#it would be so nice if this actually happened
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okaylikeschaewon · 3 days ago
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Hotter-N-Funner
~10k words, Roommates series, smut, Part 1 here
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“... part of a punishment.”
“She did what?!” Mint shouted through the door right before a thundering crash echoed in the room.
“Mint? You alright?!” you called out, holding your ear to the door. “Mint?”
“Yeah, all good!” Mint’s disheveled voice came through. After a couple of seconds, he opened the door, rubbing his hip. “I fell.”
“You fell in the toilet?”
“Not in the toilet you idiot,” Mint shoved your shoulder. “So, tell me, how the fuck did you manage that on the first date?”
“A bit of an odd story honestly,” you started.
“How odd could it be?” Mint asked while grabbing a bag of chips off the counter. “Sounds like a simple case of another college hoe being horny.”
“Be nice,” you scolded him. “She’s actually really sweet. No jokes like that when she stops by.”
“She’s coming over?” Mint gasped through a handful of chips. “I can’t even remember the last girl you’ve had over.”
“I mean it,” you snatched the bag out of his hands and took a chip for yourself. “I really like this girl, I want to see where it goes.”
“Do you actually like her or do you just like that she’s hot as fuck?” Mint asked while he took another chip from the bag as you held it out for him. “What about that bartender you’ve been chatting up?”
“I don’t know man. I don’t think she’s actually interested in a serious relationship anyway, even if I did want that. I’m happy just being friends,” you replied. “But back to this girl, seriously, I had such a good time with her. And sure, it helps that she’s hot as fuck.”
“Yeah of course you had a good time with her sucking-”
“Stop it,” you gave Mint’s arm a little shove. “That’s the one part I kinda regret.”
“Regret? The fuck?” Mint cocked his eyebrows. “Head game that weak?”
“No, that definitely wasn’t the problem,” you sighed. “I just like… almost feel like we robbed ourselves of having a really special first time… does that make sense?”
“No.”
“Maybe you’re right,” you mumbled as you picked up a couple of dirty glasses from the table.
“Here,” Mint took the glasses from your hands. “Of course I get what you’re saying, and you already know I support whatever decision you wanna make. Just tell me though, why do you think this girl’s so special already?”
“Well,” you began before pausing to think for a moment. “One could argue the coffee date and even what happened in the bathroom was kinda forced-”
“You don’t say?” Mint dramatically gasped, feigning shock.
“But lunch wasn’t,” you continued, ignoring his theatrics. “And it went fucking perfectly, we just meshed so well, I swear I could talk to her for hours. The vibe, her energy, everything was just so… when I think about her right now, I think about lunch, not the coffee shop.”
“Sounds like my roommate’s in love already,” Mint teased. “Devil’s advocate, she was just using you for the free meal.”
“She paid for it.”
“You let her pay? That’s not like you.”
“Not exactly,” you elaborated. “We were hitting it off pretty well and the idea of me treating her to dinner sorta came up, so she snuck off to the bathroom and did the whole pay behind your back thing.”
“This might be the most unbelievable part of the story,” Mint chuckled. “Why the hell would she do that?”
“Obviously I don’t know for sure, but this is why I’m telling you I feel like there’s something more here,” you explained. “She could have easily done her punishment and then left, or even taken the free lunch and then left, but I think her logic was if I’m treating her to dinner later that she should take care of lunch.”
“Hmm,” Mint pondered for a moment. “Maybe you’re right about there being something here, and maybe she feels the same way. That would explain why she doesn’t want to make it seem like she’s using you for a meal.”
“I hope so, guess I’ll find out more tonight.”
“You like her enough to give up your fuck buddy? I doubt she’d be cool with you having one.”
“Absolutely, even after just one date with her.”
“That’s crazy, you’d actually throw away what you have?”
“I mean, she’s graduating this year anyway, how many more times am I realistically going to fuck her?” you considered your options. “Girl’s a damn genius and beautiful, she’ll be fine without me.”
“You’re losing her roommate, too,” Mint added jokingly.
“Damn,” you muttered under your breath with a smirk, thinking back to some wild nights. “I kinda forgot about that part.”
“Not so easy anymore, is it?” Mint teased.
“It’s fine, seriously Mint, I haven’t felt this way about a girl since Rina,” you replied. “But it’s also way too early, I’ve known this girl for less than a day.”
“What, you haven’t started picking baby names yet?”
“First I have to work on making the babies.”
“I hope she’s good at that part, otherwise you’re throwing away an absolute dime piece for nothing,” Mint laughed.
“Or, hear me out, I just won’t make it official until next year. That way I’m still clear until Sana graduates.”
“You realize half the guys at this school would literally kill to have what you have going on, and you’re here playing games?”
“I had my fun with her, I guess I’ll be doing half the school a favor by moving on.”
“Have I ever told you that you’re an absolute fuckboy?” Mint scoffed. “Sana is not just a toy for you to use.”
“Once or twice, I think,” you chuckled. “What was the first time again? When I brought that one girl back last year?”
“Oh yeah, the one with the massive rack, right? She was so fucking fit, can’t lie, I was pretty jealous of that one.”
“Yeah,” you sighed heavily. “I still think about her to this day. She’s really the one who got away.”
“Maybe if you didn’t decide to fuck her best friend, she wouldn’t have gotten away,” Mint burst out laughing as he snatched the bag of chips back. “Absolute idiot.”
“I was drunk.”
“Not an excuse,” Mint kept laughing.
“She was drunk!”
“Even if we accept that excuse - which we don’t,” Mint began shaking his head. “How do you justify the second time?”
“We were horny,” you shrugged.
“Idiot,” Mint chuckled. “The roommate had a cute smile though, I don’t entirely blame you.”
“Yeah, what was her name again?”
“Bro, you’re the one who slept with her,” Mint shook his head in disbelief, laughing at you. “It started with an ‘N’.”
“‘N”? Shit, I really got nothing.”
“Fuckboy,” Mint sang, before gasping. “Wait, should I be concerned about your roommate fetish?”
“Yeah, lock your door when you sleep,” you said casually while cleaning up some dishes left on the coffee table. “Mind helping me? I don’t want Zuha to get the wrong idea.”
“Fuck, even her name is hot.”
“Idiot,” you tossed an empty can at him.
“I know she’s pretty and all,” Mint began helping you clean up. “But seriously? I can’t remember a single time you’ve cleaned up just for a girl. Now that I think about it, you almost never bring them back to our room.”
“Not almost never. Never, not after Rina,” you replied as you fixed the pillows on the couch. “We have any Febreze left?”
“Yeah, in my room,” Mint answered as he tidied up. “Promise me one thing though.”
“What’s up?” you asked as you walked back into the living room.
“If you’re going into this one with serious intentions, promise me you’ll take it slower this time,” Mint responded. “You know I don’t give a shit what you do with your random hookups, but this isn’t a random hookup.”
“Is this because of Rina?” you asked as you casually sprayed ‘Ocean Mist’ into the air. “I told you, I’m all good with that situation.”
“I know you are,” Mint replied. “It’s just that sometimes when you climb too high too fast, the fall ends up being a lot harder.”
“Alright Socrates, relax.”
“Seriously bro, you know I’m just looking out for you.”
“I know,” you gave Mint a tight hug. “I really appreciate you, thank you.”
“And her name was Nayeon, you idiot.”
“Oh,” you gasped, louder than intended, caught off guard by how stunning Kazuha’s figure looked in her skirt and jacket.
“I’m not overdressed am I? I know you mentioned it was a casual place, I can quickly go change if-”
“You look stunning, I love how it brings out your smile.”
“Oh, thank you,” Kazuha turned away slightly, blushing profusely.
It could not be any more obvious that she was nervous.
“Please, come in,” you opened the door wide and stepped aside, a rush of warmth flowing through your body. Kazuha gracefully stepped into your room, leaving you admiring her long, slender legs with each step. She paused ever so slightly as she walked past you before looking around your room. “Have a seat, I’ll be right there.”
Kazuha nodded before stepping across the room and taking a seat on your couch, placing her small black purse on the side table. You quickly stepped into the kitchen and placed two flutes on the counter before filling them generously with champagne and walking over to Kazuha.
“Thank you,” Kazuha respectfully accepted the glass with a warm smile.
“You’re welcome,” you replied, taking a seat next to her.
The two of you took a sip together before placing your glasses to the side. For a moment, she simply stared at you, smiling nervously. Without speaking, you slid your body closer before wrapping your arm around the back of the couch behind Kazuha’s body.
“You smell really nice,” Kazuha commented, leaning forward into you slightly.
“Do I?” you replied, tilting your head slightly.
“Yeah,” she mumbled softly right in front of your lips as she closed her eyes.
The world around you began to gracefully fade away, leaving just you and Kazuha in a shared moment of pure intimacy. Your lips met, gentle at first, a tender brush sending a spark through your body, before gradually becoming more passionate. You found yourself losing yourself in Kazuha’s warmth as your lips pressed deeper against hers.
While the kiss, slow and lingering, continued, your hand found its way to Kazuha’s thigh where it softly pressed against her soft skin. Your other hand fell from the back of the couch to the back of Kazuha’s neck. You savored each moment of closeness, that delightful hint of strawberry inundating your brain with a warm sweetness. Her hand gently made its way to yours, her delicate fingers softly intertwining with your own. The tenderness of your fingers lacing together amplified the connection - invoking a deeper sense of comfort, grounding you in the moment.
Instinctively, your bodies pulled closer, your hand slid down from Kazuha’s neck to the middle of her back, while her arm snaked underneath yours to wrap around your body. The hold you had on each other tightened while remaining tender, a subtle dance of intimacy with your bodies as your mouths stayed glued to each other’s lips.
Finally, the two of you break apart the kiss, breathing heavily into each other’s mouths. No words were shared, just an intense gaze as your eyes locked, turning the connection electric. For just a moment, the silence of your feelings was being taken in, the squeeze of Kazuha’s fingers against your body was all you felt.
Then, suddenly, she let go of your body as both of her hands grabbed your face while her lips collided against yours. Initially, you were pushed back by the sudden fierce urgency, but then with equal hunger and desperation you found your strength - now it was Kazuha’s turn to fall backwards.
The kiss was an overwhelming whirlwind of emotions, blurring your senses until you found yourself with your hands on Kazuha’s hips as her back hit the couch. She spread her legs, making room for you to move even closer as your body nestled into hers, still with electricity and passion flowing through the kiss.
With audacious intrepidity, you slipped a hand up Kazuha’s skirt, resting it against the side of her soft upper thigh. She gasped into your mouth, but she didn’t pull away - in fact, she did the opposite. She curled her fingers into your hair, pulling you even closer somehow, your bodies colliding, a testament to your shared passion, urging you to keep going.
Everything just felt right. This kiss felt right. Kazuha felt right. Your brain was desperately trying to make sense of your heart right now, and you found yourself coming to the conclusion that you wanted, needed, Kazuha. Nothing else made sense, the connection was too compelling. Then, you finally pulled away, leaving Kazuha breathless and wide-eyed, you could really feel the fire that the two of you just shared. Your heart was racing, beating out of your chest as you smiled down at Kazuha who was smiling back.
“I should have asked earlier, but you eat sushi, right?” you asked as you sat back up.
“Of course, I love sushi,” she answered, still breathing heavily.
“Perfect, you’ll love this place,” you replied, helping her sit up by taking her hand. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah, one second,” she paused, reaching for her glass of champagne and downing it. “Ready!”
“Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, who woulda thought our day would end up like this?” Kazuha smiled as she picked up another piece of otoro.
“Breakfast is a wild thing to say.”
“Oh my God,” Kazuha choked, laughing at your reference once she understood what you meant.
“Sorry, that was probably inappropriate.”
“It’s fine,” she laughed, taking a sip of her sake. “If anything, I’m surprised we’ve almost gotten through two meals without bringing it up.”
“Was I supposed to? I can’t say I’ve ever had an experience like that before,” you chuckled, taking a sip of sake as well.
“Trust me, it was new for me as well,” Kazuha replied. “I’m really enjoying spending the day with you.”
“I want to be completely honest with you, I really like you, a lot,” you started cautiously. “I know it’s super early, but I just feel something so special with you.”
“I really like you a lot, too,” Kazuha smiled warmly, showing you that smile, the one that absolutely melted your heart. “It doesn’t feel like the first day, it feels like we’ve been dating for a while already.”
“In a way, this is sort of the third date.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” she giggled before turning slightly more serious. “So then, can I be honest with you for a second?”
“Of course you can, anything at all,” you replied warmly, leaning forward slightly to show her you were fully engaged.
