathe out a laugh, a little annoyed by his constant questioning “Figure it out, Mingi.” And then the last thing you see is his smirk before his mouth presses against yours. 
It's not what you expect. If anything, you expected him to take the lead. Han used to do so, all the guys you've ever kissed did it as well. You don't really know why his patience surprises you, but it does and if your heart could race even more, it would. 
Because he waits for your guidance, waits for you to grab his shirt and jank him closer, waits for you to sigh against him and then returns the gesture when he feels your fingers move upwards and tangle in his dark hair. 
His mouth is complying to yours, his tongue is exploring it and wetting your lips in the process and you've never felt this good with anyone before. 
That's something you'll need to unpack later, but your brain disconnects when your best friend lets out a noise the second his hands touch your waist under your shirt and you forget, for a split second, that the point of this is to have you on your back pleasing yourself for him to learn. 
Because you want nothing more than to hear him make that noise again. 
The kisses grow needy and so do you when he trails a path with his wet lips from your chin to your neck and the next thing you know is that your back is against the towels you laid down before and his mouth is kissing the valley of your breasts over the cotton of your shirt. 
You look down and it takes a second for him to feel you staring before he looks up at you “Should we take this off?” 
Your voice gives away how gone you are when you reply a simple yes and your shirt is on the floor the next instant. 
Now, you're sure this is not the first time Mingi has seen you in your underwear. You both have gone swimming before and he has walked into your room a million times while you're getting ready. You're even sure he's seen you walk out from your bathroom in this specific bra before… But he's staring at you like it's the first time he's been able to trace the way your breasts spill a little bit over the fabric of this old bra you decided to wear today, like it's the first time he's allowed himself to enjoy it. 
Like it's the first time he's allowing himself to feel any sort of attraction for you. 
“Fuck,” you whisper, shallow breath hitting his cheek when he returns his mouth to your jaw “Let me… Come here.” 
You scoot up until your head rests against your pillows and he follows, resting his body weight on his side and chasing your mouth when you turn your face to him. 
You should speed this up. There's no way you're not going to feel like shit if tomorrow you wake up and remember you're letting yourself enjoy this more than you should. 
There’s no reason for you to lose your breath when his fingertips trace softly the skin under your breasts or for your legs to grant him access so quickly when they reach your belly and bypass every other part of your body before going straight in between them. 
And he notices it too. 
“I don't know why I asked you so many questions before,” he starts, turning his hand so that he back of it and his nails start caressing the inside of your thighs through your sweatpants “I know what you like. I pay attention to you whenever we're talking about sex with the guys.” 
You frown, about to remind him that you never speak directly about your own experiences but he continues his ministrations, giving your other thigh attention “I usually watch you closely in case any of it makes you uncomfortable, but I notice your reactions when they speak about something that you like.” 
Oh. Heart on your sleeve, your biggest flaw. 
“Like that one time Woo was going on and on about marking and you couldn't stop fidgeting on your seat…” his nose traces your jaw softly before his teeth take the skin underneath it and you gasp just enough to prove him right “Or that time Yunho said he hated teasing because he's an impatient little shit” he chuckles, his index finding the spot next to your mound and going down slowly until his knuckle graces the crevice where your leg and your hip connect “and you defended it until we had to stop you guys from yelling each other over it…” 
Your breath shakes and your eyes close at the sensation “Mingi…” 
“Am I wrong?” 
You shake your head no and you can all but hear him smile when he speaks again. 
“Of course I'm not.” 
You open your eyes and expect him to look at you the way he does when you're unable to defend yourself against his quips, but he's not. His eyes are following his own actions and his bottom lip is pulled by his teeth when he takes the fabric of your sweatpants and pulls it up, enough to give you some friction where you need it the most. 
“Can I take this off?” 
“Fuck, y-yes.” 
Joining your shirt on the ground, you're left only in your underwear while Mingi is fully clothed and it bothers you out of nowhere. 
“You're so wet already…” he observes and you blush, puffing some air and covering your eyes with you hand. He just laughs “That's a good thing, it means that I'm doing okay.” 
He's doing more than okay. Damn all the experience he has and the way he reads you so well. 
But his sweet tone gives you some clarity and you support your weight on your hand to fix your position on the bed. 
“Alright, let's… resume the lesson before my parents get home.” 
“They probably won't for now. The company dinners last until like… two in the morning, usually, right?” 
“That's when they decide to go out for drinks.” 
“Your mom always wants to go out for drinks.” 
“Let's not talk about my mom right now!” you beg and he laughs again, making you chuckle alongside him and you're glad he's talking all of this -the kissing, the teasing, the sweet-talk and the wet patch on your underwear- so well. 
The awkwardness from before dissipated the moment he got on his knees in front of you and all that followed was this lovely tension you're dying to keep between the two of you forever even though you shouldn't. 
“Show me, love,” he pleads and you sigh, his mouth finding your cheek for a quick second, encouraging you “And then you can show me how to make you feel good, too.” 
You stare at him for a few seconds “Damn, you're good,” he shakes his head and you smile, getting rid of your underwear and pushing the quick moment of embarrassment being bare with him in the room gives you “Remember that this is what works for me, okay?” 
He nods and then props himself up so he can see it better. 
You take a second before your fingers dive into your wet folds and, when you do, you gasp at the feeling. 
You've never been more wet just for kissing and teasing before. What the fuck. 
You do what you usually do when you're alone for a while and try to contain yourself from moaning because Mingi's eyes keep moving from your fingers to your face. Then, you remember you should be talking him through it, as well. 
“You see how I'm building it up?” you start, chest heaving and he hums as his reply “I'm not trying to make myself come but I'm kinda just… edging myself a little bit.” 
“Edging,” he repeats and then hisses when he sees your thumb pressing into your clit just how you like it, making you sigh heavily “I know all about that, that's good.” 
“Y-you do?” 
“You'll be surprised,” he smiles, proud of himself. 
“Okay,” you continue, taking a deep breath “Then you know about prepping, too,” he nods “So, a finger first…” you say, swallowing hard when your index makes its way into your cavity without much effort. 
Dragging back and forth for a minute or so, you're incapable of containing yourself any longer. Air leaves your mouth in pants and your eyes close when you drag the pad of your finger upwards, locating your g-spot with ease because you're used to it.
“And then, two fingers.” 
“Mhm.” 
“Look at the position of my hand. I read that these two fingers work the best because they're longer than the rest, although…” you look at Mingi's hand over your belly. You didn't even noticed before this that he was touching you, but he is and his thumb is tracing a pattern that both relaxes you and sends shivers down your spine “I'm sure that it won't be a problem for you, huh?” 
He sends a cocky smirk your way and you would've smacked him if you weren't so… preoccupied. 
Pressing your precious spot and then dragging back and forward, you stop the movements altogether. It felt too good, way more than good and it's a different sensation of what you're used to. 
And it's all because of him. 
You look at his side profile, his eager eyes commiting to memory what you're doing to yourself, probably taking mental notes now that his notebook is long forgotten over at your desk and… 
He deserves this. He deserves to be the one to have this, just tonight. 
You hate to leave what feels like it's about to be your best orgasm in the hands of someone who's just learning, yet alone a man.
But Mingi is not just any man. 
“Mingi,” you call and his curious eyes leave your heat a second later “your turn.” 
“Did you… Did it happen? I didn't see anythi—” 
“No,” you interrupt him, your fingers leaving you and you turn to him, your clean hand finding his face “show me what you learned.” 
His mouth parts, but you have a newfound confidence and a glint in your eyes that is new, so nothing comes out. 
“Prove that bitch wrong.” 
That seems to do it. 
His eyes go from being confused to spark with determination and want and electricity runs through you again because he seems so relieved he gets to touch you sooner than expected. 
Shyness and nervousness buried six feet under, you both smile to each other before you feel him. 
His fingers gathering your wetness, his thumb finding your clit with ease and expertise. 
“Wettest pussy I've ever touched.” You can tell he's a little lost in the heat of the moment but it's okay. So are you. 
Fuck. 
It's been way too long since someone else touched you this way, so you all but melt at the circles he draws on your clit. He paid close attention before, because he's touching you just the way you like it. 
“That feels so good…” 
“Yeah?” he asks, dark eyes finding yours before a particular stroke forces you to close them. And then he gathers enough slick to insert his ring finger inside and you can't help the moan that slips past your lips. 
You lift your hand to cover your mouth, but Mingi clicks his tongue in feign disappointment “I want to hear if I'm making you feel good, love. Don't hold back on me just because this is unconventional.” 
The worries die altogether with that. 
And now that you have free reign to stop containing yourself, you don't know how to stop. 
It's not long before his index joins his other finger but he doesn't go for it right away. He fucks you slowly, allowing you to get used to the unfamiliar stretch of his way longer, way thicker digits until they slide in and out with little effort. 
His pace picks up after what feels like ages and your hand fists his shirt for the second time tonight, nodding and moaning in encouragement. 
“Deeper,” you instruct “curl them upwards and go deeper, you'll feel it then.” 
He obeys immediately, his chest heaving and his mouth parting in delight when he finds it. The pad of his finger presses down on it tentatively and your grasp on his shirt hardens.
“Is that it?” you nod and he does it again, which earns another moan “What do I do now?” 
Before you completely get lost in the feeling, you decide to drop the step by step bullshit aside and give him the full instruction in hopes that he'll remember it all without fucking up: “What works for me is pressing… Fuck, yeah, just like that a-and then…” you take deep breath “Just a little harder… Yeah, then rub it in a circular motion while maintaining that same pressure… Fuck, Mingi!” 
He's a little too good at following instructions, because he touches you like he's been doing this forever and soon you feel the familiar swell, the usual buildup of it all and he's taking you over the age like it's nothing. 
You forget how to speak, you forget how to tell him what he needs to do next and so, when you finally explode, you take his wrist and place his two fingers over your clit. 
When you move them side by side, he lets out a fascinated giggle but knows exactly what to do. 
A second later, your release is coating your thighs and the towels underneath you and you don't register anything else because your ears are ringing. 
Did you lose consciousness for a second? It feels like you did. 
That was the best fucking orgasm you've ever felt in your entire life. 
And when you come back down, you only register the sound of your breathing and plump lips kissing your face, his fingers stopping their pace once he realizes you're done with it. 
Opening your eyes, you stare at your popcorn ceiling for a second. Then, you look at Mingi who's already staring at you with a what the fuck just happened expression. 
It makes you laugh. Softly at the beginning, post-orgasm bliss takes over but then Mingi laughs too and your whole chest swells with inexplicable pride. 
You don't think twice before kissing him again. When you realize you did it, you pull back and blink at him like he didn't make you see stars three seconds ago. 
“That was…” his eyes do the thing he usually does. You never notice it until now, but he scans your face so frequently you've grown used to it, but now… It feels different. His teeth nip his bottom lip and he shakes his head before speaking “Come here, love.” 
And then he's kissing you again, slow, intimate, beyond the stupid lesson you just taught him. 
But you don't mind it one bit. 
You sit up, getting on your knees on the bed and basically forcing him to do the same. Ignoring the gross sensation of the wet towel underneath you, you pull him further into you until his chest presses against yours, until his hands roam your body and settle on your waist, securing the embrace. 
This time, when you pull away, there's this whole unspoken new thing between you. 
“That was…?” you press, smiling a bit, pulling both you and him back to reality. 
Right now, with you half naked and his hard-on pressing on your belly, it's not the time to discuss your feelings. 
“Possibly the coolest thing I've seen,” he starts, giggling when you roll your eyes “and the hottest thing I've seen, too,” you shrug, dismissing his stare because it's making you feel hot all over your body, again “and I'm really, really grateful you said yes, love.” 
The soft tone he uses to say the last bit relaxes you and you nod, deciding it's not the time to tell him you never even came like that on your own. 
Instead, you decide to grasp this intimate moment and extend it as much as you can. You can see Mingi is not expecting it when you reach his sweatpants and let your shaky thumb trace the outline of his cock. 
Closing his eyes, he lets out a pleased sigh before he grabs you by the back of your neck and rests his forehead against yours. 
“This is supposed to be purely educational, Y/N” 
“Is that what you want it to be?” you softly ask, pulling your hand away but then his hips buck and chase after your touch, making you smile despite the emotions swelling in your chest “Let me help you… Please…” 
“Fuck, don't beg me, love.” 
“Don't make me beg, then.” 
What the fuck are you even doing? 
“Y/N, I—” he stops suddenly and you're too lost in the moment to notice why. 
But then the sound of keys and a door closing downstairs scares the fuck out of you and you push Mingi away without thinking it through. 
He lands with a thud on your bedroom floor, next to your discarded clothes. 
“What the fuck, Y/N?” he whispers-shouts, both shocked and offended, but you're getting off your bed and picking up your clothes and the soaked towels so you don't really care about his feelings right now. 
“Bathroom. Now.” 
You're so blessed for having your bedroom right next to the upstairs bathroom. And so blessed that it is your bathroom and you don't have to share it. You’ll get on your knees and thank your gods afterwards, but right now you can only think one thing.
Don't get caught. 
Lord knows you'll never hear the end of it if Mingi walks out of here with a hard-on. Your dad will kill him, your mom will cheer because she loves the idea of you and Mingi together and you'll probably pack your bags and move away if it happens. 
When you lock the door behind you and make a quick show of putting your underwear and pants back on, you hear Mingi chuckle. 
“We can always tell them we're having a sleepover, Y/N, you didn't have to karate kick me off the damn bed!” 
“Hush!” But he just keeps giggling at your very obvious flustered state.
You're about to rip him a new one when he takes two strides, backs you against the bathroom sink, and catches your lips in a quick, sweet kiss and all your worries dissolve just like that. 
“Guess they didn't go for drinks after all..” 
“You think?” cocking your head to side, the smile on your lips can't be fought at this point. 
He returns it and leans in for another kiss, longer this time and you sigh against his mouth before pulling away because you really, really shouldn't be doing this right now. 
You hear your mother calling your name and then footsteps up the stairs. A murmured she must be sleeping and a hum from your father before they pass the bathroom door. You truly only relax when you hear their door closing at the end of the hallway. 
“Okay, we're safe now.” 
“When were we ever not safe?” 
“When I was half naked on my bed, Mingi!” 
He shakes his head with a smile and takes a step back. 
You clear your throat. 
“I really did want to help you out but—” 
“Raincheck?” he asks and at you hesitation to say yes, he continues “If you want to. If you don't, it's okay. We… We'll figure it out, okay?” 
“Okay.” 
He smiles again “Good, uh…” 
Mingi seems unsure on what to do next. Feeling the same, you decide the best thing to do is to get him out of here. 
Opening the bathroom door, you carefully peek into the hallway, taking his hand in yours and beckoning him to follow you down the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible. 
“Shit, your shoes…” you whisper. 
“I don't think they noticed if they didn't barge into the bedroom to check on us like they usually do, love.” He returns, in the same tone. 
That does nothing to ease your mind, but he makes sure to put them on quickly and then grabs your shoulders, shaking you in a teasing manner. 
“Quit worrying, Y/N. I can feel you thinking.” 
Of course he does. There's no one, in this world, that knows you better than him. 
It makes your heart flutter and it shouldn't. But you're getting on your tippy toes and stealing a parting kiss before you think about it too much. 
It's irresponsible for you to do so, but Mingi grabs your waist and extends the duration of the kiss and suddenly you don't give a fuck about your parents or anyone else finding out about this… shift in your dynamic. 
“See you tomorrow?” he asks against your lips and you nod. 
“See you tomorrow.” 
And with that, he leaves. 
You lock the door and practically run to your room after. 
What the fuck have you done?
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If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated and since it’s an open ending (sort of), let me know if you want a second part! 
© jensthwa, 2024.
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hannieoftheyear · 2 months ago
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after all this time (kmg) TEASER
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When you get asked to be on the wedding party of a long-lost friend, you get the chance to reconnect with former classmate Mingyu, but not without your old feelings and struggles resurfacing.
Posted! find it here
pairing: groomsman!mingyu x bridesmaid!reader
w.c: 1,2k (teaser), full au will probably be around ~15k
genre: friends to lovers, fluff (teaser), smut, angst (full work)
warnings for the full work: it's another self-indulgent 'running away from your high school past' story from me, dealing with insecurities, a lot of not standing up for oneself, will probably add more as i keep writing :p
note: don't know when exactly i'll post this one, but i'll try to do it before september ends!! comment on this post if you want to be on the taglist ♥
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It is said that changing your usual routine helps improving your mood, taking another path home, shopping at a new place, sitting down at a different park, changing your coffee order, changing the little things to feel more energized and be more productive. You wouldn’t know, because every task you complete as fast as possible to be back home quickly. So, after days of not being to think about anything else but the upcoming wedding, it’s your only option left. 
The sky lit up with golden light, the grass and trees as green as ever, and a light breeze that prevents you from getting too hot, you walk around a park you’ve never been to before with your new ‘hot girl walk’ playlist as a soundtrack. The kids playing on the playground are the only sounds that get through your ears besides the music, maybe a bark or two as well, and the sun against your skin soothes all your worries. Damn. Going on a walk does fix your mood. 
A hand grabbing your arm softly startles you, and you’re about to punch the mystery person when you recognize his face. 
“Mingyu?” 
His eyes are focused on your fist that was ready to hit him and you lower it down, beginning to take out your airpods. 
“Sorry! You scared me!” You erupt in a nervous laughter. 
“I’m sorry! I called your name but you didn’t hear me.” 
He stands apologetic in front of you, looking down at his feet before daring to look back up at you. 
“How are you doing? We didn’t get to talk the other day.” 
“Yeah! It’s good to see you! I didn’t expect you to be there, it was a nice surprise.” 
Is it too weird to say that? Well, it’s already done. 
You notice a bike by his side, a cute pink helmet with glittery heart stickers hanging by the handle. He must’ve been biking when he saw you and took it off before calling your name. 
He gets the tiniest bit shy at your words, his ears turning a light shade of pink before disappearing quickly. 
“It’s been so long...” 
“I didn’t know if you were still friends with Olivia, I didn’t know if I was going to see you.” 
“Oh, we’re not really that close anymore.” 
You fixate on the first part of his last sentence, ignoring your body’s reaction to him implying he wanted to see you. There’s a silence as you finish your words, as it wasn’t the reply he was expecting. 
“Life, you know? We just grew apart.” 
It was you who stopped making an effort to talk to them, but even if it was still for your own good, you’re a little ashamed to admit it to Mingyu. 
“She still asked you to be her bridesmaid, that must mean something.” 
Ever the positive guy, he tries to make you feel better after the sour comment. 
“Yeah, it’s really nice of her.” 
The sun shining so bright prevents you from looking up at him, but you smile hoping he notices. 
The slow steps you’ve been taking side by side turn awkward with silence. You wanted so badly to talk to him after the other day, but now that he’s here, in front of you, your mind goes blank. 
“It’s good that you still hang out with the guys.” 
You don’t know what else to say, and the words spill out of your mouth. He doesn’t seem to notice the awkward atmosphere, his body as comfortable as ever walking by your side. 
“Yeah, even though not as often as I’d like.” A regretful smile forms across his lips, “Our schedules haven’t been lining up, I just met Olivia in person for the first time yesterday actually.” 
“What? There’s no way, you didn’t share any classes in school?” 
He shakes his head, chuckling at your surprise. 
“I think I only ever shared one class with her, but I didn’t really care much about her crowd back then.” 
“Wow, thanks for that.” 
He means all the popular guys your friends would hang out with, and you know it, but there was always something so fun in teasing him and seeing him get so pouty. 
"You know I don’t mean you.” 
His shoulder pushes your body lightly to the side and you chuckle together. It’s hard to prevent the red to rush to your cheeks, maybe he’ll mistake it for a faint sunburn. 
“That’s a cute helmet you got there.” 
Your eyes point to it as a way to distract him. 
“Oh, that?” 
He picks it up with what seems to be an embarrassed voice tone, but his actions quickly override it. He puts it on proudly and looks at you with his eyebrows raised, “my sister gave it to me when I bought the bike, gets all the ladies.” 
“I'm sure it does.” 
Attention from women he for sure gets, but probably not because of that thing. You didn’t get a proper look at him the other day, and now, standing next to him in broad daylight, you almost wish you could still live in the ignorance bliss of not knowing the exact height difference between you two. His tall, muscular, body is only enhanced by his tight blue t-shirt.  
“So, what are you doing around here?” 
His words make you realize you’ve been staring for a few seconds, and you look ahead hoping he didn’t notice. He forgets to remove the helmet, making you chuckle quietly before answering. 
“I just got off from work and thought it would be nice to take a different route home.” 
“That’s such a coincidence! I come here, like, almost every week to bike around.”  
“Wow, It really is.” 
For how long have you been avoiding this specific park for no reason? Pushing away your chance of meeting the one and only person you would’ve wanted to? 
A ping from his phone alerts the both of you, taking you out of your little bubble. 
“Sorry I-" His expression falls as he reads the new text, “I have to get going, but it was really nice seeing you!” 
"Oh, sure! I didn’t mean to hold you back.” It comes out quieter than you’d like. “Goodbye!” With a simple smile a tiny wave at him, you turn around. 
Right when he gets on his bike again, before he starts pedaling, he looks back at you, taking your first step in the opposite direction. 
“Wait!” When you turn around, he’s taking his phone out of his front pocket, “Can I get your number?” 
The both of you blush at his words, and you look up at him cautiously. 
“So we can catch up and, you know, get comfortable with each other for the wedding.” 
You had already forgot about that. The reason you even ran into him in the first place. 
“Sure!” 
Your hand trembles slightly when you take his phone and you beat yourself up for it. It’s just your number! It could mean nothing. 
“I’ll text you later so you can save mine.” 
And with a wink, he’s off to whatever he was late to. 
Great. Now you’re not only re-living your high-school anxieties, but also your high-school crushes. 
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cokou · 6 months ago
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𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚘 + 𝙻𝚊𝚠, 𝙰𝚌𝚎 × 𝙵! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
sum. How one piece men eat you <3 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tw. Cunnilingus on the couch on Luffy's, Dacryphilia on Zoro's, Sanji are their own warnings, Ace is a fucking tease, Porn w/o Plot, Somnophilia on Law's, Shit Writing, & Concerning contents. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ a/n. Do not transfer my works to any other platforms // this is my only account, will not be cross posted to any other sites or apps! Also MDNI, NSFW Content ahead <3 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ wc. 783 words, 4,149 characters.
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ʟᴜғғʏ
—Honestly, does he even have the guts to do that? Yes he does, you just need to push him through it. Not that he's embarrassed to do it, it just doesn't fill his mind. So when you suggested to try something new, he agreed.
"(Name)..Is this just fine?.." A moment of silence flicked as his head raised from your now sensitive core.
You nodded and released a shaky 'yes' as he continued eating you out on the damn couch, you wrapped your legs onto his shoulders tightly as you felt a stream of pleasure pulsing on your lower half, before you finally release a loud moan just after you came.
—And, He'd be the type to ask if he's doing just fine every 30 seconds or so, either way you find yourselves on edge every time, that's just how he is.
ᴢᴏʀᴏ
—You didn't even know how you two ended up in a position where your legs are wide open and his head is between your thighs, eating you out.
But you know something for sure, your eyes were tearing up from how good he was eating you. Just a moment ago, you had suggested that you and your boyfriend should try something new in bed, and it escalated too quick.
"Hey..Quit squirming too much and keep your legs open." He just had to remind you that you were the one who wanted this anyway, but you don't even have regrets.
—Zoro's the type to think he's dominating in bed (which do happen sometimes), but he ends up being a total sweetheart to you.
sᴀɴᴊɪ
—Do I even have to tell you that he's down to any idea you suggest as long as it's you who tell him it? Yes, and for sure he's not hesitating to make you feel good.
"(Name)! You taste just as sweet as your personality!" ...He would say that with hearts on his eyes, he isn't lying though, you do taste sweet.
He's just so obsessed with you, that was why he was the one who initiated on trying something new in a while, how could you say no to your boyfriend? You love him too much.
—Right after your session with each other, it's a guarantee that he will cook his best dishes for you, that is his way of saying that he loves you.
ʟᴀᴡ (ʜᴇ ɴᴇᴇᴅs ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ )
—Are we even surprised that this man works late at night? You usually wait for him to return before you sleep, but unusually, he's later than he used to go home. This wasn't the first time, and it's definitely not the last.
Unfortunately for you, your drowsiness took you over and you fell asleep on your shared bed.
You woke up and being immediately shot with pleasure with your legs on your boyfriends shoulders eating you out. You don't complain, you just take it.
"Oh, hey..you're awake. How'd your sleep go?" He asked you with a small smirk as he went and continued lapping his tongue against your now puffy clit. Immense pleasure shot through you as he suddenly continued.
—You woke up in the morning and you couldn't look at him with a straight face, you were either blushing or looking down at the floor. You couldn't even bring yourself to ask him when he had come home, but you just continued with your day and snuggled with him on the couch. It definitely won't be the last time you experience that.
ᴀᴄᴇ
—Yeah, he boldly asked you if you were willing to be eaten out by HIM. Sometimes his boldness makes you feel ashamed around him, and it's because he's the flirty type, it's not like you're complaining, he makes your stomach flutter every time he's around you. (reasonable i'd say)
So here you are, on your shared bed, being eaten out to your guts. He doesn't miss one spot and even bring his fingers to fuck your hole while nudging his nose on your clit. He's a fucking tease.
"You taste so good Mama's, we could've done this sooner if you were this desperate for me" Is he teasing you or just simply telling the truth? You couldn't tell, but you were enjoying his tongue lapping all over your pussy.
"Hey, it's still early to back out y'know? There's more to come." Fuck it he was such a tease and that's what makes you crazy for him. But, one things for sure, you two will be having a sleepless night.
—Ace is much more of a giver, other than a receiver. He just feels right when you're writhing and squirming while he gives you everything you need. He's just so fucking perfect.
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©cokou, all works made by me.
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007reid · 1 year ago
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sub spence returning from prison :( hasn’t been inside for way too long and he’s extra whiny and sensitive </3 and reader is usually more teasing but after being so long she’s just soft and giving to everything he desires
FERAAALLLL!!! enjoy hun🤍
dreams. spencer reid (18+)
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spencer reid x fem!reader, 3k (it got a bit out of control...)
summary: exactly what the prompt says😻 tiny bit of angst cuz it’s post prison spencer, cmon
warnings: sub spencer x dom fem!reader, masturbating (fem), unprotected sex, p in v, handjob, fingering, riding, creampie, cum play kinda. just spencer being a pathetic lil boy. tell me if i missed anything!
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spencer’s been more closed off, and you get it. you do. you had expected more excitement, more of the banter and things to go back like normal like it was before it happened but you know it’s all wishful thinking. it hurts, to accept that your spencer isn’t really your spencer anymore, it’s that damned prison’s spencer; not your sweet spencer who wears scarves and has christmas lights in his eyes all year long but the prison’s spencer who looks half dead and trudging through everyday miserable.
you know he’s trying his best too, and that part hurts the most. he tries to smile for you, tries to replace all the pieces and put it back but no piece fits. you keep reassuring yourself. baby steps. you’ll make it work. you’ll have to.
today has been your favorite day yet, and the day has barely even started. instead of being on the other side of the bed, curling up into himself and staying as far away from you as possible, you wake up to find his head buried in your neck with his arm thrown over your stomach, curls tickling your jaw.