“I promise it’s not because of attraction, because I really am attracted to you, but I sorta regret what happened in the bathroom this morning.”
“Oh my God, me too!” you couldn’t control your excitement. “Sorry, please finish what you were going to say.”
“It’s just that… it’s going to sound a bit stupid, so please don’t make fun of me for it,” Kazuha began blushing. “I almost feel like I ruined a special moment?”
“I swear if I had a ring I’d be on my knees right now, I thought the exact same thing!”
“Really?” her eyes lit up, making her the most pure and beautiful girl in the world in your mind. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since lunch, I wish we could have found each other without the stupid punishment.”
“Look, Zuha,” you reached your hand forward and gently took hers. “It happened, but we can move on from that. I think you’re very special, I’d love nothing more than to see this out properly if you’re also willing.”
“I am,” she smiled softly, giving your hand a quick squeeze. “But if you’re asking me to be your girlfriend, I think the first day is still a bit too early.”
“Absolutely,” you agreed. “Let’s forget this morning ever happened and we can do things properly. The way we want.”
“I’d love that,” she blushed again.
“I have another one, sorta related.”
“Yeah? Shoot.”
“What do you think about being exclusive? I get it if you think it’s too early.”
She pondered the question for a moment, taking another sip and slowly putting down her glass before answering. “I don’t think it’s too early, at least, I don’t feel like it is,” she answered slowly. “I’m not actually talking to anyone else right now, but I’d be willing to make this exclusive if you are.”
“Me too.”
Kazuha hesitated, waiting for you to continue.
“It’s complicated,” you added.
“Oh, alright,” she replied, looking a bit disheartened.
“There’s this girl,” you began explaining. “We’re not in a relationship or anything, but we have a bit of a friends-with-benefits type thing going on.”
“Oh.”
“I know that’s probably not what you wanted to hear, and I’m sorry, but I really want to be honest with you, and of course I promise I’m done with that stuff now,” you replied softly. “My last serious relationship had some… I just don’t want to go through that again, I’d rather be honest with you about everything.”
“I get that, my last relationship also wasn’t great,” Kazuha frowned. “No, you’re right, thank you for telling me. If you don’t mind, do you think we can maybe keep past relationships to ourselves going forward? Sorry, but I don’t know if it’s something I want to hear-”
“You don’t have to explain, trust me, I get it,” you interjected warmly. “And I’ll say the same for you. We’ve both gone through stuff. I'm here if you need someone to talk to about it, but I don’t need to know every specific detail. The past is the past, it doesn’t affect whatever our relationship ends up being.”
“Thank you,” Kazuha smiled again, visibly relaxing as you spoke the right words. “Do you mind if I step away to the bathroom real quick?”
“Of course not, but you have to promise me you won’t pull that trick again,” you answered, flashing her a suspicious look. “I told you I’m treating you to dinner, this one’s on me.”
“Fine,” she smiled, rolling her eyes. “I promise.”
With that, Kazuha got up from the table, gracefully making her way across the restaurant. Her movements, fluid as possible, had you completely in awe, unable to take your eyes away. The way her skirt showcased her perfect legs, accentuating those meticulously sculpted curves, she had your breath catching in your throat, mesmerized and captivated by her grace.
She left this imprint on your mind, convincing you that she was something special. The honeymoon effect was hitting hard, even though you weren’t officially together, you knew it was inevitable at this point - you were going to make Kazuha your girlfriend.
“I’m getting this.”
“No you’re not,” you pushed her hand away and tapped your card against the reader.
“You got dinner, this isn’t fair,” Kazuha argued.
“And you’re pretty, what’s your point?”
Kazuha began blushing again, her fingers struggling to put her card back into her wallet. “Th-That has nothing to do with anything,” she stammered, unable to hide how flustered she would get whenever you gave her cheesy compliments.
“Sure it does,” you replied, reaching forward and taking her card from her shaking hand and inserting it into her wallet for her. “I appreciate the gesture, but really, it’s like four dollars, not a big deal.”
“Alright fine, thank you,” she replied, cheeks still flushed a light pink as she accepted her wallet back. “Have you been here before?”
“Nope, first time,” you answered as the two of you sat down. “You?”
“Yeah a couple of times, it’s really good.”
“Ah, so that’s how you picked the flavor so quickly.”
“Actually, it’s my first time trying this one,” Kazuha giggled nervously. “I kinda wanted to try something new, make a new memory with you…”
Your heart skipped a beat. “That is actually so sweet, wow,” you muttered, staring into her beautiful round eyes. “Hopefully it’s good then.”
“Or really bad.”
“Huh?”
“Think about it,” Kazuha began explaining. “Just like when you go to a restaurant, you generally remember the really good and really bad, no one remembers the average stuff.”
“Ah I see what you mean,” you responded. “That’s true, but I promise you I’m not going to forget this ice cream no matter how good, bad, or average it is.”
“And why’s that?” Kazuha chuckled, leaning back in her chair. “Don’t tell me, is it because you’re sharing it with me?”
“How’d you know?”
“You’re getting predictable,” Kazuha laughed, smiling brightly.
“And you’re so-”
“Pretty?”
“Beautiful.”
The way her face lit up when she smiled was absolutely enchanting. She didn’t know it, but she had you wrapped around her finger, you were starting to think you’d do anything for this girl. No, you already knew it, you would do anything for this girl. Your heart rate whenever she smiled was all the confirmation you needed.
“Your sundae, enjoy!” a cheery staff member dropped off the bowl of ice cream at your table. “Let me know if you need anything else!”
“Thank you,” Kazuha smiled respectfully at the young girl before turning back to you. “It looks good.”
“Then let’s find out if it’s as good as it looks.”
Kazuha picked up her spoon, scooping up some of the cookie crumbles and fudge ice cream onto it before holding it out for you. Taking her lead, you opened your mouth and let her feed you.
“Wow,” you mumbled as the taste hit your tongue. “That is seriously way better than I expected.”
“Is it?” Kazuha looked at you with glee.
“Yeah, here,” you picked up your spoon and returned the favor, feeding Kazuha the ice cream. Her eyes lit up immediately - she was so unbelievably cute. “Right?”
“You weren’t kidding, that’s amazing,” Kazuha gushed, going for another bite.
Something you noticed, and loved, about Kazuha was that she wasn’t afraid to eat. Even though she was exceptionally feminine and graceful, she wasn’t shy when it came to food. It was adorable, especially with how expressive she would be when the food was good. Within just a minute, full of spoon hitting glass, the bowl of ice cream the two of you were sharing was practically emptied.
“So, Zuha, you never actually told me, what’s your major?” you asked as you put down your spoon. “I just realized I never asked what you wanted to do after school.”
“I’d love to one day teach ballet, and my major is biology,” she answered, scooping out pieces of cookies from the bottom of the bowl before looking up at you and laughing. “You look shocked.”
“Sorry, it’s a lovely dream, I just wasn’t expecting it,” you chuckled. “So I guess the next natural question would be why the hell did you pick biology if you want to teach ballet?”
“Well, I’ve been training ballet my whole life,” Kazuha explained. “And I wanted to do something interesting and challenging on top of that, so I found myself in biochemical sciences.”
That would explain why she was so graceful, you thought to yourself. “That’s awesome, and quite admirable.”
“Thank you. It can be pretty tough managing all of that while still trying to keep some semblance of a social life.”
“You seem to be doing alright,” you replied with a smile. “Especially if you found time to go on a date with me.”
“I make time for things I want to do,” Kazuha smiled back, making your cheeks warm. “What, no cheeky response this time?”
“Sorry, sometimes it’s just so hard to focus on anything other than your smile.”
“There it is,” Kazuha laughed while rolling her eyes.
“Hey, I know it’s getting kinda late, but would you want-”
“I’d love to come over for a bit,” Kazuha cut you off, smiling brighter than ever.
“How could you possibly forget sugar?” you burst out laughing. “They’re cookies, that’s like, the most basic part.”
“That was Chaewon’s responsibility, not mine!” Kazuha defended herself. “Anyway, we tried making them without it.”
“You tried making cookies without sugar?” you laughed even harder. “I gotta know, how’d they turn out?”
“I don’t know, we ended up burning them,” Kazuha joined you in laughter. “I’ll have to make them for you some day.”
“After hearing about your baking skills, I think I’m alright,” you teased, picking up your glass of champagne and taking another sip. “I don’t think I’ll be buying your cookbook.”
“You sure?” Kazuha took a big sip before putting her own glass down. “I’ll even sign it for you,” she added, leaning closer to you.
“Depends what you sign it as,” you replied, putting your glass down as well, opening your arms for Kazuha to snuggle up with you.
“And what would you want me to sign it as?” she asked, her face right in front of yours.
“My girlfriend?”
“I thought we agreed it’s too early,” she whispered, moving her lips even closer to yours. “That one day wasn’t enough time?”
“It’s past midnight already,” you whispered into her mouth before leaning forward and closing the gap slightly.
“Have we really been talking for that long?” she whispered back, closing it some more.
And just like that, you found your lips softly brushing again Kazuha’s once more. The kiss was soft; Kazuha’s pretty eyes fluttered shut as she leaned into it, sweet and tender. The room went silent, completely still, as the air was filled with the lingering sounds of your lips colliding. A tender echo, her sweet breaths reverberating in your ears, perfectly describing the gentle and warm feeling you had coursing through your body as you kissed Kazuha. Delicate and calm, you got lost in her touch.
She brought her hands up to your cheeks, cupping your face lightly, leaning into you. Meanwhile, your hand explored her body, rubbing against her core, feeling through her top how toned she was. Your hand slowly slid lower until it was resting against the side of her thigh, slipping just a bit underneath her skirt.
Kazuha pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting yours, a hint of hesitation showing. “I’m not ready to go all the way,” she whispered softly.
“I’m in no rush,” you whispered back, pressing your lips forward again.
Her eyes shot wide open for a moment before she slowly closed them again, relief calming her down as she began gently prodding her tongue against yours. Then, to your surprise, she grabbed your wrist and gently guided it along her leg until your palm was resting against her soft ass before she brought her hand back up to the back of your neck, her fingers lightly grabbing your hair.
Following her lead, you gave her ass a gentle squeeze, making sure not to push past her boundaries. The way she kissed you, the increase in passion, was confirmation that she was okay with it. Her body was perfect, you got lost in the warmth of her skin, your fingers brushing just slightly against the fabric of her underwear by mistake.
Yet, she didn’t pull back at all. She didn’t seem to mind, at least that’s what her kiss was telling you. Kazuha was getting more and more aggressive with it, and soon enough you found yourself falling onto your back with Kazuha on top of you. Her hands which were previously squeezing your hair, returned to your face, cupping your cheeks again as her tongue pushed audaciously into your mouth.
Her passion was met with your own as you brought your other hand around her body, holding her perfectly sculpted ass in your palms. You gave her a few soft squeezes, addicted to her body, at this point your palms were placed directly on her ass, your fingers gently kneading her softness. Caution was slowly dissipating as you got more comfortable with each other’s bodies.
The moment felt like it was stretching, enveloping you in excitement, a sign of hopefully some future with the girl you were holding onto. However, even though you could have kept going all night, you could feel the natural end coming. With her cheeks flushed red, and a soft smile on her lips, Kazuha pulled back, breathing deeply above you.
“I could really get used to this,” she smiled warmly down at you.
“I’m definitely not going to stop you,” you smiled back before pulling her into your embrace, gently rubbing her back as you took in the lovely scent of her shampoo. “Zuha, it’s getting kinda late.”
“Are you kicking me out?” Kazuha giggled as she started to get off you.
Without hesitation, you pulled her back in even tighter. “Absolutely not,” you clarified, giving the top of her head a little peck. “I was just going to ask if you have class tomorrow morning.”
“I do,” Kazuha sighed heavily. “But it’s fine, I’ll skip it.”
“I can’t in good conscience be responsible for that,” you replied when Kazuha’s phone began ringing. “You going to skip that, too?”
“I probably shouldn’t,” Kazuha groaned as she leaned over towards the table, nearly falling off the couch if it wasn’t for you catching her. “Thanks,” she giggled before answering. “Hello? No, I'm not still out. No, I'm not drunk. Yes Chaewon-ah, I’m safe. Are you done? Oh my God, bye.”
“Cookie girl?” you teased as Kazuha sat up and began stretching.
“Yeah,” she yawned, arms straight up, her top riding up just enough for you to see her perfectly sculpted abs. “I had a lot of fun today,” she smiled warmly, her eyes twinkling as she let her arms fall to her side, shoulders slumped.
“I did too,” you smiled back, sitting up as well to give her another quick kiss. “Want me to walk you back to your room?”