“im afraid to touch you, y/n,” spencer had admitted, his first week back. he looked guilty and ashamed. “you’re too clean for me to touch. my hands are dirty. they’re always dirty.”
still sleepy, you reach for his hand and intertwine your fingers, tracing the skin of his wrist. at the touch, spencer immediately jolts awake and backs himself up before the sleepiness even clears from his face. your boy used to be able to sleep through turbulence on the plane and your heart breaks at the anxiety in his eyes.
his breathing is rushed as he settles down, unconsciously scooting further away from you as you try latching onto the sleeve of his shirt. "sorry, i'm sorry," you whisper over and over. "i'm sorry honey, i didn't mean to--"
"i know you didn't," spencer snaps and you backtrack. his face crumbles and he hides his head in his hands. the table turns and sorry's falls out his mouth like rain drops during a storm. "i don't mean to snap, i just got scared, in the cell i..." he trails off, frowning at himself. ever since he's got back he refuses to tell you about anything that's happened in there, stopping and cutting himself off whenever he accidentally does and you guess it's for the better. "'m sorry." he brush away the sheets and gets off the bed. "i'll be right back."
you know better than to follow as he heads to the bathroom, door closing shut and locked behind him. you stare at the dent in the mattress that's finally there after sleeping alone for three months and hops off the bed yourself, going to make coffee.
***
spencer starts relaxing as the day goes on, not by much but you notice it. he probably feels bad for what happened in the morning and just wants to make it up to you by being what you want him to be; soft and affectionate like he used to and finally letting himself to touch you, linger his fingers over your arm as he passes you while you make breakfast and sitting close enough to where you both touch.
it's night, and you're in a simple tank, ready for bed. spencer's head is in your lap and the tv plays a random show but your attention is on smoothing out the spencer's curls, tugging and pulling until you get a purring spencer reid in your lap, eyes closed and humming contently to himself.
"you tired yet?" you ask, eyes on the tv. spencer nuzzles his head closer to your stomach.
"mhm. no."
"kay," you dip your head down, sparing a kiss on the pouting boy's lips, aiming for a light, sweet peck because spencer's not really ready for anything else otherwise but you're surprised when he starts to deepen it, teeth nagging at your bottom lip, asking. out of breath, you pull back and he sits up from your lap, crashing into you again and he's insistent, needy as little pants fall from his lips as you press him against the couch, climbing on top of him.
"missed you so much," spencer breathe, hands closing around your hips and tugging you closer. legs positioned outwards from either side of his torso, he moans into your mouth when the heat of your clothed pussy rub gently against his hardening cock and you miss this almost as much as you miss him, spending all three months either too depressed to do anything or cumming from your fingers and then hugging his pillow later.
you run your thumb over the spit on his lip, crooning. "look so pretty," you whisper, rutting against his hips. spencer whines, soft and desperate, a hand hesitantly coming up to grope at your breast, sandwiching your hardening nipple between his fingers. "been so long, spence, you forgot how to touch me?" you tease at the unsureness and awkwardness in the way he moves to touch you. spencer shakes his head frantically.
"dreamt about you," he says eagerly, pressing his lips on the side of your mouth and then all over your face. "every night. missed you so so bad. fuck, y/n," he gasps as you start grinding on him, impatient.
you kiss him hard, pussy clenching and unclenching around nothing as you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, just having him like this, pliant and here and not away. "what," you say, between kisses, each one messier and rushed than the last. "what did you dream about?" spencer whines. "hm?"
he falters, face getting visibly red under the dim lighting. he mumbles something under his breath, and you sneak a hand between your pressed bodies, palming him through his navy owl pajamas. "speak up, honey," you say, and spencer squirms, bucking his hips forward into your palm.
"i dreamed a lot of dreams," he says in a rush, breathing heavily, cheeks rosy. it's not the answer you're looking for. you tut.
"you know that's not what i asked, spence," you say, hand on his jaw as you push his face up to look at you. his eyes are blown wide, pupils dilated and lips red and parted, looking the spitting image of what you've been fingerfucking yourself to for months.
he whimpers, words stuck to his throat, embarrassed. you press your hand harder against his dick and his head knocks into your shoulder, burying his face in your neck, too humiliated to look at you in the eyes. "i dreamed you touched yourself and rode me and said i couldn't touch and couldn't cum but i did anyway 'cause i'm fucking pathetic," he confesses against your skin. "woke up and couldn't even touch myself cause of my cellmates and i--" your hands slip under his shirt and spencer does a full body shiver, your fingers hot against his skin.
"does that mean you haven't cum since you've been in there baby?" spencer ignores you, too distracted as you sway your hips against his rock hard cock. "spencer,"
he whines, and that's enough of an answer for you. "my poor baby," you coo, digging your fingers into his hair. "so wind up."
"need you," he whimpers, hands frantically clawing at your side, trying to touch as much of you as possible. "needa be in you, please. please,"
"in bed baby," you kiss him sweetly, wrapping your legs around his waist as he stands, supporting you with only one arm. you leave hickies on his neck while you wait for him to reach the bedroom, running your tongue over his skin to soothe them.
he lays you on the bed gently, tall frame towering over you as he sets you down but spencer still cowers under you despite it all. you remove your shirt and shorts as he settles down and when you turn around, he's staring, unabashedly, cock making an obvious dent in his thin pajamas, and the opportunity basically presented itself.
you start to slowly spread your legs, propping yourself up with your elbows and trailing a hand between your legs to rest at your lace panties. a devilish smirk on your face as spencer’s adam’s apple bobs visibly, brown eyes hungry and waiting as you press slight pressure on your clothed clit, knocking your head back.
spencer scrambles up to a sitting position, anxiously looking at you. “y/n,” he says, voice unusually high, flustered. “don’t—“ his voice breaks off as you start moving your fingers in circle-eights, sighing to yourself. “don’t—come here.”
you shoot him a warning look when he starts coming closer. spencer freezes. “thought this was what you wanted, pretty boy,” you purr. there is already a patch of wetness in your panties, and you linger your fingers at the waistband.
“not now,” spencer whines, insistent. “i’m so hard, wanna be in you so bad, please,” and despite how much prison had hardened him up, turned him into an entirely different person, spencer is still luckily the same in bed; easy to wind up and begs to get what he wants. too often it doesn’t work in his favor. tonight it might.
“you know what to do, baby boy,” you tell him, nudging your underwear off and tossing it somewhere in the room. spencer backs off, curling up into himself as his eyes remain pasted on you, watching. staring. you’re soaked, rubbing slowly at your clit, the air cool against your pussy. you keep an eye open, watching spencer for his ticks and reactions and it turns you on even more, seeing how desperate and needy he is, trying to rut against the sheets as you dip a finger inside yourself.
“none of that spence,” you tut. “you know that’s not the rules.”
he sighs frustratedly, stopping in his tracks, ever the good and obedient boy for you. you continue to play with yourself, slowly working up to two fingers and pressing down on your clit with your thumb, hearing spencer’s indiscreet panting from the other side of the bed as he watches, puppy eyes in full effect as he silently begs to have you closer. you whine as you curl your fingers inside yourself, and spencer’s just about had it.
“y/n,” he pleas, sounding like he’s about to cry. “i—it’s hurts, i wanna…”
you take pity on him. you’re all stripped naked and he’s still fully clothed, down to the halloween themed socks. “what do you want honey?”
“i—“ spencer gasps, squirming on the sheets. “uuhhgg…gonna cum i—“
“you gonna cum just from watching me touch myself?” you ask, amused. fair enough, he hasn’t cum in three months and you’re surprised he’s not permanently hard at this point. “gonna cum in your pants like a teenager spence? how pathetic are you?”
“y/n!” his voice trembles and he sounds so sweet, so needy for you and you give in. it’s hard not to, and you keep up at the act but at the end of the day spencer always gets what he wants. the begging strategy does do him some good.
you crawl over to him, placing yourself on his lap and he’s extremely hard beneath you, cock curving up from the thinness of his pajamas, getting a real good look at him. his eyes are rimmed red and tears are threatening to spill out and you lift his shirt over his head. “god youre so fucking beautiful,” you throw his shirt off the bed, tilting his head up to look at you. spencer groans at your words, hands immediately going to touch you, roaming your bare skin and nails digging into your waist.
“missed you,” he whimpers, lips at your neck as you get his bottoms off. “want this everyday, think of you everyday, fuck—“
“so hard for me honey,” you coo, stroking him through his underwear and then getting that off too. his cock, finally naked presses against his stomach, is a raging red, beads of precum leaking at the tip. “prettiest boy,” you whisper in his ear, taking his cock in your hand, smearing the precum over his cock as soft whimpers falls out of his mouth, inching closer to your touch.
“y/n,” he says, and it seems like it’s the only thing he can say. “y/n, y/n—“ you start to grind on him, sliding your pussy against his cock and spencer turns delirious, squeezing at your hips and wanton sounds coming out of his mouth, begging and cursing for nothing at all. the head of his cock rubs against the entrance of your pussy and the both of you moan, hips collapsing into each other.
his fingers finds their way to your entrance and begins prodding, and you whine as his middle finger slides in, thick and just right and it’s the feeling you’ve been trying to replicate but can’t get. “you’re so tight yn, fuck,”
“add another finger, spence,” you demand. spencer does, and the stretch burns only temporarily and you whine, wrapping your arms around his neck and reeling yourself in so you can be as close to him as possible. lifting your hips, you start to fuck yourself on his fingers, impatient and horny and spencer is looking at you with fucking stars in his eyes, awed.
you never get too emotional or whiny during sex, that’s mostly all spencer but you can’t help bury your face in the dip of his shoulder blades and muffle your high moans against his skin, just glad that your spencer is back and this isn’t a cruel dream. spencer pulls his fingers out and you let out a displeased sigh. reaching down, you take spencer’s cock in your hands, smeared all over the tip with his precum and your wetness and spencer’s breath hitches in this throat, nearly jumping away at your touch.
you slowly guide his dick to your entrance, lifting your hips and all spencer does is watch, getting special treatment as you do all the work, slapping his dick against your pussy, eliciting a filthy sound from the both of you before rubbing the head of his cock against your open pussy. before he’s even in, spencer is already making these ridiculous noises, begging and panting and whimpering, hair falling into his eyes and sweat beading on his nose.
you quickly swoop down in a brave motion, bottoming out and it hurts, only temporarily before the stretch eases into pleasure and you miss it, miss him, so damn much and spencer’s already in another fucking world, nails digging at your hips.
“fuck, fuck, y/n—“ he whimpers weakly, chanting your name like a mantra as you start to move your hips, riding yourself on his cock. you know he can’t last any longer and you’re surprised he’s even managed to last this long so far, pulling out until your pussy is clenching at the tip of his cock and slamming yourself into his hips, and everytime time you do this spencer makes the prettiest noises, coughing up the moans struggling to come out of his mouth and tear tracks staining his cheeks, begging to cum.
“please, please yn don’t do that,” you do it again. “i…i—pull off, i’m gonna cum i’m not gonna last!” he cries, cock pulsing inside you and you know he’s not lying. you can read spencer’s body in the dark or light like it’s your own and you can feel your orgasm steadfastly approaching too, the heat building gradually at the pit of your stomach.
you start going faster, dropping yourself down to his cock and bottoming out at every thrust, his cock finding the tip of your spot every time. “yn,” spencer repeats. “gonna cum, stop please i—hnnnggg—“
“cum in me, sweet boy,” you press a kiss on his jaw, locking your fingers on his curls to pull his head back by his hair, making him look at you in the eye. spencer arguably looks the prettiest when he cums, and you never miss the show.
“i…what?” debaunched and fucked-dumb, it takes a second for spencer to understand what you mean. “you sure?”
“shut the hell up spence,” you groan, bringing him closer, chests flat against each other. you keep going at your thrusts, slipping a hand to rub at your soaked, swollen clit as spencer’s moans get higher and higher until his entire body is trembling, his eyes squeezed shut. “fucking—cum in me, honey.”
you know the exact moment when he cums because you did too, his face scrunching up in what almost looks like pain as you start to feel something warm bleed inside you and it feels like fucking heaven. your walls spasm around his cock, milking him as you orgasm, squeezing your intertwined fingers for dear life.
when you’ve both gained back your breaths, spencer lightly stroking the skin of your stomach where he can press and feel himself beneath of and you pressing more hickies on his chest and neck, you speak. “was that as good as your dream?”
your voice comes out more distorted than you thought, raspy and your throat is slightly sore. spencer laughs quietly.
“a hundred times better,” he’s quick to respond, earnest. “no brainer.” when you pull off of him and collapses by his side, he leaks out of you, wetting and trailing down your inner thighs.
spencer slides a hand there and slowly starts to finger his cum back into you lazily and you open up your legs for him, loose and wet from the orgasm. “you’re so full of me,” he says, sounding pleased with himself. his fingers scissors you open wider, patiently fucking you with them. you hold his other hand as spencer kisses you. “mine. all mine.” he presses down on your clit and you shake, your second orgasm hitting you like a soft wave. he keeps the pressure there despite you trying to close your legs, shivering all over, nipples hard and stomach rising. “all mine.”
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lokideservesahug · 2 months ago
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An Unexpected Crossover
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Pairing:Carlos Alcaraz x F1 pilot!Reader
Notes: I've had this in my mind since Wimbledon but only ever ½ created this. Shout out to @yungbludz for fully bringing me into my Alcaraz era and for indirectly encouraging me to post this (il your work) + (an anon comes out of hiding ig). I have ideas for other parts but Idk if I should continue so feedback is very welcome. This characterisation is probably awful but I've never written for Carlos before. I'm very open to advice though.
Summary: Y/N Y/L/N, the only rookie in Formula 1's 2024 season. But many people get excited at her attending Wimbledon especially after some old interviews resurface...
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You weren't ashamed of your boyfriend, of course not. But mornings like these made the constant speculation, talks and borderline harassment about your relationship worth it.
Moments where you woke up earlier and could watch the first breaking of the morning sun fall out between the gaps in your curtains and onto Carlos' face. You watch as the yellow light frames your boyfriend's face, making him look even more pretty than usual.
In this moment, he looked like the perfect image of sleep. And goodness did he deserve it, especially after his performance, that could only be described as truly outstanding yesterday.