“Actually,” Kazuha bit her lip nervously. “I kinda promised Chaewon that I wouldn’t drink tonight, I don’t really want her to know.”
“Zuha, you should have told me. We didn’t have to finish that bottle.”
“No no, I wanted to drink with you… I guess I felt safe with you,” she replied softly. “But now I have to ask, do you mind if I spend the night? I really don’t want to get scolded by her.”
“Uh, sure, but don’t you think she’ll be more concerned if you spend the night?”
“Nah, she’s going to have to get used to it anyway,” Kazuha replied casually while standing up and holding her hand out for you. “I’m going to be spending the night in my boyfriend’s room from time to time.”
“Boyfriend?” you stood up and grabbed her hand excitedly. “Does that mean…”
“Yes,” Kazuha silenced you with another kiss. “Boyfriend. Fuck timelines, I’m ready if you are.”
If only she could feel your heart pounding out of your chest. “Definitely,” you smiled back, giving her hand a squeeze.
“I’m pretty impressed that you have all this makeup remover stuff,” Kazuha commented as she walked out of your bathroom. “You have girls over often or something?”
“Umm.”
“Oh, I completely forgot about…” Kazuha’s cheeks turned bright red. “Sorry, ignore that.”
“Her name is Sana, but no,” you answered honestly, ignoring her embarrassment. “That stuff is from when I was with my ex. She was the last girl I let in my room.”
“I see, well, it’s very convenient regardless,” Kazuha replied as she looked around your room.
“You’re more than welcome to borrow whatever clothes you’d like by the way, I assume you’re not sleeping in that,” you added as you took off your shirt and pants before getting into your bed, admiring how incredibly stunning Kazuha looked even without makeup - this girl was unreal.
“It’s fine,” a shy smile formed on Kazuha’s lips before she turned around and began stripping down to her underwear as well. “You don’t mind, right?”
“By all means, whatever you’re most comfortable with.”
“I’m going to turn the lights off before I get in, alright?”
“Sure,” you replied casually while plugging your phone into your charger. “Just be careful, don’t trip on anything.”
“I will,” Kazuha responded as she shut off the lights. In the darkness, Kazuha took a second before slipping into the bed next to you, her beautiful face barely visible under the faint moonlight shining through your window. “Can I ask you another question?”
“You can always ask me a question.”
“How’d you like feeling my body earlier while we kissed?”
“Ah, what a question,” you chuckled. “Your body is fucking amazing Zuha, I can tell you work out a lot.”
“Oh yeah? How’s that?” Kazuha asked, her voice littered with allure in the most teasing way possible.
“Your abs, they’re rock solid.”
“Let’s play a little game, how about you try finding my abs in the dark?” Kazuha teased, giggling softly.
“Sounds fun,” you smirked, reaching your hand across the bed. You fumbled around for a second until your hand made contact with skin, soft skin. It took you a moment before you realized what you were holding. “Yup, that’s a titty, and you aren’t wearing a bra.”
“You’re right,” she giggled, grabbing your wrist and sliding it down until your hand was rubbing against her core. “And these are my abs.”
“Damn, they’re so nice,” you moaned softly. “We should workout together, you could train me.”
“Sure,” Kazuha whispered before sliding your wrist even lower. “And how does this feel?”
“Zuha,” you gasped as she placed your hand between her legs, and sure enough, she wasn’t wearing anything. “What happened to not being ready tonight?”
“This is different,” she whispered. “I’ve already sucked your cock in a bathroom, this is pretty harmless if you ask me.”
“Yeah, but-”
“If you’re not comfortable, I won’t be offended if you pull away.”
Yeah, there was no chance you were doing that.
“You’re sure about this?” you asked carefully as you began rubbing between her legs softly, feeling how wet she was.
“Absolutely,” she muttered, sliding closer to you.
“Then I want this to be perfect,” you whispered back, sliding your other hand under her body and wrapping it around her, placing it on her chest, giving her tit a soft squeeze. “Tell me what feels good.”
“What you’re doing now is nice,” she moaned as you rubbed slow and steady circles against her clit.
“Good,” you breathed before leaning forward and finding her lips.
As you began kissing her, you started moving your fingers a bit faster, sliding down her slit every few circles, teasing her entrance with the tip of your finger. You used her moans as your guidance, feeling for when you hit the right spots, hyperfocusing on what made Kazuha feel good. Once you began finding a rhythm, figuring her out, you started speeding up some more.
“Fuck that’s nice,” she moaned, separating her lips from yours, breathing into your mouth heavily.
With that moment of opportunity, you shoved your mouth into her neck and began kissing her collarbone. At the same time, you pinched her nipple softly with one hand and eased one finger into her pussy, just up until the first knuckle.
“Oh fuck,” she gasped, grabbing the back of your head with her hand and latching onto your hair. “Go deeper.”
And that was exactly what you did, pushing your finger deeper while using your thumb to rub her clit. You also took the opportunity to move lower down her body, leaving her neck and putting your mouth on her nipple, sucking it taut. With your mouth on one nipple and your finger lightly pinching the other, you found something was working because Kazuha’s whole body was moving up and down with her moans at this point.
Your fingers worked nonstop, gently fucking her pussy, daring to go deeper with each thrust. It was a balancing act of making her feel good and making sure you don’t go too hard, a balancing act that you were succeeding in, clearly. But you wanted more.
“Zuha,” you pulled back, looking up at her. “Can I go down on you?”
Even in the darkness, you could see her bite her lower lip nervously. “Maybe just… just fingers tonight… if that’s okay,” she mumbled quietly.
“No problem,” you whispered back before leaning forward and kissing her again.
She was hesitant for just a second before she got back into it, that burning passion returning with a vengeance. As you kissed her, you went back to slipping your finger into her soft pussy. She was warm, and incredibly wet, a soft wet squishing sound filled the room, mixed with the sound of your kiss, as you pushed your finger in and out of her.
With your tongue down her mouth and one hand gently massaging her tit, it really didn’t take much longer for you to start feeling Kazuha’s insides squeezing against your finger. In rhythmic beauty, she began moaning into your mouth, gasping and panting as her pussy pressed down hard. You slipped your finger out and began rubbing soft circles around her clit, making sure not to press too hard.
Kazuha rode her orgasm out for as long as she could, making sure to never separate her lips from yours. It wasn’t until her body finally relaxed did she stop kissing you. “I can’t believe how comfortable I feel around you,” Kazuha mumbled, rubbing wrapping her hands around your body gently. “To think, I only met you because of that stupid punishment.”
“You’re telling me,” you gave her a small squeeze. “I can’t believe how quickly things are moving.”
“Yeah,” Kazuha sighed. “I guess I set the tempo kinda fast this morning.”
“Zuha,” you paused to give her cheek a kiss. “We agreed to forget about that silliness, it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“I know, but I can’t exactly forget what I did,” Kazuha laughed softly. “Seriously I promise I’m not that type of girl.”
“Zuha-”
“Like, I know it kinda seems like it with what happened this morning and the fact that I’m literally laying in your bed naked, but I swear-”
“Zuha!” you interrupted her. “It’s fine, seriously, I wouldn’t have asked you to be my girlfriend if I didn’t really like you. So what if things are moving fast, who cares?”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Let’s just let things happen, do what feels right,” you added, playing with the muscles on her back. “Whatever feels natural, I’m here with you and committed to making this work.”
“Then how about you let me take care of you?” Kazuha giggled softly.
“What?”
“You realize I can feel everything in this position, right?”
“Alright well with how fucking hot you are, there’s not a straight man on this planet who wouldn’t be, not in this position.”
“I’m not blaming you,” Kazuha whispered, leaning back so that she was face to face with you. She slowly snaked her hand down your body, softly rubbing your shaft through your underwear. “It would be pretty cruel of me if I didn’t, not after what you just did for me.”
“I’m happy just holding you, there’s no pressure for you to do anything tonight,” you replied, your breath hitching as Kazuha slipped her delicate fingers down your waistband. “Really, Zuha, if you’re tired it’s totally fine.”
“Let’s be real with ourselves,” Kazuha leaned forward and kissed you before smiling softly at you. “Neither of us are sleeping much tonight.”
“Is that so?” you moaned as she took a gentle grip on your shaft.
“That’s right,” she whispered before pushing you onto your back. Then, inch by inch, she planted kisses down your body. She started at your neck, moving lower, kissing your chest tenderly, all the while still stroking your cock. As she moved lower down your body, she started stroking faster and faster, pausing only to yank your underwear down. “Did I ever tell you why my punishment involved sucking someone off?”
“No,” you flinched as Kazuha let a glob of her warm spit fall onto your cock.
“Because I love sucking cock,” she answered in a whisper.
Before you could respond, Kazuha engulfed your cock in her mouth, making a firm seal around your tip with her lips, prodding softly at your hole with her tongue. Then, she lowered her mouth, swallowing your whole cock in one swift motion before slowly - agonizingly slowly - pulling back up to your tip. After that, she repeated the motion a few more times, plunging down your cock and slowly withdrawing. Any degree of awkwardness from the first time had been replaced with familiarity now as Kazuha worked your cock like an expert.
“Fuck me, Zuha, that feels so fucking good,” you heaved, trying to catch your breath.
“Yeah?” she replied, her voice soft as sugar, before she leaned in and started kissing your balls.
“Yeah, the only shame is not being able to see that beautiful face.”
“Then turn the lamp on,” Kazuha cooed, tossing your blanket to the side and climbing over you, positioning herself between your legs before putting your cock back into her mouth.
As per her suggestion, you leaned over and turned on a small lamp you kept on your side table. With that, you felt your cock ready to completely erupt as you took a look at Kazuha who was staring up at you. Her eyes were so fucking beautiful. You couldn’t hold back, not with how good she looked right now with her cheeks hollowed, moving steadily up and down your shaft.
“Zuha, you’re going to make me cum,” you mumbled, straining and squirming your whole body as you desperately tried to hold back. “I can’t…”
She wasn’t phased at all, she just kept on sucking your cock at the same excruciatingly slow pace. The next who-knows-how-many seconds went by in a flash, instantly yet somehow lasting forever at the same time. She never once broke eye contact, and her mouth never once changed tempo, all that changed was how much pressure she applied with her lips, expertly varying it to make your cock feel that much better.
It wasn’t until the first burst of your cum flew into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat, did she finally stop moving. As your cum began volleying into her mouth, she held her lips tight around your cock, making sure not a single drop leaked through the smirk that formed on her face. Her eyes, those beautiful eyes, were fading into adorable little crescents as she proudly accepted all of your cum into her mouth.
“Holy fuck,” you cried out, your cock still pumping away.
Kazuha waited until the impulses slowed down, she let you slowly regain strength, but then as she felt your body relaxing, she started bobbing her head up and down your cock again as fast as she could.
“Please,” you moaned as your cock went into a frenzy, the final few shots of cum flying into Kazuha’s mouth. “Holy fuck!”
Once you were finally done, Kazuha slowly pulled back, letting a fountain of your white cum spill down your shaft as she lifted her lips off, tilting her back before swallowing everything in her mouth.
“I thought there was a lot last time,” Kazuha giggled, unable to contain her proud smile as she grinned from ear to ear. “But there’s so much more this time.”
“Zuha that was so fucking good, look,” you opened your eyes wide. “I’m literally in tears.”
“Good,” she smirked before leaning forward and using her tongue to scoop your cum off your shaft into her mouth. “I’ll do this for you whenever you want. Every night if you want.”
“I would literally die,” you inhaled sharply as her tongue grazed against your tip. “I wouldn’t be able to think about anything else all day.”
“Did you really like it that much?” she asked while licking nearing your shaft, looking for more spilled cum.
“Zuha,” you sat up and grabbed her by the arms. “Yes, I don’t know how to convince you.”
She looked deep into your eyes, her beautiful round eyes shimmering in the dim light of your room. Those beautiful features, the perfect face, sporting a soft expression as she stared at you. “I believe you,” she whispered before closing her eyes and tilting her head.
Without hesitation, you met her movement and pressed your lips firmly against hers, bringing your hands around her body and feeling her back. Her skin was so soft, you wanted to touch and feel her body forever. Unfortunately for you, the kiss did not last forever, and eventually you had to let go of her.
“I know we agreed not to talk about exes, but can I tell you something?” Zuha asked as she snuggled up in your arms.
“What’s up?”
“He’d never kiss me after I-”
Before replying, you pushed her chin up with a finger and kissed her mouth again. “Sounds like an idiot, no offense,” you replied casually. “I’ll never understand that. If I’m willing to suck on a girl’s vagina, I feel like kissing after head is really not a big deal.”
“I’ve never actually had anyone…” her voice trailed off.
“Zuha,” you let go of her and sat up, looking down at her. “Is that why you didn’t let me go down on you earlier?”
Her cheeks turned red as she avoided your gaze for a moment before she looked back up at you and nodded slowly. You bent forward and kissed her again, repeatedly, on the lips for about a minute before sitting up again.
“It’s entirely your choice, I’d never make you do something that you’re not comfortable with,” you began softly while rubbing her thigh. “But I want you to know, I’d love nothing more than to make you feel good.”
“I just can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed,” Kazuha admitted quietly. “It’s not that I’m not comfortable with you, because I am, I just don’t know…”
“I never want you to feel embarrassed around me,” you spoke softly as you moved down the bed and began slowly spreading her legs. “Do I have your permission?”
She hesitated again, as if fighting an internal battle, but then she nodded, her eyes shimmering as the early signs of dawn crept through your window.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” she whispered back, adjusting herself to get more comfortable.
“Then just relax,” you instructed her softly before pressing your lips below her navel and leaving a long, very drawn out kiss on her skin. Then, as you slid a bit lower, you paused to reach up and grab Kazuha’s hands. She took your lead, interlocking her fingers with yours and taking a deep breath. “You’re so incredibly breathtaking, just tell me what feels good,” you murmured, letting the breath of your words hit her pussy.
Your mouth began drooling at this point, overwhelmed by how enticing Kazuha’s pussy looked right now as the sun crept through the window some more, making her body glisten beautifully. It was enchanting. You pressed your lips to her pussy, holding steady as Kazuha took a deep breath, letting her get truly comfortable with your touch before giving her pussy a tender kiss.
“You alright?”
“Mhmm,” Kazuha breathed, giving your fingers a little squeeze, encouraging you to keep going.
Even that small taste of her body had you desperate for more. You wanted nothing more than to shove your face as deep into her pussy as physically possible, to suck and lick her until the sun went down again. But this was less for you, and more for Kazuha, so you took it slow.
With your mouth opened wide, you carefully pressed down on her pussy, creating a seal with your lips and her skin. She squeezed your hand again as you stuck out your tongue and pressed it flat against her folds. You began pressing down, applying pressure with various parts of your tongue, truly relishing in the slight tang of Kazuha’s pussy. She tasted so addicting despite it being so subtle.
And just like that, you were addicted and completely consumed by Kazuha’s taste. Paired with the sounds of Kazuha moaning as you applied more pressure with your tongue and lips, you were in heaven. You moved around, exploring Kazuha’s body to your heart’s desire, pausing occasionally to give her inner thighs kisses before latching back onto her pussy.
The more you feasted, the more she gave. Your lower face was completely drenched in Kazuha’s wetness as she leaked all over you. It wasn’t possible to lap it all up, despite how hard you tried, but you tried nonetheless. As her pussy, wet and warm, responded to your touch, her moans became even more vocal. She was definitely trying to stay quiet to the best of her ability, but she was failing as she got closer.
Especially now, as you could feel her body trembling slightly, each lick made her body jolt. Each kiss sent her into a frenzy. Her moans crescendoed as you sped up, sucking and licking her pussy with all of your power, and her thighs began pressing against the sides of your head and her fingers threatened to crush yours.
Then, with a particularly hefty gush of pleasure jetting out of her pussy, Kazuha began crying out in pleasure, her body convulsing in your mouth. “Oh fuck,” she sobbed, digging her nails into the back of your hands. “That feels so good.”
All you wanted to do was make her feel good - nothing brought you more pleasure. You held yourself in place between Kazuha’s legs, not that you could move even if you wanted to thanks to how hard her legs were clamping down on your face, and you gently teased her pussy with your tongue, giving it a few flicks before planting a very soft kiss on her clit, sucking on it tenderly.
“Stop, stop, stop!” Kazuha moaned, letting go of your hand and pushing your face away, detaching your mouth from her sensitive clit. “It’s too much.”
As soon as she pushed your head away, you dove back in and started kissing her thighs, switching back and forth between them. You knew her pussy was far too sensitive right now, the most you did was let your breath hit her skin, even that earned a full-body shudder. You gave her a final kiss on each thigh before crawling back up the bed next to Kazuha.
She turned to face you, and without saying a word, she lunged for your mouth, kissing you passionately and deeply - harder than ever. You let her take control, she got to guide the kiss, regulate the passion to her desires. Kazuha went on for a bit, even wrapping her leg around your body, rubbing her warmth against you until she was finally satisfied. She backed up, looking you straight in the eyes, the most precious girl you have ever seen in your life.
“That was amazing,” she muttered quietly, unable to contain her smile.
“You’re amazing,” you replied, giving her butt a small pat before glancing at your window. “The sun’s up.”
“I’m not sleepy.”
“Me neither,” you smiled back, giving her another kiss. “So, what should we do?”
“Do you have class?” she asked.
“I’ll skip it if you skip yours.”
“I’m definitely skipping,” Kazuha giggled.
“Then I guess I don’t have class.”
“Perfect,” she turned around and snuggled her body into yours.
Within just a minute of being in your arms, the ‘not sleepy’ girl passed out, pushing against your body with each deep breath she took. You gave her one last gentle kiss on the top of her head before closing your eyes, unable to wipe the smile off your face.
---
A/N:
MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS. I've been wanting to write this for so long and I finally decided to sit down and get to it. Words really cannot explain how into Kazuha I am at the moment, but hopefully this fic at least shed some light on my recent addiction over her.
I don't know what to work on next. The next Dating Seraphs chapter is going to be kinda Kazuha heavy, so I kinda don't want to post that right after this. I think this fic is the first time I've blatantly teased some of the other idols who will be appearing in Roommates, I hope that's exciting for some of you!
Maybe I'll try releasing something else around the New Years, we'll see. I'd love to hear what you guys think about this fic though, I can't rememember the last time I wrote this much straight up one-on-one fluff in a fic. There's going to be a third part to this mini series, and I promise you that one will have some sex scenes!
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jayktoralldaylong · 3 days ago
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One of my favourite things about Arcane is that all the couples can be read as toxic, which is GREAT.
I'm tired of people bringing morality debates into dark media. Let dark media be fucking dark. You guys wouldn't survive a day in the TMA fandom, needing everyone to be as good as gold. How are they going to make for enjoyable complex characters if they're not morally grey. In fact, I wish there'd been more expansion on just how morally black they can become!
"CaitVi is so toxic" According to lesbian statistics, that sounds just about accurate. 💀 Heck, I wish Caitlyn had done more (Not really, but it would have been nice to further explore the darkness in her heart). Isn't it adorable how she immediately folded as soon as Vi called her cupcake? Caitlyn's like one of those villains that will consistently do the most....until it comes to someone else hurting her girlfriend. The only one allowed to hurt her girlfriend is her. 💀
Then let's talk about Vi. Someone pointed out how Vi never cared about Zaun's independence in the first place and many people yelled that they were wrong. But actually, they were right. Vi never wanted Zaun. Zaun was Silco's dream, and Jinx inherited that dream cause Silco would never shut up about it. Vi wanted Piltover to take responsibility for all the shit they allowed to happen in the Undercity. That's a part of the reason she joined up with Caitlyn in the first place. Let's not forget she wasn't dissuaded when she dragged Jayce down to fight with her and he killed a child. Children been dying, it's been her whole life. Someone needed to do something about it, and Zaun would have just isolated the people from all the privileges that Piltover SHOULD have been providing for them. Some people just can't accept that Independence cannot in fact solve every problem, and sometimes independence is colonisers running away from the responsibility of fixing the mess that they started in the first place.
Besides, we all know Vi joined up with the Enforcers because "I feel like I am worthless if I can't be of service." She'd already run out of family members to serve, Caitlyn was the next best thing. She's just like Jayce.
And speaking of Jayce, let's talk about his violent levels of codependency with anyone who'll give him attention. People LOOOOVE to talk about Mel, but it's there with Viktor too. When bro wasn't basing his worth on his inventions, he was centering it around Viktor.
Viktor who decided at some point in his life that he would not LIVE without Jayce. He was fine dying without him, but living without him was unacceptable. Oh how healthy. 🙄😂 Viktor be the kind of toxic ex to threaten divorce 500 times over, then burn the world when you actually leave him. Jayce is no better cause he's the kind of guy to keep going back to his toxic Ex.
Yes, Mel is manipulative. That's what I love about her. How are you guys failing to give this woman the praise of being an outsider in Piltover, but running their entire council. 💀 Girl raises her hand once and the whole government starts spinning. She was the best sugar mummy Jayce and Viktor could ever ask for. She kept the whole city running. Literally the entire of Piltover dancing on her palm. And yes she manipulated Jayce but let's not forget she thought that was a love language. 💀 You wanna be mad at someone, be mad at Ambessa for raising her that way.
I also don't think it's fair to blame her for the Undercity situation, she's not native. Monkey see, monkey do, and not a single one of those Council members actually cared about the situation down there, it was deplorable. 💀 Jayce did way more in his two weeks as Councillor than any of those drug pushing, money laundering, Piltovian heads of government.
And that just covers MelJayVik, we don't even need to get fully into TimeBomb, cause we know what's wrong there. 💀 Surely we have not forgotten the many teammates Jinx has killed, but making sure to never kill Ekko cause that's her man. Ekko has a lot to unpack, like how his consistent and unwavering love for Jinx is an indication of a lot of doors he might not be ready to open. I know they dynamics go crazy and I love to see it.
Ambessa and Sevika are a crack ship but I'm sure we all know bedroom dynamics go crazy with Mrs. Warlord and Miss Liberation. I love it when characters clash in a toxic heap. It's insane and should be explored.
Quit saintifying my toxic ships with your woke morality debates. If you want everyone to be sunshine and rainbows then you should be watching literally anything else. 💀 "It's not healthy." GOOD, I like it that way. 💀 Angst, spice and trauma are the recipe for a plethora of explorative fanfiction. Any of their dynamics can be taken in any toxic direction and I want that EXPLORED.
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thedurvin · 1 day ago
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I agree with all of this and would like to add a few things
#18: if that’s not doing the trick visit a dermatologist and see about prescription stuff; turns out humans can have a variety of dermal microfauna and some people (like me) get acne that requires special topical antibiotics. But man, after getting that? Amazing! No more bullet-sized zits that last for months!
#8: if you’ve had trouble keeping plants alive maybe try water-wick pots. They store water underneath and use wicks to suck moisture up into the soil when it’s needed, so you don’t have to time your watering.
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#19: if you have soda at lunch consider brushing afterwards, and—I hate to tell you this—but you should also floss sometimes. I know it’s fucking awful but it’s less bad than what happens at the dentist when you get older if you don’t floss, trust me.
#9, sort of: glass glasses and ceramic mugs instead of plastic cups, actual dishes instead of paper or plastic plates. Don’t get melamine, it’s not microwave or dishwasher safe. Thrift em, absolutely, but somehow matching sets really do feel kinda nice.
#9 again: get some cool decor that’s not branded or merchandise. Not all of it, sure, but thrift stores and discount shops will sometimes have little statues of deities and sculptures; hell, if you look in the right places, lower-end antique stores have stuff in the $20-$30 range that makes a nice occasional treat. This is what my nightstand looks like and I love it (note the turtle’s neck being used as a bracelet holder)
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Finally this doesn’t really fit in with any of the above points but epsom salt baths are really nice
Dudes shouldn't have to prove themselves by having spartan greyscale homes with dollar store rubber shower curtains and a mattress on the floor. Do you know what life is like with linen
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ohsweetmiko · 3 days ago
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daisuke headcannons
daisuke [mouthwashing] headcannons!
happy holidays everyone! hope this brings you some joy during this holiday season. remember you are loved, and that people look forward to you. <3
warnings: implied fem! reader contains sfw, as well as nsfw. please read with caution!
loves and reblogs appreciated ❤️
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SFW
· even if you guys are only just friends, he is always the first one to say good morning to you.
· wants to be the first one to put a smile on your face, especially on your bad days.
· hates sharing food, will swat away any hand that even comes close to him. however, only for you he will let his guard down.
· is obsessed with matching jewelry, especially necklaces, earrings and rings. letting you switch out his earrings is a must.
· loves being the little spoon. he just wants to ramble about his day as you hold him close to your chest. it’s always the best part of his day, aside from seeing you!
· pet names would include: love, baby, ma, sweetie, sweetheart, sugar, sweetener, mommy
· is obsessed with your scent. would openly just take a whiff, which would make you giggle. whatever shampoo you use—he needs to know. he’d randomly ask you during a cuddle session “how do you smell so good?”