You'd heard what people said about yesterday. Djokovic gave one of his greatest performances ever and Carlos still managed to beat him. Even the thought strikes a chord of pride within you and brings a grin to your face.
A sudden groan however wakes you from your thoughts. "Querida?" You hum in response, looking back down to your boyfriend. He lifts his head up slowly and gives you a familiar look (one that you've learnt that at times like these, means he's questioning why you aren't still glued to his side). You hold in the urge to laugh slightly his pouty face and half asleep fueled strop but that only makes his pout get somehow bigger. "Big baby." You lie down next to Carlos, resting your head on his shoulder and weaving your hand under his shirt. Carlos let's out a slight shiver at the lack of warmth in your hands but also simultaneously hums in content. "Eso está mejor" (That's better)
You roll your eyes. "Then shush you big baby." Already anticipating his next move, you whip out your other arm to cage Carlos' hand to the bed. "Don't even think about pretending to be offended. Just go back to sleep." And that order he happily complies with; well after wriggling his arm from out of your grip only to lay it on your back and rub mindless shapes as he mutters "mujer mandona" (Bossy woman). And before you have the time to respond, (probably about the fact that Carlos gets riled up at stuff like that) you feel the familiar shallow breathing of your boyfriend fan across your hair.
You had to do things at some point today. But you suppose you could sleep in, especially for the Wimbledon Champion.
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Jane had given you some elaborate story for if anyone truly cared enough to ask about your relationship, well at least for your standards. You're pretty sure it went something along the lines of:
1. You and your boyfriend met at the start of last year and began dating soon after (but kept it on the downlow due to your job). However, you were so enamoured with him that despite your PR training, you let the fact that you weren't single slip once or twice.
2. He broke up with you a few months ago, leaving you heartbroken but still being mature and understanding.
3. (Possibly the truest element of the whole story) Carlos kissed you when he won Wimbledon for the second time, which he did.
4. Your ex boyfriend saw, came to a realisation, called you up... you know the rest.
It was very PR polished and you knew it, Jane knew it, but it was what you needed. Some story just yo cover your tracks and make people focus on your racing, not your love live. But it almost made you laugh at what lengths people had to go to. When infact the real story was only:
1. You and Carlos started dating at the start of last year...
That's it. No break up, no heartfelt reunion after you kissed another man. However, you and your boyfriend had a good laugh over the whole story and even led to an interesting conversation a few days ago.
☆-☆-☆-☆-☆
You'd just come home after racing in the simulator all afternoon. You look down at your phone and sigh at the sight of Jane wishing you a nice day, finally ending the conversation. You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you unlock the front door and step inside. You take your shoes off and walk to the living room to try and find Carlos.
And exactly as expected, he's sat on the sofa, scrolling on his phone. He looks up as you enter the room. "Buenas tardes cariño. ¿Cómo estuvo?" (Good afternoon darling, how was it). You sigh and drop back onto the sofa, leaving back on Carlos as he adjusts to put an arm around you. "Meh. Same as usual. Jane finally came up with a cover story..." Carlos hums in intrigue next to you as you explain the ins and outs of what might as well be a well constructed pyramid scheme at this point.
By the time you've finished, you feel well and truly worn out but you seek comfort in the feeling of Carlos absentmindedly rubbing shapes onto your shoulder. "I don't see what the big deal is. I mean I told Juanki ages ago." You feel your whole body tense up as you turn to Carlos... "You did what?" You're only met with Carlos' sheepish, confused face. And oh gosh, you feel like you need to lie down.
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Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!
As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!
Idk who to tag so I'll tag my usual people but please let me know ow if you don't want yo be tagged in work like this:
Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @thatgirlmj
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little-miss-dilf-lover · 11 months ago
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nsfw idea😙 tangerine sees reader in the bath using the shower head……
dude ive had this idea and wanted to write this for so long !! thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌 as im about to post this, JUST saw there’s a tangerine in front of the candle on the left ??!? how fitting
HELPING HAND
tangerine x female reader
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word count. 819
warnings. 18+ only!! shower head as stimulation, tan helps bc he’s so bf, light choking (just throat holding) he can’t help himself and finishes in his boxers🫠 mdni
You were in the bath, one leg hooked over the top of the tub, the other bent at the knee, hand in between gripping onto the shower head - directing the water at that sensitive, little, sweet spot.
You've been at it for a little while now, growing more and more frustrated at the constant growing and disappearance of your orgasm. Your forearm was beginning to ache, and your knee started to seize up - like everything in your body was telling you to stop, but you were finally starting to feel something - it was starting to feel good again. That was all until your hand moved so so slightly, knocking the water flow away from your needy clit. 
There's a faint knock at the bathroom door, Tangerine on the other side growing concerned at your unusually long shower.
"Darlin'? Ya'right?"
You clear your throat, propping yourself up slightly. "Yeah," you reply, though it doesn't sound as you planned - it comes out more whiney, frustrated.
"Don't sound it," he dismisses, tapping at the handle. "Can I come in? Need'ta get my deodorant."
You hesitate, looking down at yourself - laying in an empty bath, shower head hitting between your thighs. It wasn't hard to figure out what you were doing. 
"Nothin' I ain't seen before," he says, his words trailing to a halt when he sees the lewd image of you in front of him. "Fuck."
Immediately, you grow embarrassed - almost ashamed at the vulnerable and compromising he caught you in. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. Instead, you just duck lower into the tub, like you were hiding - trying to shield yourself from his intense gaze.
He makes his way closer, stilling once your whole frame is in view again.
"Don't stop on my account," he murmurs, his voice losing its usual tone of conviction - growing hoarse at the sight of you. "Keep goin', love."
You meet his eye line, watching how quickly they flicker over you, like they were overwhelmed by the view - raking over your wet, quivering body. You hold his gaze as he lowers to the floor, kneeling beside you in the tub. 
He extends an arm towards you, hand reaching for your face. He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, swiping over the flesh - focusing on you with half-lidded eyes. "Want me to help?"
You eagerly nod your head, immediately agreeing. You were far too frustrated to turn down his offer, so you submit, passing him the showerhead. 
He situates himself on the side of the tub facing you, one hand lightly holding the base of your throat, the other between your thighs, angling the water at your clit.
You instantly cry out at the contact, already feeling more than you have for the last thirty minutes. It felt so much better with Tan's help, his grounding palm on your damp skin, and his other continuing to hit the water at that little, swollen nub ever so perfectly. 
Your eyes screwed shut, but he remained focused on you - eyes drifting to your heaving chest, over to your hand clutching at the side of the tub, back down to your thighs where they started to shudder; everything was just so erotic, unlike anything he had ever seen before. 
"It's right there, right there— please don't move. I feel it again. There— god," you mindlessly mutter, cutting yourself off with a staggered breath.
"I won't, darlin'," he whispers, sharply inhaling when he feels the impossible strain in his boxers - his cock begging to be touched. "I won't."
You focus on the airy feeling in your lower tummy, concentrating on that fuzzy sensation spread further as you approach your ever-lasting buildup. 
You cry out, harshly moaning as you reach your intense high - chest heaving, stomach jittering, thighs clamping together as you attempt to rid his hand. 
"Jus'a bit more," he murmurs. "That's it."
You're a jolting, spasming mess, mewling out against the almost overstimulating feeling, swatting his hand away. "No more, no more," you breathe out, slumping into the tub in a state of near-exhaustion. "I— fuck."
He softly groans, feeling the head of his cock twitch against the fabric, twinging as he coats the inside of his boxers in a layer of warm cum. 
Only this time, it was you watching him - gawking at the way he came untouched, purely by the sight of you.
"Did—" you start, eyes wide as you peer up at him. "That was the hottest thing I have ever seen."
He exhales, cheeks faintly flush as he stands. "Couldn't help it," he breathes, raking through his curls. He picks up his deodorant from the side and turns to face you, a soft smile spreading as he reaches for the door handle. "You're the only girl that's made me jizz my pants like that."
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no taglist as don't want to spam
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zarnzarn · 1 month ago
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Epic post canon fluff for the soul!
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"Athena, help, help!" Odysseus hisses, darting behind her. Athena tenses up, grabbing her spear. "Your wife is after me!"
"She is your wife," Athena rolls her eyes, relaxing and letting the weapon dissolve. Odysseus presses himself between her stature and the wall, arranging her robes around him to make it seem she was sitting on the settee alone.
"As are you," Odysseus says pointedly. The delusion never fails to make an odd rush of emotion go through her, something both bashful and giddy and embarrassed to be feeling both. "And speak softer, she's going to hear you."
"What did you do anyway?" Athena sighs, leaning back against him and stifling a grin as he squawks at the heavy weight of her. "Penelope is a calm, rational woman- she's not one usually to send you running like this."
"What are you talking about?" Odysseus says, outrage muffled behind her. "Calm and rational- do you know she once made me fistfight a merchant who she thought was giving us low quality carpets for our wedding? Carpets, Athena!"
"I don't know how you two keep this kingdom running," Athena sighs, shaking her head as she picks her weaving back up. Two arms sneak around her waist, and she shifts downwards with a soft smile no one can see, letting him hug her tight as if he can squeeze his affection into her body. She does not know how it continues to feel like this, even ten years later, like every day is filled with nothing but satisfaction and content and happiness. "What-"
"Athena!" Telemachus crashes into the door as he loses grip on the marble flooring with his old sandals that really need to be burnt. He shakes his head and turns to run at her, throwing himself at her side like intends to crawl behind as well, like he is not a lad of twenty-six summers now. "Mom is- oh, hi, dad!"
"Hey, Tele," Odysseus says warmly, and Athena begs for patience as they both try to adjust themselves behind her. "Did she see you?"
"No! But-"
"What," Athena slams her hands down on the loom. "-did you two even do? And why am I collateral in your foolishness?"
"Because we're your favourites," Telemachus says shamelessly. She regrets the day she and Penelope decided to leave the sweet child alone with his insufferable brat of a father for that holiday they took together around the island. He was never quite the same ever again. "And shhh, she's gonna hear you!"
"Let her," Athena says mutinously. "And you're wrong- Diomedes is my favourite. The calmest, quietest one of all of my students."
"Then stop sending him away to guide youngsters on magical quests!" Penelope snaps as she storms in. Athena is ashamed to admit she quails back at the furious entrance with wide eyes. "Maybe then I'd get someone else in this house who isn't an absolute fool!"
"Penelope-" She says, as if she's done something wrong and she is also not an ancient goddess of war who fought the Titans themselves.
"Athena," Penelope says dangerously. "Where are those rascals?"
Said rascals are frozen still like deer behind her, so much so she barely remembers she's there. "What... rascals?"
Penelope wears a look of incredulity at the terrible attempt at a lie, something that Athena also shares in vague disbelief at her own self, before suddenly changing her tune, looking for all the world a weary, middle-aged, fond woman.
"My darling Athene," she coos, sweet as honey. "Beloved husband mine. Where are those annoying brats, please tell me?"
Athena's heart skips a beat and her fingers stutter on her shuttle.
This nonsense had all started some accursed months ago when she had woken up one morning beside Penelope, Odysseus already gone ahead for the morning to bathe, Athena pressed into the warmth he'd left behind after a particularly bad migraine the previous night.
"I am- not your husband," she manages, trying not to blush at the words. "I do not why you insist on calling me so."
Penelope pouts.
Then Penelope had stretched and thrown an arm and leg over her, and suddenly she was wide awake as the other nuzzled into her neck and murmured, "Good morning, husband."
Athena had burned for that one brief moment, then abruptly teleported out of there to Odysseus in their bathhouse, wading into the water with all her clothes on, babbling apologies and awkward explanations to the bewildered man, while fighting the sudden mortifying realisation of Why have I been sleeping in their marital bed? followed shortly by WHY HAVE THEY BEEN LETTING ME?
And after Odysseus had gotten the whole story out of her- she had not been hysterical, fuck off, Odysseus- he had almost laughed himself sick with mirth. Then after she'd bellowed at him to take it seriously, he'd chuckled and swam closer to her.
Athena had not slipped into the water in shock.
"I won't lie, I do like the sound of it, though," Odysseus had purred. Swam closer and placed his hands on her hips, scalding hot and real. "Penelope would look good with two husbands, don't you think? What say, Pallas Athena, will you be my wife too?"
It had hit her like a sword to the gut, the realisation that he was teasingly seducing her, and it hit like a second sword to the face that even if he didn't really mean it, she wouldn't mind, which was a horrifying development to suddenly be aware of, and the result of that was-
"CEASE!" She had shouted and splashed the entire floor in her mad scramble to get away from him, Odysseus cackling behind her. She had promptly gotten as far away from the entire mad island of Ithaka as she could, and then picked a fight with poor Eros, who was probably the only innocent party in this whole situation.
But after that, they had not stopped, the bastards that they were- went about calling her that all the time, introduced her to people with the title they felt like inflicting on her that day, held her close with the same casual possession they used with each other.
"Are you worried about being the second?" Penelope says brazenly, bangles jingling as she puts her hands on her hips. "Don't worry, love, once I get my hands on Odysseus, you will be my one and only, and we can replace that donkey I call a son as well. Now, I heard you talking to them, where are they?"
"Aw, how come I don't get the title of donkey?" Odysseus says as he peeks out from behind her, and Penelope's face becomes full of rage.
"YOU-!" She hitches up her skirts and chases her laughing husband around the room, shouting insults and curses.
Athena sits there silently, still trying to recover from what Penelope had said so casually to her.
Maybe- maybe it wasn't a joke after all? Were they actually serious-
"You know they are not joking, right?" Telemachus says, sudden sharp knowing in his voice. She looks over at him, and he smiles softly, lifting himself to his knees as he makes his way past her open hair to press a fond kiss to her cheekbone. "They really love you, ma."
Athena makes a truly undignified gurgling noise. Then narrows her eyes. "Manipulation."
"It can be manipulation and truth!" Telemachus says as he reaches out and straightens out the threads of her look that had gotten tangled in all the mess. "I am the product of your intellectual labour, am I not?"
"Are you?" Athena grumbles darkly, and he laughs high and sharp. He has dozens of suitors of his own now, children of heroes and gods alike- and he has every last one wrapped around his finger as easy as breathing, toying with them all so gently they can't do anything but enjoy it as he lazily chooses between them, all father's charm and mother's beauty and smile as sharp as any wolf's.
Athena is so incredibly proud of him.
"Yes," He says, then slumps against her as they watch Penelope pull off her sandals to throw at Odysseus. She misses, and a vase goes crashing to the floor instead as Odysseus slips past her once more. "Mom really is in love with you, though. I can tell."
"I-"
"She knows that too. But maybe come for dinner more often, that's enough to make her day." Athena turns to look at him, raises an eyebrow. Telemachus smiles sunnily. "And there isn't a mortal or Olympian alive who knows what the hell kind of insane dynamic you have going on with dad, so I'm not going to bother asking."
"You used to be such a sweet child," Athena says despairingly. "Why were you tainted so."
Telemachus guffaws.
Another vase crashes to the floor and Athena sighs.
"My most beloved," She calls out, words fitting awkwardly in her mouth. Still, it's worth it to see them both freeze and whip around to stare at her with wide eyes and red cheeks, strangulation and excuses forgotten. She snorts, Telemachus giggles excitedly. "Please. May we forget these petty squabbles and go to lunch? I find myself hungry today."
"Yes!" The two of them practically teleport to her side, looking up at her with adoring, worshipful expressions. Telemachus gestures something encouraging in the side of her vision, and goes on ahead to get the cook ready, successfully escaping his mother's ire.
Athena smiles. Builds up her courage and leans down once on either side to peck them both on the lips and pushes down a smug smile at their stunned expressions as she straightens back up, relishing in the satisfaction of getting one over them after weeks of teasing.
"Well?" She says as she reaches the door, turning back to see them clutching at each other and staring at her, cheeks scarlet. Such beautiful idiots they are, the both of them. She huffs in amusement. "I'll let whoever reaches first call me their wife in front of Hermes tomorrow."
Odysseus and Penelope both shout in dismay and start tussling with each other to reach the door first and Athena laughs as she shifts into an owl and flies overhead, towards yet another day with her favourite people.
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findafight · 2 years ago
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Wait. Wait. Kinda part 2 to this post. For the angst of it all. Cw: implied and assumed homophobia
Because sure, after that dinner Joyce relents in not being, y'know, openly confused or frustrated with Steve being around. El obviously adores him and Jim is always glad when he comes around. Joyce can put up with Steve for them. But she's a stubborn woman, and somewhere in her mind, Steve is a Bad Egg. So she's still not 100% on board.
All this rears its head one night after a lot of their world saving group has had a movie night and ended up in a puddle on the floor. Steve is squished between Robin and Eddie, snuggled up all cozy. Joyce sees this when she quietly pads out of her bedroom to just. Check on the kids.
Eddie and Steve are sat up, Robin's face pressed against his hip. They're whispering something, heads leaned close. And they lean in further, silhouetted by the moonlight filtering in, and kiss. It's pretty chaste, though not a peck.
Joyce's blood boils. Steve has a girlfriend, he should not be going around kissing his friends like that, stringing them all along. She feels strangely vindicated, that her assumptions about Steve were right, that he wasn't actually a good guy or had changed at all. She almost yells at him then and there, but holds off. No need to wake everyone up. She can lecture him in the morning.
Once everyone is fed and lounging in the late morning, she pulls Steve out onto the porch.
"I saw you kiss Eddie last night" she says, without preamble. "And I cannot believe you would think behaviour like that is acceptable in my house."
Steve blinks, clenches his jaw. "Jo--Mrs Byers. I--"
"I don't want any of your excuses! It's despicable what you're doing, and I won't have it. For whatever reason, those kids look up to you. What kind of example are you setting for them? For El?" Steve's eyes widen, and if Joyce hadn't been so caught up with her anger she probably would have seen that instead of being ashamed or embarrassed, Steve is scared. "She looks up to you so much, though I can't imagine why. You need to clean yourself up, Steve. For real this time. You can't go around doing whatever you want. It's disgusting and disrespectful. Did you even consider the people you'd hurt? How doing shit like that would affect the lives of people who care about you? They deserve better than that." She shakes her head. Arms crossed. Steve is tense in front of her, but he doesn't say anything. To her, that's as good as confession. "Everyone talks about how you've worked hard to improve yourself, become a better person. But after last night? I just don't believe it. No one who's really changed, really a good person, would do what you did." She sighs. "You should probably leave now."
Steve nods stiffly. "Right. I'll. Uh, I leave. Can you...please, don't tell anyone, ma'am. I'll Grab my bag and I'll get outta your hair, but don't tell. I'm so sorry. Please." She purses her lips. His girlfriend deserves to know, but Joyce has no clue who that is (it might be the Robin girl attached to his hip, but she has no way of knowing). She nods once. Steve's shoulders slump.
Stepping back into the house, Steve quickly and jerkily snags his backpack from the corner it was shoved into before leaning over to whisper something in Robin's ear. The girl nods, looking worried.
He doesn't look at Eddie.
For a while, her house is Steve-free. Joyce breathes easy, hoping their talk was a wake-up call for steve. He is painfully polite when they bump into each other, Robin usually by his side with a strained customer service smile. Small talk is non-existent.
But then Will starts getting quieter. Maybe avoiding her. Certainly does his best to be small and doesn't look in her eyes. She has no idea what's going on, and she's worried.
What if the Upside Down came back? What if there's something wrong with her boy? What if everything they've fought for and sacrificed didn't mean anything and it's never actually over?
She tries to talk to him, but he shrugs her off, says he's fine and not to worry about it. Assures her it is definitely not the Upside Down.
Finally, after two weeks of Will looking absolutely miserable when he talks to her, she gets Jonathan to try. Tension around the house is high, Steve is barely around and always skitters away when he sees her, and in combination with will, it's out everyone on edge.
She doesn't mean to eavesdrop. But she doesn't not mean to either. It's just that they're on the porch, and she was in the kitchen and heard something, and when she went to see, she heard them talking.
"it's not--i want to tell you but it's not my secret to tell."
Jonathan sighs. "Will. I can't help if I don't know what's wrong. Please. Talk to me. I'll love you no matter what, you know that."
Will heaves a breath. "I had a talk with Steve --" and oh, the rage in Joyce's chest when she hears that. What did he say to her boy?? "And...uhg. fuck. Okay, you have to swear, swear! You're not going to tell anyone what I'm going to tell you. If you figure it out, because I don't. It's not mine to tell."
"okay. I swear. I won't go spilling Steve's secrets."
"you have to mean it, Jonathan. It's dangerous!"
There's ruffling fabric. Jonathan's voice is softer. "I promise."
"Steve said he was telling me because he thought we might be...similar. In some ways. And he talked about who he's dating. And that Hopper and El and Robin and Eddie know. And that they're all safe. Y'know? Like you are."
"okay..."
"and I said you were, and he said that was really good, and then emphasized that if I ever wanted like, and actual grown up to talk to, not just another teenager, Hopper was safe. But. The way he said it made it seem like...I don't know, but something was off? And I asked him." There's a pause. "I asked him if Mom knew. And he said yes. But he hadn't... Before that, he hadn't said she was safe. Jonathan..."
Something...wasn't adding up. Joyce was trying to puzzle what she wouldn't be safe to talk to about. She'd been in the tunnels and Upside Down and through it all. Her children, and by extension the children that had helped save them, were always safe in her house. To come to her if they felt unsafe. Why Steve would tell her own son she wasn't --
Will continued. "Steve said that it'd probably be different because I'm her kid, y'know? She--she did all this stuff to get me back and to keep me safe and loves me. So she could. So she'd maybe change her mind. For me."
"Will..." Jonathan's voice sounds pained.
"but what if she's not? What if that's where it ends? Shell save me from a demogorgon but not love me for this. Steve's saved my friends half a dozen times, Jonathan! He got--he got tortured" that is not something Joyce knew. When the hell did that happen? "with Robin to protect Dustin and Erica, Billy beat him half to death when he stepped in to protect Lucas and Max! He's good! I'm not as close to him as the others but he still told me. He trusted me enough with a secret that I can't even say outloud about myself yet! And Mom still-" will hiccups, and Joyce wishes she knew what he was talking about. Wishes he was saying these things to her, so she could comfort him.
Heaving a breath, Will is quieter. "Steve's the reason no one's died. He's El's first brother. And she still called him disgusting for-- for kissing someone he loves."
Ice fills Joyce's veins, a heavy pit balls in her stomach. Because that's not--she didn't--it wasn't like that.
But Steve had begged her not to tell anyone. Had stood still and not tried to justify anything and called her ma'am when he asked her not to tell. Held himself still when she was around and bolted at the first possible opportunity, leaving disappointed people in his wake. Oh, shit. Oh, she's fucked up so badly. Hurt some kid because she was suspicious of him from over three years ago and assumed the worst. Instead of realizing that maybe the reason he and his girlfriend were keeping it quiet was because he didn't have a girlfriend at all, and that the boy he kissed that night was his boyfriend, she had just assumed he was cheating. And then she'd told him he was disappointing and disgusting and a bad influence on the kids. Even after, he still made sure Will knew there were safe people around, that he'd have someone to talk to. And all she'd done was make him scared of her.
"oh, buddy."
Will's voice is muffled, and Jonathan has probably pulled him into a hug. It cracks when he speaks. "how can she say that about Steve but still love me? When so much of this shit's been my fault?"
"none of this is your fault. Don't believe that, will. No one blames you or El for any of it. You know that, right?"
"okay..."
"it's true. And as for mom...I don't know." Jonathan huffs "I'm not sure. I'm sorry, buddy."
Joyce turns then, feeling sick. She shouldn't have eavesdropped on her children, but now she had she was going to make things right. Hopefully.
Ensure everyone, including Steve, knew she was safe.
Part 3
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radiant-reid · 2 years ago
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just saw the post abt having to explain to spencer the talking stage then an actual relationship and how he overhears her telling someone she doesnt hv a bf maybe a blurb/fic on that idea?
Spencer steals glances at you every morning while you make your coffee and chat with Emily. It's so apparent to everyone what he's doing that JJ and Morgan have taken to stealing things off his desk, seeing how much they can take before he notices.
One day, when you're walking back to your desk you make a comment that has his interest piqued even more. "No, I don't have a boyfriend at the moment. I'm enjoying being single."
Spencer's heart sinks at your words, his mind instantly conjuring images of your dates. Dates that should mean he's your boyfriend, right? So why are you telling everyone you're single?
His head is spinning with confusion, and it's turning to anger pretty quickly. Are you ashamed to be with him? Surely if you're enjoying being single, that means you're dating other people or that you're not even interested in him.
He can't believe it, his emotions swinging from anger to sadness. It's unbelievable and you're breaking his heart.
Before you're even sitting down, Spencer's getting up and rushing to the bathroom to calm his racing heart rate before he has to be sick.
Your conversation doesn't even remain in your mind while you continue your day. What feels odd is Spencer freezing you out. Usually, on boring paperwork days, Spencer will tell you fun facts or dumb science jokes just to break up the repetitive work and horrific nature of your files.
He doesn't. Not a single comment comes your way, not even when you ask very open-ended science questions, basically inviting him to ramble about his favorite topics. None of it entices him.
His sarcastic remarks come just after lunchtime with a snappy attitude that irritates you. You're worried about him, firstly. Something must be wrong in his personal life to have him like this, but you can't help feeling a little angry that it's all being directed at you.
You were just starting to really like him and now he's turned around and shown you who he really is just because you're arguably who he's closest with. He's quickly becoming not the type of person you want to be with.
When you're the last two people in the bullpen, you realize you can't let him stay there all night. No matter how annoying he is, you're his friend, first and foremost, and he's clearly going through something.
So you approach him. "Hey, do you want to get dinner?" You ask.
"Not with you," Spencer replies coldly and totally uncharacteristically.
That's your breaking point. "What's wrong? Seriously, you've been horrible to me all day and I can't think of anything I've done to offend you."
Spencer sighs and it's weirdly more regretful than angry. "I... do you remember what you said this morning?"
You frown, unsure of what exactly he's referencing. "No?" Then you quickly add, "But I want to make things right."
"You said you didn't have a boyfriend." He feels pathetic saying it. The idea that someone like you would never be interested had been slipping from his mind, but now that concern is at the front of his mind.
You're only more confused then. "I don't."
"I thought I..." His cheeks flame up with embarrassment and he puts on a front of nonchalance. "I thought I was your boyfriend, okay? That's it."
Oh.
You wish you could have given Emily a different answer that morning. You would have proudly told her that Spencer Reid is your boyfriend, but you couldn't.
"You never asked me." You say softly, shuffling awkwardly on your feet.
"Did I need to?" He wonders dumbly, and it's very obvious that he's just unaware.
You shrug, explaining your point of view. "I thought we were still at the talking stage."
"The what?" Spencer asks.
"Like when you're just talking and casually dating, trying to work out if you're friends or if there's a romantic connection." You describe.
He nods softly before his heart sinks again. "I'm sorry, I'm an idiot." You're easily the best thing that's been in his life for a long time, and now he's totally ruined it. If you didn't think he was too inexperienced before, you do now.
"You're not, not provably." You break the awkward silence and tension that's fallen over the room, making him chuckle a little. "And I like you, exclusively."
Spencer's frown is adorable but it's concerning large this time. "Really? Still?"
"Mm-hmm." You assure him. "As long as you promise to talk to me when something's wrong instead of icing me out."
He stands up quickly, nodding. "I swear and I'm really sorry." He promises you. "So would you like to go to dinner? As boyfriend and girlfriend?"
You try to suppress an inappropriately large grin. "I would."