· is an absolute gentleman. we all know this. will always hold the door for you and pull out your chair with a smile.
· loves watching you as you do something your passionate about. he loves to see you happy and smiling.
· he never really gives effort into his looks, but when you guys go out—thrown out the window. he’s panicking like crazy hoping he’s not underdressed.
· lives for when you play with his hair, especially while cuddling. he loves how relaxing it is for both you and him, as you trail your hand through his brown locs. loves when you pull it too
NSFW
· like i said, is obsessed with your scent. it turns him on so bad—even when you don’t even mean to. you guys could just be cuddling and suddenly he gets all hot and bothered muttering “..you smell nice.”
· mommy kink definitely. should’ve been expected as he has some bad mommy issues. one day you guys were fucking and it must’ve just slipped out. he was so relieved when you said it was fine and that it actually turned you on—is now his #1 pet name when making love.
· poor baby, please praise him. he loves hearing that he’s pleasuring you and that it feels good. it makes him so happy when you whisper how well he’s doing and how proud of him you are.
· hear me out—switch, but leaning bottom, a lot. i feel he’d be the best soft dom if you just need to relax and want him to take control that day. however most of the time your topping from the bottom, haha.
· very vocal in bed. he’s loud in and out of bed! huge, and i mean huge whiner. loves to whimper, as well as to be muffled by you. loves to be muffled by your pussy and chest.
· i think all mouthwashing writers agree he’s the aftercare king. like he’ll prepare a warm, soothing bath for you both and give you a nice massage after. of course it ends with a relaxing cuddle session, as well !
· loves your chest. sucking, squeezing, licking, anything as long as he’s touching your chest. loves putting hickies, definitely some of the deepest ones here.
· loves marking you. it messes him up so bad. he just loves showing everyone he’s yours and you’re his. also wants you to look in the mirror and remember he loves you. loves when you exchange the favor as well,
· makes him so flustered when anyone points out ones he thought he hid, or ones on his partner and they put the pieces together and find out what happened last night. (especially if you guys keeps your relationship low profile.)
· overall, this man is a walking green flag. i literally love him so much he’s my baby 🥹❤️
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cheyisagirlkisser · 2 days ago
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nsfw. ellie fingers you on patrol to help with your cramps. 1.4k words.
Never in your three years of residency in Jackson would you ever predict this–Ellie’s fingers deep inside of you, stroking the soft, sweet spot swollen by your own arousal. You would never have been able to predict actually crying out for her touch, hips bucking up to meet her palm like it was nothing. It was truly everything, because this was never supposed to happen.
You and Ellie had a strong distaste for each other from the start.
You liked to go to parties and drink, be reckless during patrols, and (at least attempt to) sleep with anyone who you thought was even slightly fuckable. Ellie was a wallflower, so maybe her distaste for you was plain jealousy. For you, your dislike for Ellie was much more than just something solvable with a little chat.You really resented her, and maybe it was because she actually made you feel things.
It was just another patrol like the rest, Ellie being quiet around you, and you refusing to make your usual conversation. Ellie was the only person you didn’t chat up a storm with when it came to these long patrol shifts, this one even lasting two days and requiring a camp set-up. If the two of you had really thought it through, you would’ve been more careful. Two people who have that obvious and yet annoyingly oblivious tension? It should’ve been predictable.
It started with the growing of blood in your underwear. The perfect time to be on your period, huh? You only let out a little huff to which Ellie ignored, setting off into the forest to put on a pad. When you returned, it was like fate that hit you, much like a lightning strike. Literally a strike of pain in your lower stomach signifying cramps to come, and on the one patrol you before to bring a bottle of Ibuprofen on.
You laid in your sleeping bag in pain, not wanting to even complain to Ellie, as much as you were the whining type. It’d be real nice to have someone to listen to you express how badly this cycle was, how your body was doing you dirty. You weren’t expecting Ellie to speak to you first.
“You okay over there?” not the usual irritated tone she liked to use with you, but not the most empathetic. Just slightly softer, but that was a mercy due to the strain in your relationship.
“Cramps.”
“Just take an ibuprofen and lay on your side.”
“Gee, thanks. I would’ve never thought to do that,” you bit, making Ellie glare. “I don’t have anything on me. I forgot I was close to my period.”
“Damn,” a not so sympathetic, and possibly indifferent curse from her.
“Yeah, damn is right. I feel like I’m being stabbed in my uterus repeatedly.” 
Silence went on for a few more minutes, but it was visually obvious that you were in a lot of pain. Despite her dislike for you, she didn’t like seeing you suffer. There was a small flutter of empathy deep inside her that made her suggest something she probably shouldn’t have.
“Physical stuff can help cramps, you know.” Quiet, and yet the implication was clear.
“You mean like..sex?”
“Don’t think of it as actual sex, obviously. Just me helping you.”
“If we do this, we aren’t having sex. I’m not moaning for you or telling you how much I want you, so don’t expect that shit. You’re simply giving me an orgasm, and then it’s done.”
“Agreed. No kissing, and as soon as you..finish, we stop.”
And it started just like that, as sexual act of non-sex.
Ellie didn’t warm you up with neck kisses or sloppy love bites like your usual partners did, and partially, you were glad. This was just supposed to be an orgasm, and you didn’t need to like each other to appreciate a good orgasm, right? A simple pain reliever. Anytime your brain would bleed with thoughts of Ellie doing those things for you, however, you’d block them out as soon as they entered into your mind. The imagery was more difficult to get out of your head, though. Just simply picturing her plush lips trailing over your neck, breath ghosting over…
You snapped out of it, and just focused on trying to cum so that this would end, and you and Ellie could go back to hating each other.
One finger slipped inside of you, and you bit back a gasp. You were wet enough to take it without much at all, and you hoped Ellie just assumed that was just because of your period and not actually because you were turned on.
Ellie started out slow, just rubbing your g-spot with her finger, providing some direct stimulation. It made you realize how different the act of sex itself was from sex with all of the other stuff. The teasing, how your typical couple would build up the moment to make it the best possible experience. That wasn’t what this was, though. So, why were you biting your lip to stifle moans when Ellie slipped in another finger into your increasingly wet hole, and even padded over your clit with her thumb?
Your head was spinning, and you were starting to lose your focus on just having that orgasm, the aid to your cramping. You were already too distracted to think about the pain, too focused on trying your hardest to pretend like Ellie’s calloused fingers curling into your pussy wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve felt in a while. 
Ellie didn’t complain when you instinctively bucked your hips up into her touch, and she had to try really hard not to lean down and kiss you when the occasional moan slipped past your lips. She couldn’t blame you, it was a natural reaction.
So, why was it that you were now begging for more when she curled right up into your sweet, tender spot?
“Ellie,” you breathed out, eyes fluttering open to meet hers. The scrunch of her nose that was usually present when you were around faded away, and her eyes were lidded, her lips parted slightly. A delicious, rosy tint set across her freckled face.
“Is it helping?”
“Please. Please, fuck me..just like that, I need it,” you begged, making her stomach do summersaults. It couldn’t be helped, though. Ellie took note that you shed off a little bit of your dignity when she slid her fingers slightly out and shoved them back into your hole, just to slam into your g-spot. She liked the way you sounded, the way your usual walls built around her crumbled when she fucked you good. Even though she didn’t (or at least tried not to) care to observe you enough, she noticed that you were different when at parties dancing with random people, more inauthentic. Something was ironically beautiful about the rawness to your voice that hit hard when she did something particularly mind-blowing to your pussy.
A mix of blood and your juices were dripping down her knuckles, and she really wanted to taste you. It would probably be something she would regret later, but Ellie decided to sate herself with a soft kiss to your lips instead. She felt warm and tasted like the rations from earlier, but you kissed her back fervently. The needy sounds coming from your throat were swallowed by her own mouth.
The orgasm that hit you was mind-blowing enough to aid with the cramps, but that wasn’t what you were focused on. Instead, it was the way Ellie’s tongue coaxed your lips apart, and the scent of her hair against your nose when she buried her face into your neck to taste your pulse. You felt every tremor run through you like lightning, and it was unlike anything anyone else could give you. It wasn’t forced, and the passion there was real. You actually felt something with her. 
As you came down however, the moment dissolved into awkward silence and the careful removal of Ellie’s fingers from you. You swallowed, holding back your words. You wished to forget it all now, not because you wanted to deny it ever happened, but you were scared of what it meant if you got attached to someone in Jackson.
Just like that, it was over, and you and Ellie didn’t go quite back into disliking each other dynamic but rather an awkward limbo. You left that patrol and spent the next few weeks sleeping with people, pulling all-nighters trying to make yourself feel what you did on that patrol, but you never could find the same peak in every single category of feelings that Ellie gave you.
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multipleoccupancy · 1 day ago
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He sensed their topic was helping her too and so Theo was comfortable in staying with it for the time being. Not realising the path he was sending Samantha down as she started to express her thoughts. She started talking about how she had been recruited and Theo paused to watch her, silent and still, worried that a single movement or too loud a breath might startle her from speaking. She never mentioned it and he later learned that it was not something that should be asked or really revealed to others.
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Her story sounded harrowing though! She was almost sacrificed to hybrids? He might have never known her, she could had died and he'd have been none the wiser. He caught that disguised sob, he knew her too well now and stopped what he was doing with the net to cross the space between them and pull Samantha into a tight and protective hug.
"I'm sorry that happened to you, but I am so glad you made it out of there." He was sure to say very clearly but there was a short and quiet rasp to his voice as he was sure to hold back his tears and his horror. "We can help this guy, we'll do all we can. It's going to be ok and we'll make sure this never happens to anyone else again." He promised, or at least thought he could without the sense to remember that there was a big wide world out there with cultists lurking and waiting.
Unaware he was doing very little to settle Violet's nerves around his counterpart, Sloane kept up the act comfortably, smiling politely to the man as Violet thanked him too and then to her, still so tired and polite as she gave her own response. Oh she was very good! He'd have to tell her when they got out of ear shot!
The man returned with the key to the dorm and Sloane's ID card. "Here you go Professor Parry, Miss Parry," he said as kindly as he could, clearly trying to do his best to seem professional in the moment. In truth, Sloane thought they now had the perfect set up for him to leave unannounced in a few days, of course he would have to look after dear cold and tired little Astrid.
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"Ah! Thank you," Sloane was quick to say but he took the key and card calm and polite, "You hold onto the key for me?" He offered to Violet, holding out the little door key for her to take. "Don't lose it now, be sure to hold on tight to it," he encouraged as perhaps a tired father might, not quite able to see his daughter as fifteen yet, still young and in need of encouragement. "I'll just put this back in here," he explained as he pretended to fumble around with his wallet again to put the card back in, seemingly getting frustrated and jamming it in half way before closing the wallet again.
"You've been our saviour tonight," Sloane praised the man, putting his hand back on Violet's shoulder. "I'll be sure to tell Stacey how helpful you've been, I can't thank you enough." He even let a little bit of tears flood his eyelashes without actually letting them fall. "What a nice man," he told Violet with a small smile, "let's get you set up in the room and settled in, we can take the sleeping bag from my car, it'll be like when we used to go camping, just without the mosquitoes," He gave a tired laugh and started to head back towards the door to leave. Thrilled with their performance.
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𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy
Focusing on a possible solution helped Samantha, too. It kept her mind away from the plan, from her being bait. "Yes, you're right. It was probably a ritual or something of the sort. Maybe we can force him to do the reverse ritual if there's one." Oh, right. Violet had seen a woman turned into a monster. "Maybe he's hiding a monster somewhere, yes. Or maybe he's using some monster poison? Injecting it in the student's veins?"
She paused, her fingers resting on the rope. "I don't know if it works the same way, but... I saw things. Similar things. It's how I got recruited. I don't talk about it because..." Samantha looked down at the net. "It was horrible. Someone died." Her lip quivered. "It was a fertility clinic. They were making... hybrids? I don't really know. Half-monsters, half-babies. I worked there as an intern, and I had no idea this was happening. I thought it was a normal clinic. But one day, they tried to sacrifice me and another intern. They wanted to feed us to the monsters. I managed to escape, but..." The other intern was not so lucky. "I couldn't save him."
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Samantha disguised a sob behind an awkward cough. "There was no turning them back, these creatures. They had never been fully human in the first place, anyway."
Violet was really very impressed by Sloane, how easily he played his part. But it was a little bit scary, too. Like with the flick of a switch, he had turned into a single dad, worried about his daughter. No wonder she always got tricked by the Sloane she knew. He didn't just disguise himself, he transformed himself.