Spencer doesn't hide his smile and he's awkwardly tripping over his bag and feet to meet you around his side of the desk. "Let's do it." He smiles softly at you, offering out his hand for you to hold.
You take it happily, walking to the elevator with him. "Let's do it, boyfriend."
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multi-fan-dom-madness · 1 year ago
Text
Midnight Masquerade - Hunter
Chapter Summary: The bottle lands on Hunter, and you get a classic monsterfuck.
Chapter Warnings: minors be gone; werewolf!Hunter x f!reader, kinks: predator/prey + knotting; desired fear, discussion of consent and rules, thrill of the chase, hiding, oral (f receiving), slightly graphic description of werewolf transformation, pain, unprotected PiV sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, lots of cum, breeding kink if you squint and hold it sideways, mentions of blood, one instance of near dub-con (reader says “i can’t” and Hunter says otherwise), some aftercare
Word Count: 4.0k (i'm not even ashamed of this one)
A/N: please please heed the warnings on this one. while there is a discussion of consent at the beginning, once the werewolf appears, there is no more discussion. I will say right now: reader wants everything that happens. the fear reader experiences is akin to the desired fear one gets from going through haunted houses or watching scary movies. it costs nothing to keep on scrolling if you don't think you're the intended audience for this fic.
also yes i'm posting this on the full moon. and yes it's the Hunter's Moon. i planned this >:)
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...Hunter. 
As the bottle rocks to a halt, you glance up to meet Hunter’s piercing gaze. He’s always been extra perceptive, always had the ability to make you feel like he’s seeing through you, but tonight, with magic coursing through him, his eyes pin you in place. A smirk tilts the corners of his mouth up. 
Your breath shudders out of your chest in anticipation as you let your eyes wander over his costume-turned-reality. Ragged lumberjack plaid stretches over his broad shoulders, torn in places to reveal the continuation of his skeleton tattoo. His teeth have sharpened into points, bared in a grin as the smirk on his face widens. Even his hair, usually so neatly held back by his bandana, is fluffier, longer, wilder.
The strobing, dancing lights reflect yellow eyeshine in his gaze, and you shiver. Arousal already begins to pool in your lower belly, molten heat stirring faintly. Hunter’s nostrils flare as he breathes in. The way his eyes flutter lets you know that he can smell you even amidst the press of sweaty bodies, spilled alcohol, and sickly sweet fog. A whimper falls from you, unheard by anyone except him. 
Hunter twirls a fresh shot of clear alcohol between his fingers. “Well, mesh’la?” 
“U-Um,” you say. The rest of the troopers at the table don’t even bother to hide their smug smirks. “Yeah. Let’s do this.” 
Downing the shot, Hunter slams the glass on the table, shaking his unruly curls out of his face. Then he stands, his broad shoulders and narrow waist drawing your gaze down. Already you catch the hint of a bulge outlined at the apex of his thighs. Your mouth waters, body coming alive with electric desire, and you resist the impulse to squeeze your legs together.
Following his lead, you stand as well. He tucks you against his side and leads you through the crowd. Pressed against him, your senses are flooded with the furnace-like heat he radiates, the unique scent of spice and dirt that fills your nose, the tingling sense of controlled danger where his claw-tipped fingers scratch ever so lightly against your waist. You swallow heavily. Kriff, this is going to be a fun night, and you’re grateful once again to whoever sent you the invite to this party. 
To your surprise, Hunter steers you towards the bar. With gentle pressure on your lower back, he guides you to one of the leather stools, but remains standing himself. He leans his forearm on the sticky bartop next to you, his other hand resting on the swell of your thigh. 
“Need some more liquid courage, Sarge?” you say with a teasing smile, your words sounding much more cool and collected than you actually feel. 
He barks a short laugh. “Hardly. No, I would rather keep this experience between us from start to finish. I...” He trails off, eyes studying your face before drifting down to your body, sitting stiff and wound up before him. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “...want you to know what you’re getting into.”
“And what is it that I’m getting into?” you ask. You lean closer to him, so close you can feel his warm breath puffing over your face.
“An experience that requires a few ground rules.” 
You nod for him to continue.
“One: when I catch you, don’t run,” he says. 
The bottom of your stomach drops out with excitement. “‘When’?” 
The grin he gives you is wolfish—there’s no other word for it. His teeth bare in a smile masquerading as a snarl, eyeshine glinting once again. “That’s right.” 
“W-What’s rule two?” 
“If you change your mind, you fight as hard as you can. And hit the panic button on this comlink.” He slips the small metal device from his jeans pocket and holds it between clawed fingers. “I don’t know how much I’ll be able to stay in control if I transform.” 
Gripping the comlink with shaking fingers, you locate the panic button and, with a nod, tuck the device into your pocket. “Rule three?” 
Hunter tilts his head, seeming to look through you again. You fidget in your seat until you realize he must be listening to your body—you become intensely aware of the way that your heart hammers against your ribcage, pulse racing, and of the heat scorching through your veins only to pool deep in your core. When he refocuses on your face again, your cunt clenches around nothing at the hungry look in his eyes.
“Rule three,” he echoes, “don’t hold back.” 
He tilts your head up to capture your lips in a searing kiss. You moan in surprise, body melting with little resistance into his touch. His teeth nip at your bottom lip, not enough to draw blood, but enough that the quick sting sends a jolt of pleasure through you. Resting your palms on his chest, you delight in the way his muscles flex and how he seems to quiver. Like he’s holding himself back, despite his order for you to do the opposite.
You break away with a gasp. Hunter nudges your face to the side and, growling, presses his nose to the pulse point below your jaw. You gasp as he inhales your scent.
“Fuck, mesh’la,” he rasps, his words only meant for you, “you smell good enough to eat.” 
You bite your lip to keep your moan contained, still aware of the bartender shooting you a mildly amused look and of the dozens of people around you right now. As if he can sense you holding back—because he probably can—Hunter bites your neck. 
“Rule three,” he husks. 
“I’ll follow your rules if you follow them, too,” you gasp out. “Don’t you dare hold back, either.” 
He pulls back from you, hooded eyes meeting yours. Whatever he searches for in your gaze, he must find, because a slow, predatory grin spreads over his face. 
“Deal,” he says. “I’ll give you a head start. And then I’m going to fuck you, wherever I find you. Understood?” 
You can’t stop the whine that slips from your throat. “Y-Yes. Understood.” 
“Good.” He steadies you as you slide off the stool onto shaky legs. “Now run.” 
Your brain is several seconds behind, still stuck on the barely-contained growl in his voice and the way your skin shivers with goosebumps, but your body reacts immediately. Legs pumping, you take off through the crowd. Half-assed apologies tumble from you as you knock into people. You have no idea where you’re running to—you don’t even know how much of a head start he’s giving you. You just know you have to hide. Every instinct in you screams to run, to get to safety, to evade the burning gaze you can feel on your back even as you duck and weave between troopers.
You dash through an open doorway and skid to a halt, chest heaving with adrenaline. Before you lie several choices: a branching hallway filled with doors, an exit dead ahead, or a stairwell climbing up to a second-story exit. Glancing over your shoulder, you don’t see Hunter following yet. Part of you, a depraved, wholly needy part of you, wonders how much you should even try to hide—but an even more depraved part of you urges you to make it a challenge. How long will it take for him to find you if you try? 
Mind made up, you take the stairs two at a time and shove against the push-bar so the door swings open. But you don’t step through it. Instead, you let it shut on its own, then you turn and, emboldened by equal parts thrill and desire, you brace your hands on the metal bannister. Heaving yourself up over it, you try to keep as little contact with the railing as possible. 
Your stomach lurches as you drop the ten feet to the permacrete flooring. Thankfully, no joints sprain, and you don’t feel any pain in your shins from the impact. 
Unharmed and feeling pleased with yourself, you bolt through the ground-floor exit. 
Outside, the cool night air kisses your skin and wicks away the sweat that’s already gathered along your forehead. Head turning in either direction, you frantically search for someplace to hide. There’s the crystal forest, sure—but you don’t fancy getting poked with a thousand tiny shards like the ones you walked across when you arrived. You could sneak around the building and run back to the tiny spaceport. But that feels too...predictable. Why run when you can try to hide in plain sight?
To your right, a ladder leads up to the second-floor rooftop. Grabbing onto the cold rungs, you pull yourself up, hands and feet flying. You reach the top and, panting, survey your options. 
This rooftop is barren, save for the doorway you assume leads to the stairs you leapt off. But the next building over has several clusters of chairs and tables, tucked into the shadows of a decorative art piece that twists with elegant curves towards the cloud-studded sky. 
You go to take a step when an idea strikes you. You rip off your jacket, baring your arms to the chilled air, and drape it over the edge of the rooftop next to the ladder. Maybe the extra body heat, sweat, and scent clinging to the fabric will draw his attention and throw him off?
You slink to the closed doorway, then leap past it. You really have no idea how much of your scent you’re leaving behind, or what clues he’ll use to find you, but leaving as few footprints behind seems like a safe bet. Once you’re past the doorway, you break into a sprint again. The next-door rooftop isn’t too far, and after a relatively easy jump, you stumble toward the table tucked closest to the art piece. 
As quickly and quietly as you can, you crawl under the small, square table and arrange the chairs to block your body from view. It’s not perfect, by any means, but it’s the best you can do. 
And it’s not a moment too soon. The door on the other rooftop slams open. Hunter’s dark silhouette stalks out. Even from this distance, you can make out the way his head twitches back and forth as he tries to sniff out your trail. Clenching your jaw, you do your best to calm your labored breathing and urge your racing heart to slow. Anticipation trembles in your limbs.
Hunter jogs to the ladder and picks up your discarded jacket. He leans precariously over the edge of the roof, searching, and for a moment you think you’ve won. 
The wind shifts. 
Cool air sighing past you, you shiver as the sweat dries on your skin. A moment later, Hunter’s head snaps up, and he looks straight at you.
His teeth shine as he bares them in a dangerous smile.
“Oh kriff.”  
You gather your feet beneath you before you remember rule one: don’t run. All you can do is sit, frozen and shaking, beneath the would-be safety of the small table. Hunter prowls toward you. 
When he makes the jump between rooftops, you whimper, scrabbling backward until your shoulders bump against the swirling art piece, deeper into the shadows. You know it won’t help, but the darkness is comforting. Cold seeps into your bones even as your body alights once more with fresh arousal. Kark, have his shoulders always been so broad? 
He comes to a stop directly in front of the table you hide beneath. For a moment, you hold your breath, and the world around you seems to freeze. What is he waiting for? 
The table and chairs scatter with a crash as he yanks the furniture away from you. 
You yelp, surprised fear thrumming through your veins. Above you, standing tall and imposing, Hunter cocks his head at you. He tosses your jacket in your lap. 
“Nice trick,” he says. His voice grates against your skin, causing you to shiver. “Woulda worked if the wind hadn’t changed.” Then he shakes his head. “Well, it woulda worked for a moment. Could smell your cunt all the way over there.” 
He lowers until he crouches in front of you. In the faint starlight, his skull tattoo stands in stark relief, a terrifying visage of death. Your lips part as you pant with need. 
“Fuck, you have no idea how good you smell,” he murmurs. His dark gaze rakes over your cowering form, his tongue wetting his lips. “C’mere.” 
Clawed fingers wrapping around your ankles, he yanks you towards him. You yelp, body stretching flat, and he uses your momentary surprise to tear your pants from you. The fabric yields with a loud rrrrrrip, only to hang in tatters from your waist. 
“K-Kriff,” you swear. “Hunter—”
He shushes you gently. “Let me taste you.” 
He hooks one claw under the flimsy elastic band of your underwear and, with a sharp tug, the fabric snaps twice against your skin. When he peels back the ruined undergarment, you both groan at the faint, shimmery line of slick that pulls away with it. 
Like a man starved, Hunter presses your legs wide open and buries his face in your wet pussy. All concerns about your ruined clothes flee as soon as he licks through your folds. You cry out, pleasure rippling through you as his warm mouth envelopes your center. Propping yourself up on one elbow, you twist the fingers of one hand into his curls, holding his head against you. Your hips rock in pure reaction. Hunter growls, the noise vibrating against your clit. His eyes pierce yours, dark wells of lust and need. Your mouth falls open as you moan. The sounds of your pleasure bounce off the sculpture behind you.
“F-Fuck, Hunter!” you squeal as he sucks on your clit. 
He drags his nose through your folds, inhaling your sweet scent. “You’re soaked, mesh’la. Did you like running from me, huh? Liked running from the big bad wolf?” 
“Ye-e-e-es!” you keen, throwing your head back as he fucks you with his tongue. Deep in your belly, the molten lava of your desire begins to solidify into something more solid, something that promises bone-melting pleasure. 
Overhead, past the art installation, you watch with hazy eyes as the clouds drift lazily across the sky. Steadily, the night grows brighter. Though your upper body remains in shadow, your legs, and with them, Hunter, become bathed in silvery moonlight. 
Hunter’s grip on your thighs turns painful. His claws press a little too hard against your soft skin. Wincing, you snap your attention back to where Hunter’s mouth closes around your cunt. A moan punches out of your chest as you watch his eyes blink rapidly, shifting from lust-blown to golden and shining, alight with an intelligence that isn’t quite human. 
He shoves himself back from you, stumbling away, his entire body convulsing. “D-Don’t run,” is all he manages to grit out before—
Snap! 
You gasp, unable to do anything but watch with wide eyes as Hunter’s body violently contorts and transforms before you. His limbs elongate, knees bending unnaturally, ribs cracking as a new form tears itself out of his skin. Fear and desire chase each other through your body; you don’t know which one you feel most intensely.
With a deep, sonorous howl, the Hunter you know is replaced by a hulking wolven beast. Crouched on two legs, the werewolf pants heavily, staring down at massive, clawed hands. Hunter’s clothes hang off the beast in rags, shredded by the way his body swelled and grew during the transformation. But what strikes you the most is his fur. Dark gray fur, shot through with white streaks, falls in a shaggy coat all across his body. With a jolt you realize the white fur matches exactly the skeleton tattoo Hunter bears—in his wolf form, the tattoo is still humanoid, reflecting the person now trapped within.
“H-Hunter?” you ask, voice shaky and tentative. 
The wolf snaps his attention to you. Those bright, intelligent golden eyes lock onto yours as a snarl, animalistic and deep, tears from him, his teeth bared. His snout, rough and ridged, twitches as he scents you. Your legs remain open, slick folds still bared and glistening in the moonlight.
Dropping onto all fours, the werewolf sniffs the air again. Then, quicker than you can fully process, the wolf pounces. His claws dig into your sides as he drags you closer once more, a startled scream tearing from your throat. The sound only seems to encourage him. Growling deep in his chest, Hunter—the werewolf—he lowers his head and licks a stripe up your pussy. 
You gasp at the odd sensation. His tongue is long and rough against your sensitive skin, but you find it strangely pleasurable. A shudder runs up your body as the wolf laps at your dripping core; the heat simmering in your lower belly blazes back to life, a raging inferno of need blinding you to the fear of what this wolf really could do to you if he wanted. But you don’t dare move within his grasp.
You fight to keep your hips still as you watch the werewolf lick your cunt. Gasping for breath, you catch sight of something—something thick and red, hanging between his thighs. 
A groan claws out of you. “F-Fuck. Hunter, please.” 
Whether the werewolf understands you or not, you’re unsure, but he withdraws his mouth, the fur around his lips soaked with your juices. You heave a shuddering gasp as he hooks one large hand under your ass, angling your body. His other hand wraps around his large, throbbing cock. Watching in fascination, you moan as the slim, pointed tip drags through your soaked folds. 
“Please,” you whimper. “Please.” 
With another low growl, Hunter thrusts into you, burying his thick length to the hilt. You shout, pleasure and pain biting through you in equal measures, as he splits you open. Walls fluttering around the intrusion, you go boneless, forcing yourself to relax. 
Hunter sets a brutal, punishing pace. His cock reaches parts of you no one ever has before, stretching you in ways that you’re sure will ruin you for anyone else. High, heady moans tumble from you with every sharp thrust of his hips, your nipples pebbled in the cold night air. One of your hands squeezes the soft flesh of your breasts, the other snaking down between your bodies to circle around your clit. Pleasure spikes within you, orgasm drawing closer as you play with yourself. 
“G-Gonna—” You let out a choked moan. “Gonna cum.” 
Maybe the wolf does understand you, because he bares his teeth in a terrifying display, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. Spit drools onto your heated skin. Gathering some of it on your fingers, you return to your clit to rub frantic circles there. 
Hunter adjusts the angle of your hips by a fraction, and you cum with a scream as he drives into that one devastating spot inside you. Back arching off the permacrete ground, your vision whites out as the wolf fucks you through your orgasm. Wave after wave after wave of pleasure crests over you, until you’re sobbing from overstimulation. 
Pushing with weak arms on the wolf’s chest, you somehow manage to get him to pull out of you, to give you a moment to catch your breath and recover. The wolf looms over you, panting and drooling. His cock twitches when you reach down to stroke the strange appendage.
“Good boy,” you mutter, leaning up to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. On a whim, you reach up to scratch behind one of his ears. The wolf’s eyes slide shut, a pleased hum vibrating in his chest.
Then his instincts seem to kick back in. With a huff, Hunter flips you, his nails scratching across the soft skin of your tummy. Chest pressed to the ground, ass in the air, you whine brokenly as he pushes his length into your tight heat once again. You rock your hips, meeting him thrust for thrust, mind melting into incoherency as he fucks against that shattered piece of heaven in your cunt. A second orgasm begins to build in your lower belly, and you desperately chase it, circling your clit once again. 
Hunter is getting close as well. His incessant growls are steadily becoming higher, more akin to whines than snarls. His claws dig into your flesh hard enough to break skin; tiny rivulets of blood slide down your front. You don’t care, just so long as he makes you cum again. Tears form in the corners of your eyes as your body winds tighter and tighter, orgasm threatening to pull you under at any moment. In your slick cunt, Hunter’s cock pulses, and seems to bulge. 
Then, without warning, he buries himself in you as deep as he can go. You cry out, body shuddering with pleasure as his cock—swelling and knotting—presses against your walls. You cum on his knot like that, squealing in delight, nerves obliterated and frayed as he cums with a howl. Knot pulsing, he paints your insides with ropes of hot cum that just don’t seem to stop. He fills you to the brim, and then some—you can feel his hot spend dripping down your thighs where it leaks out past his cock.
Slowly, Hunter begins to transform back into himself. His fingernails shrink, pulling the tips from your body. His fur dissolves into ash, and now against your back, his sweaty skin sticks to yours where he gasps for air. But his cock remains knotted in your cunt, both of you swollen and sensitive. 
You regain the ability to talk before he does. “H-Hunter. Hey. You okay?” 
He hums, forehead pressed between your shoulder blades. 
“I need a verbal answer,” you say between pants. 
“I’m—fuck, I’m good.” He pushes himself off you with shaky arms. But he remains kneeling behind you, locked in your tight walls. “Did I hurt you?” 
“Not in any way that I didn’t like,” you say. “Honestly kind of forgot about the panic button. Not that I wanted to use it,” you hurry to add. “That was... I don’t even have the words. ‘Amazing’ doesn’t cut it.” 
He chuckles, and the vibrations make you both moan. Your pussy clenches weakly around him. With warm, human fingers, Hunter squeezes the flesh of your ass and rocks you gently back and forth. 
“Oh stars,” you breathe. “I can’t, Hunter, it’s too much—”
“You can,” he murmurs. His hands help you move, each gentle thrust loosening the knot still swollen inside you. “You can take it, mesh’la.” 
Keening, your hands scrabble for purchase. Fingers wrapping around his wrists where he holds you, you crane your neck to look back at him over your shoulder. His face is sweaty, hair plastered to his skin, and his lips are flushed and swollen. His eyes are half-lidded and still dark with lust. In a word, he looks debauched. When his gaze meets yours, he smirks.
“That’s it,” he encourages, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your hips. “Just like that.” 
You cum again, preening under his praise despite the way your aching body screams for rest. This orgasm is slow, bone-deep and debilitating in its power. But the extra gush of slick is enough to push Hunter out of you. You both groan at the sensation of separating. 
“Look at that,” Hunter murmurs. When you glance back again, his eyes are transfixed on your cunt. His cum, all of it, wells up and spills out of your spent pussy. Seemingly without realizing it, he gathers some of the sticky substance and pushes it back into your cunt with his thumb. 
You hiss. He withdraws his hands, then tugs you up onto your knees and cradles you to his chest. “You did so well, mesh’la.” 
“You, too, Hunter,” you mumble against his skin. For a long while, the pair of you remain there, wrapped in a comforting embrace, until you chuckle. 
“What’s so funny?” he asks. 
“Our clothes are ruined,” you say. “How are we supposed to go anywhere?” 
He laughs with you, despite not having an answer. That’s alright, you think, it’s an excuse to get him into one of those rooms downstairs....
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karlachismylife · 29 days ago
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My linear algebra class got moved to tomorrow and I have the terrible urge to post, so here are some speedrun headcanons (yes I'm aware that it's been done a few times, and I agree with the takes I've seen, but lemme just have my fun). It's something along the lines of favourite body part, I guess? But not quite.
I wouldn't say they're explicit, but there are suggestive parts.
Also these aren't strictly x reader, cuz I feel these can be applied to character x character relationships too, but I won't tag them cuz there's a lot of them and I don't wanna get yelled at by people who hate seeing even hints of x reader content. But I have very much been thinking GhostPrice, NikPrice, Ghoap, SoapGaz and a fuckton of others in the process. Just something cozy and loving to start the week since it's snowing (no they are not snow-related).
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Price is a tits man. First of all, research shows that older men prefer boobs over ass (I KNOW that he's not actually an old man, it's a joke), but second - he just gives off vibes of someone who can spend hours holding his partner in his lap and just groping and kneading them breasts - doesn't matter the size, doesn't matter whether those are real breasts, implanted, just pecs; whether you have big areolas. mastectomy scars, absolute flatness, doesn't matter in the slightest: John will latch onto them, mouthing all over the skin, sucking hickeys and lovebites dangerously close to the area usually visible under their clothes. If there's not enough flesh to fill out his palms, he'll just hold what he gets while he sucks on those nipples eagerly, beard prickling sensitive, wet skin. John is also a tits man outside sex: his partner's chest is his favourite pillow, so he rests his head there or nuzzles between for a nap regularly. It's about the intimacy, the heartbeat and the sensual symbolism, not tits in particular.
Ghost is a lap/belly nuzzler. Nothing feels safer than being able to rest his troubled head on them soft thighs and hide in the softness of one's stomach from the world. He might be so much bigger than his partner's lap, or they might not have that much meat on their bones, but Simon still feels the safest when he's cradled like a baby and surrounded by the warmth of one of the most vulnerable parts of a human body. Hug his shoulders, shield him, push him into the folding between your belly and thighs - that keeps his demons away. And gives him a nice opportunity to tickle/blow raspberries when you least expect it. Probably finds delight in those occasions when yout stomach grumbles right above his chipped ear - you can feel his scarred lips stretch into a wide smile against your skin and you can rest assured he will let some little joke slip. But even more probably he will ask to stay for five more minutes before you can grab a bite to eat.
Soap is an ass man and he also has been ashamed 1,5 times in his life, so he will put his grabby paws on his partner's butt in all circumstances, beware. Sneaks a squeeze every time he passes by, slides his hands down during kisses, holds a posessive handful when he has his partner in his lap. It's just nice to look at and also very fidgety for his restless hands - so good for squeezing, kneading and pinching! Is a menace and will slap that arse - with a palm or, after he almost injured himself with the change/keys stuffed in your back pocket, a towel. Will be a coward and run away from revenge, but actually can take a rough spanking and give one too if you're into that. Absolutely uses your ass as a pillow, good luck shaking him off if you need to move - he somehow gets heavier when he's relaxed, but keeps a steel grip on your hips. If you wake him up by trying to escape, he'll just drag you back and bite. Oh yeah, he bites. He'll do anything with your ass, really, make out with it, take it out to candlelit dinner, tie a knot... are those sex metaphors? Yes. But also if he could marry someone's butt, he probably would.
Gaz feels like he would be into thighs, but also into hands. Like, every one of them isn't a straightforward character, but Kyle's duality strikes me the most for some reason. Probably because it's so trixter-y in its nature, he's such a romantic, moral man, very much focused on doing the right thing and serving as a compass for everyone around him, even if his views and principles evolve with time, but he's also such a little shit at heart - a real prankster and chaos agent. Incredibly clever and sly. So it feels right that while he loves just holding hands, be it out on the street or while lounging at home in a cuddle heap, tracing patterns on the back of his partner's palm and brushing his thumb over your knuckles, he is also a feral fox, gripping, biting and kissing those thighs, ogling the way they move when you walk, leaving marks and tracing those with his tongue... he's also a big lap napper, but he prefers his face stuck in the lap itself, arms wrapped around your thighs tightly. Or even better - one arm hugging your thighs like a comfy pillow, and the other resting peacefully with your hand clutched in his, fingers intertwined tenderly.
Nikolai is a waist grabber. He probably prefers tits over ass, yeah, but he's more focused on keeping his arm wrapped around his partner's waist - or at least pressing his big palm on the small of their back. Is a big tease and likes to keep everyone around him on their toes, so expect sudden pinches of tickle attacks on your sides. Comes up from behind to hug you and lock his huge paws on your stomach, probably interrupting whatever you were doing, but he just wants to hold what's his properly, arms full and securely tightened. Also he likes to kiss those spots behind his partner's ears (and tickle those too). He's not overly possessive since he very well knows only the dumbest of the dumb will try to steal from him (and also he's pretty sure he's doing enough to keep his partner with him willingly), but he just likes the feeling of having something he likes so much. Might stem from his strict upbringing, soviet scarcity of everything or maybe he's just a lil' bit greedy by nature. Either way, his preferred sex poses usually include him holding you by the waist a lot.
König is there to be the little spoon. Not only is it safe since he trusts his partner more than anyone, it also frees him from the necessity to hold eye contact - it's just tiring and a little anxiety-inducing for him, even if you say you're okay with him avoiding it. He feels like he's just expected to do it, but when his back is turned to you, he kinda isn't. And finally, it's just fun: he has quite a sense of humor, actually, and he won't deny that him being the "little" spoon with a partner who's smaller (doesn't matter if your size difference is comicly huge or you're actually not that far, you're definitely smaller than him). He also very much enjoys taking his partner's palm and placing it over his heartbeat - it's soothing and romantic, and also will help you notice if his anxiety spikes before he has some upsetting reaction. Never happened while you two cuddle, actually, but knowing you're there to just be with him and keep him safe is enough for this big boy. Will repay the favour by seating you between his legs, chest pressed to your back, and cuddling you like that - but only when seated for some reason. Might be spine problems, I dunno.
Valeria is a throat grabber, squeezer, biter, kisser and everything else you can imagine. She likes power, she's not ashamed of that, and she can handle having it. Marks her partner up with bitemarks and hickeys, and maybe even knife scratches and her name carved into the soft, vulnerable place between their collarbones. Likes to just run her fingers over your throat, feeling the pulse, stretching her grip to accomodate as much of your lifeline as she can into her threatening palm. But it's not always such obvious powerplay, she also enjoys kissing the soft skin gently and innocently, simply because it's sensitive and intimate. Her fingertips dance around your nape and throat while you're cuddling, sometimes they stop to feel your voice vibrating as you're telling her something, sometimes she flicks your earlobe plafully or scratches that nice place at the base of your skull. It's possessive and warm, and she would never actually threaten your life (probably), but the thrill gets both of you.
That's my random character speedrun for now, might add someone with a part two (feel free to request), and now back to my other things to do.