"Thanks, Dad," she whispered just as low when he offered her his lunchbox. He was expertly making their situation seem even more heartbreaking to the man behind the desk. And it worked, too, because here he was, offering them a room -the room Sloane told her would be ideal.
This little charade reminded her of how much she missed her dad and her home in New York. When her eyes got just a little bit shinier, she wasn't playing. She did feel like crying.
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"Thank you so much, sir," she was sure to say with a grateful smile. And when he disappeared into the office and Sloane suggested they get McDonald's the next day, she followed his example and continued with her own part -the tired daughter. "Really? I'd like that a lot," she replied, careful not to sound too excited -this was supposed to be a consolation prize after all.
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usagiarchive · 2 days ago
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what is love? — jing yuan x reader (in the eyes of yanqing)
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"Ooh, maybe someday, could it happen to me too? When will it be? Who will it be? I wanna know, know, know, know, what is love?" — TWICE
sypnosis. [ 0.4k words. fluff. family. ] — When asked on the question of love, Yanqing thinks of his parents.
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“Mama, what is love?”
You turn your attention to the little boy snuggled into your side as you read him a Xianzhou fairytale.
“What do you think love is, honey?”
The kid pondered for a moment before answering, “You and Dad are love!”
The joy he displayed on his face melted your heart and you couldn't help but bundle him up in your arms.
“Really? How so?”
“Don't you and Dad love each other? Isn't that love?”
You smiled and laughed a little, “That's an action, sweetheart, we love each other, it's not really a meaning, sweet boy,”
He tilted his head at you like a seal, very confused.
“The meaning of love and being in love are two different things, honey,” you tell him, not knowing how to approach the subject of love with a four-year old child.
“Think of it this way, let's think of love as your swords, Swords and using your swords are two different things, right?”
The child blinks up at you, “Mama, I understand… but at the same time I don't…”
You laughed and gave him a kiss on his forehead, “I'll explain when you're older, but for now… bedtime!”
Yanqing doesn't remember the interaction now that he's grown older, but if he thinks about what love is for him, you'd find his answer the same.
Love for him, was you and his Dad.
In the way that you learned to love tea as he did, even if you didn't like it at all, detested it at first, all because he loves it and you love him.
In the way his Dad never let you do anything when he's around, during grocery runs he'd lift all the bags and just let you hold his hand, during your weekend dates, he'd never let you worry about anything.
In the way you'd immediately get a pillow and a blanket if you find him sleeping in the patio (and most of the time join him), because he always complains about the crick in his neck he always has when he wakes up.
In the way he'd never seen the two of you have a serious fight, not in front of him at least, or not long enough that he'd notice because the two of you resolved anything within minutes of talking.
In the way his Dad would always peel an orange for you to share, “A half for your Mom, a half for me”, even if you'd go for a second orange, half of it will always be the other’s.
So yeah, if ever you'd ask Yanqing what love is. His answer would be you and Dad.
And maybe… he thinks as he pictures a certain spitfire girl that burrowed her way into his heart, maybe he can find a love like that, too…
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usagi's note: december has been so incredibly kind to me (aside from me breaking my foot and not getting sunday) it's actually been so nice, ive met more people in this app and people here are so supportive and nice! i think ill enjoy this more hehe, merry christmas guys :))
also guys how do you do the tiny text thing? im so interested and i kinda wanna try that type of format in my works.
@usagiarchive 2024. do not repost, translate, or use for AI.
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themultifanshipper · 2 days ago
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Can you write a fluffy carcar fic where imagine carlos trying to get oscar into golf? I saw oscar say somewhere that golf is frustrating- but carlos tells him "it's not frustrating, it's about patience" or something like that
He went to the golf course bc lando actually invited him after the wcc and all, and since lando was really insistent and he had time to kill, and he was like sure one afternoon won't hurt. So he goes, there by genuine accident they bump into carlos, and lando didn't think carlos was even back home so he was just as surprised to see him and then carlos ofc joins them but then lando has to leave (how convenient) so oscars suddenly all awkward
BUT THEN CARLOS IS LIKE ITS OK ILL TEACH YOU, ILL MAKE YOU LIKE GOLF
And suddenly oscars all flustered and both of them in their heads are all like "this is nice, omg this is really nice, why is this so nice!?"
Or something along those lines??
Oscar’s mind was going at a million miles an hour.
How he got into this predicament, with Carlos' strong arms wrapped around him while he shivered from the contact, was a mystery.
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Warnings: smut, ass eating, inappropriate use of golfing equipment, public sex, kinda wild, i'll be honest there is not much fluff, asking me for fluff is like asking Fernando to retire, it ain't happening.
Lando. This was all Lando's fault.
He'd suggested going out for golf, which he knew Oscar wasn't particularly fond of.
And he was the one that had lost track of time and forgotten that he had a meeting to go to.
He'd also been the one to suggest Carlos join them, after running into the Spaniard by accident.
“It’s december!” he’d said. “We'll be the only ones on the golf course! It'll be fun!” he said. Well that was a fucking lie.
It may not have been high golfing season or whatever, but they ran into two people Lando knew from around Monaco, and Carlos.
The entire situation felt like the setup for a joke, and Oscar felt like he was the absolute butt of it.
Celebrating the WCC? Great idea. Golfing with Lando? Fine, why not. Golfing with Carlos? Not something he wanted to be doing in a million years.
He didn't not like Carlos, but every interaction they'd ever had could be summarised with two words: forced proximity.
Either they came together on track, or they were forced to interact by their mutual friends, namely Lando.
So he wasn't exactly fond of the man, but he tolerated him enough to be civil. And the less time he spent talking to him, the more time he had to check him out from afar.
Bexause he was hot as fuck, Oscar couldn't deny that. He'd caught himself checking his fellow drivers out on multiple occasions, but there were no cameras around now, so he could let his gaze wander a bit more freely.
As soon as Carlos agreed to go along with them, he knew this was going to be a long afternoon.
Golf just wasn't his thing. He’d tried. He'd really tried, he would do anything to please Lando.
But he thought it was a sport for pompous rich pricks who had absolutely nothing better to do with their time and money. He'd never had lessons, and Lando wasn't exactly a great teacher, so his form was shit, and to make matters worse, Lando and Carlos made fun of him for it.
Well excuse him for not growing up fucking rich!
“This is a shit sport!” he raged after missing yet another swing. “I just don’t get why you like it, it's so frustrating!”
Lando was too busy wheezing to reply.
“It is not frustrating, it is about patience. Observe”  Carlos put a ball on his tee, and positioned himself as if he was going to swing.
“You need to shift your weight as you swing, and don't aim for the ball, aim a few inches after the ball. And don't forget the position of your arms, the left one is straight while the right one is at a right angle, otherwise your aim will be all over the place…”
Carlos showed him the movement as he explained it, but Oscar had stopped listening entirely.
His eyes had zoned in on Carlos' arms. He knew the guy was fit, they were athletes after all, but he was absolutely astounded by how fucking enormous Carlos’ biceps were.
They were glistening with sweat under the sunlight as he flexed them. Then his eyes went to Carlos' pecs, which were also flexing, and looked like they were about to pop out of his polo shirt.
He was brought out of his reverie by Lando cursing loudly next to him.
“Shit! Guys I have to run, I completely forgot I have a meeting with my publicist in fifteen minutes!”
He left his stuff with them and sprinted away, promising to be back soon (they both knew he wouldn't, and one of them would inevitably have to drop his stuff off at his apartment).
Oscar was relieved, he could finally be out of this hell hole.
But as he picked up his bag of rented clubs to make his way back to the golf cart, Carlos put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
“Oh no, Cabrón. We are not done here. I am going to make you a professional if it is the last thing I do.”
Carlos teaching him golf sounded like the last thing he wanted to do, and the older man was smirking infuriatingly, as if torturing Oscar into liking golf was the most fun he could have.
But a part of Oscar was curious. Maybe he could have some fun of his own. He knew Carlos wasn't a particularly patient man. Maybe he could rile Carlos up enough for him to give up.
Making an F1 driver give up on anything was a hard feat, but Oscar liked a challenge.
It was a bit awkward at first, Carlos made him get into position, which he did very wrong on purpose, to try and frustrate Carlos.
But the man didn't even sigh, he just started explaining all about how the handle had to be pointing at his belly button, and his knees needed to be bent, and he needed to twist his shoulders while lifting the club while still looking at the ball, and then he had to-
Oscar had stopped listening again.
While explaining each action, Carlos' hands were moving Oscar's body around like a puppet.
His skin burned wherever Carlos' hands made contact.
And after a while it started getting to him. Carlos' touches were getting rougher, like he was getting sick of explaining and repositioning him over and over again.
But instead of chanting victory, Oscar's brain was slowly frying at the harsh grip Carlos had on his flesh.
They were both sweating in the sun, and Carlos was damp.
He was plastered to Oscar's back, his arms around Oscar's arms, hands gripping the handle over Oscar's hands as he tried his best to explain… whatever it is he was trying to explain.
Oscar’s brain was on one thing only: the hard planes of Carlos' body pressed against his.
The Spaniards breath smelled like the minty gum he'd been chewing earlier, and his mouth was so close to Oscar's cheek he could feel the heat of his breath as he spoke.
He was sweating, and not just from the sun, his body was on fire, and he could feel his blood rushing down from his brain to his nether regions.
Carlos hadn't noticed at first, fully absorbed in his long winded explanation of the subtleties of hip movements to emphasize striking power.
But when he grabbed Oscar's stiff hips to twist and move them the correct way, the younger man gasped out the tiniest of whimpers.
That made Carlos freeze. “Are you okay?”
His hands hadn't moved from Oscar's waist though, and that fact was making his head spin.
Carlos’ eyes followed the movement of Oscar's Adam’s apple as he swallowed before nodding shyly.
The flush creeping up the younger man's neck was enough for Carlos to understand what was happening.
He gave his hips another squeeze. “Oscar…”
The Aussie let out a shaky breath, the way Carlos whispered his name made him close his eyes in embarrassment.
“Yes?” his voice cracked and he closed his eyes, waiting for Carlos to yell at him for being inappropriate, or uninterested in golf, or gay… or something.
But the yelling never came, instead Carlos chuckled darkly and squeezed the flesh of his hips.
“Is my lesson making you too horny to think properly? Pathetic… And ironic given how you seem to be the one trying to distract me with these shorts” he spat, pulling at the hem of the offending shorts, which would be considered indecent to anyone who wasn't Oscar.
But Oscar had a habit of not realising how he looked, and today Carlos was having trouble not ogling his body.
Carlos’ hand barely brushed his bulge, and Oscar whimpered again, looking down to see just how tented his shorts were.
He had no idea he felt this way about Carlos, but here he was, hard as a rock and secretly wishing that Carlos would touch him more.
“Maybe I need to teach you some discipline before you can learn to play properly…”
Carlos nosed at the back of his sweaty neck, pulling his hips back against his own.
Oscar gasped when he felt the hard press of Carlos' cock through his shorts.
“Do not worry, I can teach you everything you need to know” he growled into Oscar's skin, hand sliding around to cup Oscar over his shorts.
That's how Oscar ended up pressed against the front of the golf cart, leaning on his elbows, and doing his best to stay quiet as Carlos ripped his shorts down his legs.
“If I didn't know any better, I would think you were hoping this would happen, given how slutty these shorts are.”
Oscar wanted to protest. They were practical! It was 25 degrees out and excuse him for not wanting to wear fucking chinos to golf.
“They're not sl-” he tried to argue but Carlos landed a harsh spank to the back of his thigh.
He yelped but Carlos scolded him.
“First lesson, no arguing with the teacher.”
He hooked his fingers in the waistband of Oscar's boxers and peeled them off, groaning at the plumpness of the flesh in front of him.
“My god, it's a miracle your ass fits in those shorts at all…” Oscar blushed at the compliment, he knew what his body looked like, he knew he was gifted in that department, but Carlos praising him was turning his brain to mush.
He let out a surprised half-moan half-whine when Carlos spread his cheeks and spat, right on his twitching hole.
The act was so dirty, they were out in the open but Oscar no longer cared, he needed more.
He could feel the cool material of Carlos' leather glove against his overheated skin.
Carlos rubbed the pad of his thumb over Oscar's slick rim, making him keen.
“Lesson two: you have to be quiet or we are going to get caught. Do you want this to be our last lesson?”
Oscar was trembling with need, and his legs were seconds away from giving out if Carlos didn't get on with it soon.
“No! Please…” he whined pathetically and Carlos laughed.
He crouched behind down, spreading Oscar open.
“Then keep your mouth shut”
He licked a stripe from his balls up to his crack, and it took everything Oscar had in him not to moan.
“Good boy” Carlos praised, and dove in, licking and prodding at his tight rim.
Oscar could feel the strong wet muscle opening him up, it was obscene.
He bit his hand to avoid making a noise , he didn't really care about being kicked off the course, but he would rather avoid getting caught, with Carlos of all people. He'd never hear the end of it.
The repetitive feeling of Carlos' tongue breaching him had him gasping into his hand.
He pushed his hips back, his back arching as he fucked himself on Carlos' tongue, and the older man moaned at how quickly Oscar's body was betraying his need to be fucked.
He pulled away to suck a couple of fingers into his mouth, wetting them thoroughly before pressing them into Oscar's slick hole.
Oscar was on fire. Carlos was using his gloved fingers to open him up, and the slick leather sliding into him made him want to rip his own hair out.
Carlos stood up and put a hand on Oscar's lower back to make him arch more, which he did gladly.
Carlos was surprised at how needy Oscar was under him, writhing and gasping every time his fingers brushed his prostate.
Suddenly he had an idea on how to keep Oscar's mouth occupied.
He reached into his pocket, where he had one of those extra large golf balls used for training, and tapped it against Oscar's lower lip.
“Open up, Oscar. You can suck on this to stop yourself making too much noise” and Oscar opened his mouth immediately and stuck out his tongue, taking the ball in his mouth almost too eagerly.
He was submitting beautifully, and Carlos had to unbutton his pants and pull them down, just to take some pressure off his now aching cock.
Once he deemed Oscar ready, he spit on his hand, slicking himself up and pushed in slowly.
Oscar couldn’t hold it in anymore, despite the ball gag, he moaned loud.
“Shit” Carlos hissed, slapping a hand over Oscar's mouth. “You need to be quiet”
Oscar was unable to respond, he was too busy drooling over how well Carlos' cock was stretching him out.
So Carlos took the ball out, accidentally shifting his hips which made Oscar’s eyes roll back and he let out a high pitched squeak.
Carlos then took his glove off, baled it up and shoved it into Oscar's mouth.
He then thrust into him hard enough to make him moan loudly again, and was satisfied when the glove successfully muffled the noise.
Or at least enough so that they couldn't be heard within a few hundred feet.
He kicked Oscars feet apart to spread him further, and slammed into him again.
Oscar was sure he could feel Carlos all the way up to his fucking throat with how deep he was inside him.
The sound of Carlos' hips slapping against Oscar's plump flesh made the two men wild as their bodies made contact over and over again, pushing and pulling against each other.
Oscar was doing his best to push back against the onslaught of Carlos' savage thrusts, but his body was slowly giving up on him.
His knees buckled, and Carlos wrapped his arms around him, pushing him harder against the now searing metal of the front of the cart.
He reached a hand down to wrap around Oscar's leaking cock, squeezing rythmically with each thrust and Oscar was a goner, he came with a muffled wail, painting Carlos' hand white, along with the front of the cart.
Carlos followed quickly after, hips stuttering as he filled the younger driver up, biting his lip to muffle his deep groan.
After a few seconds of trying to regain his sanity, he pulled his glove out of Oscars mouth and pulled his softening cock out of him.
Oscar sighed, leaning his head against the surface with his eyes closed in bliss.
He didn't register Carlos moving around until he felt him lick up the cum that was seeping out of his used hole.
He jolted, gasping as Carlos cleaned him up, lapping up his own cum and overstimulating Oscar to the point where he started wriggling and the Spaniard had to hold him in place.
The lewd slurping sounds were almost humiliating, and he was suddenly acutely aware of how exposed he was.
But that just served to turn him on again, and if Carlos had carried on for much longer, he would have definitely been up for another round.
Thankfully though, he soon deemed Oscar cleaned up of his cum, and helped him pull his underwear and those goddamn shorts back up.
He turned Oscar around and grabbed the back of his neck to press their lips together in a kiss that very quickly turned filthy and they made out for a few minutes, until they were in desperate need of air.
As they panted into each other's mouths, Carlos grinned.
“Rule number three: one lesson is never enough”
Needless to say, Oscar got a membership at that club. And he met up with Carlos every week for lessons, which they did not invite Lando to.
 Lando found that a bit strange, but he wasn't going to complain, he was just happy his two friends were finally getting along.
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supermenz · 1 day ago
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one
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summary: One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do; two can be as bad as one, it's the loneliest number since the number one. Or: you're two years old when you lose your parents. Your brother, a kid himself, is unable to give you the love you deserve, and you end up at twenty being as burn out as only a Gotham University student can be. So, what do you do? Change scenery, of course.
pairing(s): clark kent x wayne!reader, bruce wayne x sister!reader, eventual platonic batfam x reader (no use of y/n)
warnings: genius kid trope, kinda doomed siblings, language, there are reference to what happens in "the batman" but there will be a merge of both comics and films, written with david!superman in mind cuz he's my pookie 😞, bruce is so pathetic i love him sm
word count: 2.2k
author's note: my first ever fanfic for the dc universe!! constructive criticism is welcomed as english is not my first language,
next | series masterlist
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Gotham has left you feeling more claustrophobic in the last few months than it did all your life. 
Maybe it’s because you’re seeing your brother slip into his work — aka beating criminals in the night as a hobby — more and more, or maybe it’s just your brain playing tricks on you. It’s probably the latter. 
You’ve never been good with emotions — it comes with being a Wayne, and surely, having your parents die before you were three didn’t help your situation. Bruce spending most of your childhood abroad with barely any contact with you also probably didn’t help either. 
“But I’m here now,” he had said once, “Am I not?”
He is, but even if you love him with all your heart, sometimes you think that you’re more like colleagues rather than siblings. Your bond is strained, with him being so closed-off and spending most of his free time cosplaying as a bat, and you having just entered your twenties, trying to get your second degree in biology after an early graduation and an even earlier PhD in engineering. And since his first big case four years ago, neither of you has been the same. 
Your relationship has never been easy. The flood and the Riddler’s case basically forced you to trauma bond over what you both had experienced, as surely no therapist would’ve wanted to hear about all the horrors that you two experienced, even for all the money in the world. Besides, it’s not like Bruce could just enter a therapist’s office and tell them that he’s the fucking Batman. 
As of now, you tend to have your… ups and downs. Both prefer to just hide behind paperwork, projects, cases or research rather than just talk some things out. Because yes, Bruce’s your brother, but that doesn’t mean he’s easy to love. There are some days where he seems to be barely able to talk to you, others where you know he just wants to scream at you for whatever reason, others where… others where you think he might just crumble at your feet and start crying. 
You don’t have a lot in common. Maybe that’s why he manages to stay in Gotham even after all that’s happened — combined with the fact that he’s spent ten years or so abroad. Maybe you need that, too. 
“I’m thinking of moving out,” you tell him during one of your rare dinners together. You have already talked about your plan to Alfred, who has shown his support towards the idea and urged you to get out of Gotham as soon as you could, but you also wanted to tell Bruce — just to be honest with him. 
Yes, he left you to study abroad all those years ago without any kind of goodbye or anything, but you have no intention of leaving him behind like he did to you — you may be grown adults now, but that doesn’t mean that being left behind doesn’t exist anymore. You doubt Bruce would ever feel left behind by you, of all people, but still. “Found a faculty in Metropolis that will be able to transfer all my credits and studies and a nice flat downtown near the Wayne Enterprises’ site there. I think I need a breath of fresh air– I need to go somewhere where the sun actually shines and not everyone has hidden agendas.”
You’ve heard good things about Metropolis, and you think that the Martha Wayne Foundation could be expanded a bit more — somewhere far from Gotham, where surely there are other orphanages, other people in need that could use some help. “I could handle Wayne Enterprise’s gestion and settle our matters there while continuing my studies in a more… calm environment.” calm is a big word for a metropolitan city as big and populated as Metropolis, but every city is calm in contrast to Gotham.  
Your brother doesn’t say anything. He just stares at you, wide-eyed, fork still raised to eat the potatoes Alfred cooked, his face blank. Is he having a heart attack? You didn’t think that you moving out would’ve been such horrendous news for him. Yes, even if you are not that close he’s still very protective, but he went to live abroad at ten. You’re twenty and you’re just… moving to Delaware. It’s not like you’re going to the fucking Himalaya mountains as he did. 
(Meanwhile, Bruce is spiraling. He wonders when the hell did his little sister grow up, how it can be that she isn’t the little girl he used to sway around anymore, and why would she ever want to move out. Is it because of him? Did something happen? 
Isn’t Metropolis in another state? Is he so tremendous that you have to move states in hopes to forget about him? Is he too overbearing? He thought he had always given you enough space to do your own thing–)
Instead of saying all of the things he’s thinking, he tries to muster up a smile, even if it comes out as a grimace. “Alright.” 
He nearly jumps out of his seat when you beam at him — is he really that obnoxious that you can’t wait to move out and have him out of your life? “Oh, I’m happy that you’re taking it well! I was afraid you’d freak out.” you get up from your seat and move over to hug him, and he chuckles nervously. “Why would I? You’re an adult, you can do what you want.” 
(What do you mean?!, his conscience screams in his head, She isn’t even twelve! Just yesterday she was talking about going to the homecoming dance with her friends–
But time has passed, and even if Bruce feels that it was particularly hard on him, he didn’t think it’d affect you too, somehow. It’s weird acknowledging something’s — someone’s — changes in the years in… so little. He had gotten so used to you being his little sister that he didn’t even think about you becoming a full on woman. He still remembers the pink bundle of blankets your parents had given him that day at the hospital, telling him to be careful with her, she’s your little sister.
When have you grown this much? Where did the time go? He swears it was just yesterday when you were admitted to Gotham University.) 
“But… a flat? Are you sure you’ll be comfortable there? It’s not exactly as big as a manor.” 
You avoid his gaze, scratching the back of your head. “Yeah, about that…”
He raises an eyebrow, “Let me guess, you bought the whole building?” 
You snap your fingers, “They don’t call you the greatest detective for nothing!” you sit back down, cutting the meat on your plate, “I plan on making the floors I won’t live in into a laboratory of sort– almost like the Batcave, y’know, so I can continue working on the models I designed undisturbed.”
When Bruce had started his crusade as Batman, you had just gotten your bachelor’s degree in engineering, and were working on your master’s degree. You had basically given him the head-start, creating the software of the Batcomputer (or of the computer, as he calls it), designed and adapted a sport’s car to the Batmobile (just call it the car, Bruce always insists) and basically modified and created every single one of the gadgets and systems he uses. 
You just hope he won’t let the Batcomputer get hacked as soon as you land in Metropolis — you spent weeks programming her and years perfecting her system. You spent so much time on her, she might as well be your firstborn by now. 
“I’ll always be a call away,” you murmur when your brother’s eyes get a little dazy, unfocused– like he’s in another world, always thinking about the worst that could happen. “You know that, right?”
Bruce blinks. “Yeah. Yeah, I– I know that.” 
(He isn't sure about that.) 
You pat his hand, mustering a smile. "Maybe you should take a break, too. Why don't you book a vacation in, let's say... the Bahamas? Just to get a bit tanned and remember what the sun actually looks like."
He shakes his head. "Can't. Batman doesn't go on vacation."
You raise an eyebrow, sighing in defeat. "Well, I'm sure the GCPD could handle Gotham for a few days, but do as you like."
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Your arrival in Metropolis is, of course, followed by an unhinged swarm of journalists and press that surround you as soon as you land.
You can already see the headlines — THE PRINCESS OF GOTHAM NOW IN METROPOLIS or some other corny predictable shit like that — as they shove their cameras in your face, screaming and trying to grab you, as your bodyguards try to contain them. You're much calmer than they are, having already endured years and years of invasive journalists.
“Miss Wayne, would you care to tell us the reason for this abrupt change in scenery?”
“Has your move got anything to do with your relationship with your brother?”
“Miss Wayne, look here! A smile for the front page–”
“Miss Wayne, why Metropolis, of all places?”
“Miss Wayne, a word for the Daily Planet?”
The guy for the Daily Planet catches your attention– he seems far too nice and isn’t elbowing anyone; he must be either new at the job or is too nice for it. He’s got a mop of curly, black hair atop his head, thick glasses perched on his nose, baby blue eyes behind them. His posture is a little crooked — he’s getting squeezed by reporters on both of his sides — but, even as disheveled as he is, you notice a thing. 
Ohh, he’s pretty. Like, jaw-dropping pretty, the kind of pretty that makes you want to bite his cheek and never let go for the rest of your life. 