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vevobly · 2 months ago
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Being Natalie Scatorccio Girlfriend Headcanons (Pre-Crash) [Part 1]
A/N: This is technically my first headcanons post. But I ended up posting Jackie's first then Misty's, so yeah! Heads up for sensitive topics such as addiction, smoking, and implied/referenced terrible home.
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Since Nat comes from a rough home life and doesn't exactly have the best reputation at school, your relationship is probably being kept on the down low. It's not because Nat might be ashamed of you or anything like that; she just doesn't want to drag you down with her. She already gets a lot of unwanted attention and judgment from others. She doesn't want more—especially if it affects you too.
She isn't big on public displays of affection. But you CAN catch her giving you these small, meaningful gestures! A light touch on the arm, a passing glance, or, if you smoke, she'll quietly give you a cigarette when no one's looking.
Nat doesn't open up easily. But with you? As cheesy as it might be, it's different. You're one of the very few people she can be vulnerable with when life decides to shit on her. She doesn't tell you everything, but it's fine. You understand, and you aren't going to push her to do so (unless something warrants it).
She'll call you up late at night just to talk about whatever. Sometimes she crashes at your place to avoid the bullshit she deals with at home, sleeping more soundly in your bed than anywhere else. When you bring that up, she'll either respond with something witty or sappy. And you? You'll like whatever she chooses to tell you instead of the other.
Dating Nat means late night drives in her beat up car with no clear destination! She loves going where the road takes you two, and you're always down to ride shotgun with her.
With this in mind, you two occasionally sneak off to places that are abandoned. Why? For privacy and peace, of course! Oh, and because those locations usually have great views. You can bet your ass that Nat has taken you to loads of romantic places (though she would argue that they're plain) already, talking about how shitty Wiskayok is and how you guys could escape it one day together. Neither of you are sure of anything, but it is nice to dream about, right?
Nat is VERY loyal to you. She might not say it, but she shows it by defending you in her own subtle (some of the yellowjackets would disagree with that—I think you already know who) way when people at school talk behind your back.
Of course, being Nat's girlfriend grants you the special privilege of seeing a side of her that others don't. Which is her being surprisingly sweet when it's just the two of you. She’ll let you pick the music when she's driving (even if she grumbles about your taste) and surprise you with small gifts like mixtapes or a pack of your favorite candy.
Nat's not the most affectionate, but when she is, she turns into this huge sap. Point that one out and she'll deny it vehemently. Either rolling her eyes or crossing her arms to her chest before insisting you're the one being a massive sap. Touché, you'll tell her, and then she'll start laughing; saying you're her sap.
Being together with Nat means you've got to deal with rumors about her at school from time to time. You hate it but what can you do? People will talk whatever about her whenever. While it certainly made you pissed that people do that to her, you've learned to just ignore what they say about her. You know her. You know Nat. And she is way different from how people see her. While she appreciates you defending her, she doesn't need you to. She's not a charit
When things get bad, she'll seek you out. Sometimes she'll show up at your door in the middle of the night, simply saying "I needed to see you." and you'll let her stay. Your place is always welcome for her.
Believe it or not, you're the first person Natalie tells about her frustations (usually the team or her dad). Annnnd, even though she might try to brush off her feelings; you know how to read her and help her without pushing too hard. Still, it makes her feel like a damn--
You know about her addiction. And while you always make sure she's okay, that just isn't enough. So you give her space, let her know that you will be there for her no matter what (but will you though? your relationship is just a faulty boat that's been leaking from the very start. No matter how many times you try to bail the water out, it will sink. It was just destined to). You'll always love her. You'll always love Natalie.
When she's spiraling, you'll be the one to bring her back. Nothing big has to be done, neither of you guys could care about those. Just a quiet word, a reassuring look, or being there is enough. She loves you, she really does. But how the fuck do you love her? She's a mess, and being with her brings you absolutely nothing. why. Why. WHy. WHY. WHY DO YOU LOVE HER OF AL--
If you smoke: Nat loves sharing cigarettes with you. It's almost like a ritual. You or Natalie light one up, pass it back and forth with each other while talking. You'll both sneak out sometimes during school breaks, find a secluded spot to talk and smoke freely there from everyone else.
If you don't smoke: it'll still happen. The difference is that Nat will just be the only one smoking while you'll just watch her take a drag maybe and talk with her. It's a bummer you don't smoke but Nat will take whatever company you can give her whenever.
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cythiraeth · 1 year ago
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cupid's chokehold! - i. e. the moment genshin men knew they've fallen for you
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✧ ─ ⌑ pairing: gn!reader x al-haitham, cyno, xiao (separate)
✧ ─ ⌑ short summary: the exact moment (or process which lead to it) when genshin men knew that they are head over heels in love with you!
✧ ─ ⌑ about the work: lowercase, fluff, not proof-read, lighter (?) and more free form of the work this time!
✧ ─ ⌑ notes: ehe, long time no see! i'm back to life and posting, so to start i picked something that was easier to write and is slightly in a different form than my previous works, however, i hope you'll like it :> also, i'm still waiting for any work requests, so if you have any idea, feel free to messege me!!
✧ ─ ⌑ word count: 1.5 k in total
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 al-haitham
seeing you in a pretty, elegant outfit, probably some kind of dress or suit, maybe showing your collarbones or it just being mesmerizing,  it's up to you how you imagine a perfect fit ;) he is just PHYSICALLY UNABLE to take his eyes off you! the usually calm and collected al-haitham forgets how to use the ability to speak for a brief second.
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the moment you left the room in which you were getting ready as he was waiting outside, he almost gasped out loud
i mean literally, this man's brain stopped working for a second
you two were supposed to attend tighnari's birthday party, and while he didn't consider it a occasion to wear something elegant, you did the opposite 
that's why he was left so speechless. because he was caught by surprise! he thought you would wear your casual clothes just as he did…
but it happened, you wore one of your favorite outfits for special occasions, and he was flabbergasted 
of course it's not like your look was the only reason he has fallen for you! he was definitely considering it many times before this happened, but he was living in denial.
"no, i don't actually have feelings for them. they make me feel comfortable, i crave hearing their voice or laugh and i care about them a lot, but no, we're just friends" - probably al-haitham to himself at some point in his life.
but this time, he couldn't explain his feelings in any rational way known to man. you were so stunning that his eyes shined uncontrollably when he laid them on you. he was so busy studying your silhouette, your face and your hair that he didn't even hear your first question, which was:
"and? how do i look?" you asked, opening the door but still keeping your hands on the doorframe and leaning on it. you were slightly blushed because it was quite embarrassing to let him see you like this, but if you were to be honest, you were also a little bit excited to see his reaction
so when he didn't even answer you and remained indifferent on the outside, the slightly raised corners of your mouth drooped
you just weren't aware of what he's been experiencing on the inside…
because his heart started pounding a little bit faster and he was ashamed of it but on the other hand you looked gorgeous and he couldn't stop himself from thinking about what would he do if you were in relationship
(he had such a strong urge to kiss your hand like a gentleman for some reason)
"what? do i really look that bad?" you asked after you have swallowed the bitterness of your first impression
"sorry?" he said, blinking, your words drawing him out of his reverie, "did you say something?" 
you snorted, annoyed by his behavior, assuming that he probably couldn't care less about your look at the moment, but at least he should try to pretend he does 
but oh, how wrong you were…
when you repeated the question he only murmured something under his breath in response, so you decided to let him be
you noticed he got sweaty all of sudden, it was probably too hot for him inside, you thought, so you took the last things and you two left the house.
in reality, he wasn't feeling hot because of the temperature of course, but he was just as surprised by his own actions as you were. surprised in a slightly different way though….
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cyno
talking with tighnari... he found all his confidence to talk to him about his possible feelings for you, that he could not recognize and tighnari was left speechless because of how innocent and lost in his feeling cyno looked
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he was probably hanging out with tighnari someday, maybe they went out for a dinner, and somehow the topic of conversation has come down to you
for a long time he was hesitant to talk about his feeling towards you out loud but today he decided he'd try discussing it with his friend
because if not tighnari then who would be a suitable person? surely not you 
also, don't think that he was aware of what he's feeling. HAHA, no. he would never 
"what in your opinion y/n thinks of me…?" was his first question. he tried to choose the words carefully and say it in his normal tone but even a small sign of arousal in his voice was enough for tighnari to notice that something is up
"and why are you asking?" he wanted to make sure that his interpretation is right
"no reason in particular," his answer was quick, those words escaped his lips uncontrollably, so he had to add something "i just consider them a close friend and i want to know if they do too."
tignari almost started laughing out loud, but he controlled himself.
close friend? oh man, he is so clueless…
"are you sure that they are a "close friend?"" he was actually having some fun but at the same time he just wanted to smack himself on the forehead, he couldn't decide 
"well, definitely not a "distant friend"" 
that's it, that's the moment when tighnari smacked his forehead 
"i'll pretend i didn't hear that," he tried to be serious, but it wasn't easy. "listen, you look at them like they are your entire world. that's the kind of look people give to their lovers, not close friends!" he finally said it out loud
cyno had to blink twice to process what was just said.
he. in love. with you? 
maybe? i mean, he always cared about your opinion about his jokes the most and he wanted to spend as much time as possible with you… but he thought that it's normal for friends to feel this way. and to steal glances at you person when you aren't looking, and to read every book you recommend him…
"you say so?" he finally asked, resting his chin on his hands "then maybe you're right," he admitted out loud
"FINALLY" tighnari couldn't hold it any longer… he was SO relieved that his friend won't be acting like he is running around in the fog anymore… right?
"and why are you so emotional about it?" cyno was genuinely confused (pls help this man he is often so clueless)
"because by now even collei knew"
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xiao
 when you kept coming back after all of his attempts to push you away. he wanted to protect you, protect you from him, because for a human it would be better to stay away from his karmic debt, right? but when you remained determined to get closer to him no matter how many times he tried to disencourage you, he slowly realized that maybe, just maybe he can let you get closer to his heart than he ever let anyone to be.
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in his case, there wasn't any particular situation that made him realize his feelings, it was rather a complex and long process (not really a chokehold then but shh…)
he knew you for several months despite of his numerous attempts of cutting any ties he had with you
it was just that… you were stubborn. but not in a regular way, no. your stubbornness was much less invasive and annoying, and it manifested in your constant willingness to get closer to him
however, you never imposed yourself nor did you try convincing him! you were just visiting wangshu inn regularly, maybe tried striking up a conversation a few times, even just sitting in silence was enough for you
and because of all those actions he never felt overwhelmed by your presence! actually, after some time, he just got used to it and secretly started liking it
however, there was always this silent voice in the back of his head that he shouldn't be doing this and that he's forgetting himself
so definitely, when he slowly started thinking of you in that way at the very beginning he was IN SUCH A BIG DENIAL that it's almost unbelievable 
alright, he admitted it to himself, but swore to N E V E R talk to anyone about it, especially and above all, to you.
he just decided to act as if those feelings didn't exist, that's all. and it went like that for quite a long time unfortunately… (at least you can be sure that he keeps his promises at all costs!!)
and after some time, when he was surprised that they didn't just go away, a certain thought crossed his mind…
he started thinking about what ifs and imagining what could happen if he theoretically decided to tell you about his feelings 
(he spent another few months on that though)
at some point he just couldn't look at you without seeing you both holding hands in his mind or stand next to you without the urge to put his hand on your shoulder (of course only in private, he would never do pda…)
but still, his karmic debt… 
he was so torn between those two thoughts (there were two wolves inside of him)
but as you expect, after months of his internal struggling, and your consistency in getting closer to him and encouraging him to open up, he let his feelings win for once in his long life
(take good care of him because he deserves it)
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⌞⌑ cythiraeth - 23.11.2023. please, do not copy, claim as yours or share outside tumblr! ⌑⌝
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ddejavvu · 1 year ago
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*slides over $5* reader who likes being degraded, and aaron who's happy to comply
this post is 18+, minors dni.
You're usually grateful for Aaron's level of consideration on your behalf, but now it's stifling.
"Sweetheart," He cups your cheek, worried eyes boring into yours, "Are you sure you want this?"
"Yes," You whine, nodding against his hand, "I want you to call me names, Aaron, be mean to me, please."
Something minute shifts in his eyes, and he scoffs, dropping your face from his palm.
"Of course you'd want that," He mutters, voice thick with sadism, "God, I should have known. Is that why you're so bratty all the time? Is that why you tease me in front of our friends? You want me to snap? Call you a whore? And you can pretend I'm just being mean," He sneers down at you, eyes narrowed, "Like you didn't want it all along?"
You swallow, dry now that the saliva in your mouth has all but evaporated. Your chest is tight as you stare up at Aaron where he looms over you on the bed, and you don't have the breath to respond even if you tried.
"Pathetic," He spits, lips curled in such a condescending smirk it sends a gush of wetness towards the fabric of your panties, "You're a slut and a coward. Trying to trick me into giving you what you want because you're too ashamed to tell me yourself."
It's all too much for you. The clothes you have on, albeit skimpy, feel like a snowsuit in the summer, burning your skin and sending sweat down from your hairline as you watch Aaron with rapt attention.
"Baby?" He asks, and you're suddenly worried he's gone farther than he's comfortable with. You try containing yourself, tamping down your excitement to hum in question, nodding disjointedly.
"You should be ashamed," He laughs darkly, and when he leans forward, you lunge for him. He stops you with a hand to your face, not a slap but a barrier from his lips. He grips your cheeks roughly, just hard enough to send a tingle down your spine that makes your thighs clench.
"What do you think you're doing?" He drawls, something so sick and degrading about his tone that you actually moan at his grip.
"I need you," You pant, lower half on fire, "Please, Aaron, I- I need-"
"You don't deserve me," He chuckles huffily, "You don't deserve my cock. But I deserve to get off. So get on your knees," He commands, "And if you even think about touching yourself while you're down there, you won't see my cock for a month."
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