You stop in your tracks, lifting your sunglasses to your head, bodyguards panicking at the swarm of journalists that suddenly all point to one direction; you reach for the pocket of your jeans and take out a business card that you pat on the pretty reporter’s chest. “Another time, pretty boy,” you promise as he takes the card, his fingers brushing yours, the other journalists speechless around you. “I’m kinda busy right now.” 
You don’t stay long enough to see him blush and hold the business card tight in his palm so that the other reporters don’t snatch it out of his grip — the bodyguards urge you forward, towards the SUV with obscured windows that is waiting for you right in front of the arrivals’ exit of the airport. One of them opens the door for you, and you don’t hesitate to get inside, the car speeding off as soon as everyone’s inside. 
“Never seen anything like this,” one of the men mutters.
You shrug, “I’ve had worse.” 
The ride to your building is short, mostly because it’s late in the evening and there aren’t many people still around. You leave a generous tip to both the bodyguards and the driver, thanking them but assuring them that you can walk alone the thirty steps that separate you from the entrance to what’ll be your home for the foreseeable future. They help you take out your trolley and duffle bag, which you swing over your shoulder right after taking the keys of the building out. 
You open the front door, carefully closing it behind you, taking the elevator right in front of it. You press the number thirty out of thirty-four, which turns green with a ding, and wait for the doors to open back up. And once they do, you’re not disappointed. 
The loft is arranged just like how you asked the movers to — it would’ve been hard not to, as you sent them the 3D interior design plan you had made, but still. You’ve been raised with the idea that if you want something done well, you have to do it yourself, so you’re pretty happy about how it turned out. 
Still, something’s missing. 
You check around the loft for any pieces of missing furniture or something like that, not finding anything. You even go back to the 3D model to make sure that everything got here safe and sound, only to find that yes, everything is in the colour you ordered and exactly in the place you asked for it to be. 
You sit on the U-shaped couch that sits right in front of the giant windows that let on the skyline of Metropolis, eyebrows knit in deep thought. The house is nice — for fuck’s sake, you bought a whole building just for you and your projects — but it’s weird not having anyone else around. There’s no Alfred to welcome you, no half-asleep Bruce roaming without an idea of where he is, no squeaking and creaking of the floor when you walk. 
You sigh. “Maybe I should get a cat.” 
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cipheramnesia · 9 hours ago
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I want to be eaten by worms and grubs instead of fungus. If I'm consumed by fungus it will probably be mold, and might not have the palate to appreciate my corpse.
Mycology is an incredibly diverse and complex field. Sadly I am not well versed in it, and not qualified to answer questions about mushroom genetics. Unfortunately I also do not have strong beliefs about the innate transitive power of animal consumption. I don't think animals or humans have any innate transformations, beyond the normal processes of digestion, caused by eating other living things.
The idea is beautiful though. What if we really did carry with us everything in the world we consumed? In a broad metaphorical sense we do of course, because we eat things to get the chemicals that physically build our body and literally transmit our thoughts. That doesn't happen because a molecule of sodium doesn't carry memories, unless you develop a purely speculative and scientifically unsupportable notion that molecules in animals somehow become quantumly entangled, but that still breaks down because that's not really what quantum entanglement does anyway. So, it can't happen, but imagining it is pretty for the most part. I'm philosophically prejudiced against the idea of cannibalism generally conferring special transfer of power or memories, because that comes from like some really specific stuff that I don't know enough about to dig into. And aside from all that, I think cannibalism as upper class elitism is less interesting than cannibalism as the hunger of disenfranchised groups.
However, I know a lot of people that would give human flesh a taste if offered, so I would let people eat however much of me they can, safely and / or legally. If I can do nice things for my friends, I enjoy doing it, even if I'm dead at the time.
My comfort in death is actually identical to my fear. I'll cease to exist. No more me, forever. No afterlife, no memories traveling through space. I mean, people will have some of me as memories, but the person I am contained unto myself is gone. I wish I could see more than whatever my lifetime will be. I would take immortality in an instant, just to see what happens.
But when I'm gone, I'm gone. And that also means everything in my head that I wish wasn't there goes with me, which is a relief as well. No more depression, no anxiety, no worries, no fears, no struggle. It will be quiet. That's comforting. I'd like as much of the noise as I can ever have, don't get it twisted, but the idea of that quiet makes me happy, like one day I'll be done.
It would be cool if my body ends up somewhere that grows lichen, because I want people to make jokes about it when I'm dead. People standing over my grave marker or whatever going "I guess she took A LIKIN' to this spot" is the kind of thing I would enjoy happening after I'm dead. I wish I could die a comedic death. Nothing would be better than to go out with people laughing uproariously at my ridiculous passing.
Anyway, does anyone reading this know about mushroom decomposition efficiency, or general fungus decomposition efficiency? What's up with that?
The idea that fungus experiences true sentient thought, but in a way that the rest of us cannot understand, is a kind of comfort to the inevitability of death and rot, to know that what consumes our corpse may in someway carry a memory onward with it.
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medullamindset · 1 day ago
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Steb on sex
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NSFW
Content: Stebs relationship with sex, before meeting you and now (•‿•) tried to make Reader as GN as possible so everyone can read tyty for coming tonight hehe *checks mic*
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Steb didn't really think about sex until he met you. It just didn't rattle him. It's not that he was against the idea, he just.. had better things to do. Sure he'd masturbated from time to time.. But not as much as you'd expect from a male teenager/young adult. Then he met you, and you always initiated, makeout sessions, over the clothes stuff, it was always you. Its not that Steb didn't care or that he didn't find you attractive, cuz he did, ofcourse he did.. He was just.. A liiittle stiff about it.
As time passed tho, Steb started to realize how down bad he really was for you. After a few months of getting to know eachother intimately, you'd started giving him boners.. Oftentimes you were actually in his lap, making him feel good. Which made sense. But other times he could just watch you move about, fixing yourself up after taking a shower. Lotioning your body, drying your hair with a towel, wearing something light like a t-shirt and underwear.. And his pants would get tight from just the sight alone, the sight of you.
He'd start thinking about you the nights he slept alone. Your pretty face, your satistfying voice, the way it hitched when he ran his fingers up and down your side the other day, humping you sensually. The way you looked with kiss bitten lips when he pulled away, red and glossy, eyes glazed over with need. He'd think about what you might look like with his cum painted all over that same pretty face- fuck. Hes down bad now.
Jerking off in the shower while you were cooking him something nice, his vocals masked by the sound of water droplets thudding against the bathtub harshly. Prior, you had reached over the table to grab something rather than walking around it. Steb glanced over at just the right time to see your shirt ride up, exposing your slightly arched back as you made a sound of effort. A little "mnh." As you settled back on your heels, returning to your task. Steb gulped and exused himself to "go take a shower" right then and there.
When you guys finally do have sex, Steb finally gets it. He gets it. The sight of you beneath him, face twisted into a look of pleasure, eyebrows knit together, eyes pleading and oh,.. The noises that fell from your lips will be engraved in his mind forever. The little gasps and "Ah's" as he picked up the pace, he replays them in his head every night when he cant sleep, rutting into his hand almost pathetically.. It couldn't ever compete with the way you felt wrapped around him tho, gummy walls sucking him in so eagerly, tighter with the more pleasure he gave you. In just half a year, Steb's sex drive went from a one to a solid seven out of ten. He craves you, and only you. In the shower, on the kitchen counter, cuddled up on the couch, fucking under the blankets like its a secret,.. in your bed ofcourse.... You've probably had hours of sex in every room of your place when you think about it. And Steb isn't one for "quickies", whats the point if he can't take his time with you?? give you his all. Draw as many orgasms from you as he can with teeth, tongue and fingers, preparing you for his ACHING cock. He gets so hard it nearly hurts, spending hours between your legs will do that to him, watching your reactions, ears flicking at the desparate noises you make, grabbing eagerly at your flesh, licking your sex up and down and all over, getting drunk off your juices. A quickie just wouldn't feel right..
Steb isn't that big on PDA either, he perfers doing it in the comfort of your home, hes got an image to maintain, hes an enforcer. He can't be known as that one fish officer who humped his fine shyt silly in a broom closet.. Even if it did actually happen. Cuz it does don't get me wrong, as long as you aren't somewhere literal children will see you, and hes horny enough.. Pull him away to somewhere you wont be interrupted and hes handsy straight away, pulling your shirt over your head and attacking your chest and neck with his wet tongue, lifting you and pressing you up against the wall zero effort. (...Maybe a little effort, hes kinda skinny) Steb is a stolid enforcer of few words, but behind closed doors, hes a moaning mess who likes it stickyyyy
In conclusion, Steb loves sex now, sex with YOU.
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thank u and goodnight (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)
Reblogs r appreciated.. Gulp.
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rovobeam · 18 hours ago
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Is Wukong gonna help Lady Bone Demon in False Hero au??
Wukong's main goal in this au is to prove everyone he's actually a good guy, so helping LBD would probably be the LAST thing he'd do. However we know this monkey and how clumsy he is in terms of making plans, and we came up with the idea that he'd go with the idea he had at first in the show, which was to use the Samadhi fire on himself to defeat LBD alone. However, considering he needs the four rings, therefore Mei, and that she'd definitely not come willingly, he'd have to take her by force to complete the ritual (= kidnapping).
What a nice way to reinforce your villain image ain't it ?
What it felt like:
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What actually happened:
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luludeluluramblings · 1 hour ago
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The Tape
Reader and Conner’s sex tape gets leaked…
Based on this…
Warning: Fem!Reader, NSFW themes, no actual smut, pure crack nonsense, fake Twitter post
A/N: @fanfictionlover277353 Heard you wanted some more! Here’s some of my nonsense!
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
"Come on, Babs. Please. I'm begging. Just for a few hours. Two tops." Dick's whining could be heard through out the entire cave. The vibrato of his voice echoing off the rocky walls and stalagmites as he leaned over Barbara's shoulder and played with her hair.
She was currently sitting at the Bat Computer, looking over anything related to the family or incidents in Gotham with strained eyes and an exasperated look on her face.
"I told you, I'm busy-"
"You need a break." Dick interrupted, playing the hypocrite with a grin. "Come on, two hours. We'll watch a movie, you can even pick. No sappy Rom-coms, anything you want. All your choice." He wiggled his eyebrows at her.
Admittedly, Barbara was tempted, but she let out an indulgent sigh.
"Fine. I'll set up notifications to alert me if anything that needs to get scrub gets posted." She quickly type out a few things on to the computer, having it connected to her phone before Dick whisked her off with way too much excitement.
It was a simple notification system. One that would alert her if anyone's vigilantes identities were mentioned in the media. Unfortunately, it wasn't set up to alert her if anyone's civilian identities were mentioned. That included the family's only civilian member as well.
And, a lot can happen in two hours with the power of the internet and a very interesting topic.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
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☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
You were having a good day. A very nice day. You had gone out into the world, enjoying the sights and sounds of a mid-morning Gotham. Ignoring the wailing sirens in the distance, by now you had grown used to it.
Dick, Babs, and Alfred where in the manor doing either Bat stuff or sleeping. Damian was visiting Jon. Duke was on patrol. Cass was at dance practice. Bruce was at the Watchtower. Tim was at the Wayne office. Stephanie was your chaperone (stalker) of the day. And, Jason was fuck who knows where.
A peaceful, calm day.
Until you got a Twitter notification and you realized...
"Oh, that's not good. That is really not good." You mutter, watching as the internet burns while you drink your coffee. Not like you could do much else. You still sent a quick text to Conner, just to prepare him while you mentally packed.
You warned him when he suggested filming the two of you making love in the Wayne manor parlor right in front of the fireplace.
You had suggested you’d both go to the mountains and fuck in the wild, but he just had to be kinky and want to do it in the manor. Better lighting he said.
If it wasn’t for the fact that it had been your anniversary and he had pulled out all the stops, you would’ve said no. (It doesn’t matter that he had you literally crying from the pleasure when the two of you had finally finished filming. Nope. Not at all.)
However, that mountain sex might still be on the table. You didn't want to be around when the rest of the family saw that video, so a remote location in the mountains sounded like a decent idea. You’d been wanting to runaway from the manor for a while anyway.
“Hey, Steph, hand me your phone real quick…” Best to probably by yourself some time.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Conner had a tendency to mute his notification on all his socials. Not that he didn't look at what people tagged him in or mentioned him in. He just find it easier to manage.
So when he got a text from you saying to check Twitter, he was a bit puzzled. But, he figured you had seen him tagged in something funny and wanted him to see it too.
Only for the record in his head to scratch when he realized what he had been tagged in.
"SHIT! Shit, shit, shit, shit." Could he get off planet fast enough? This was bad. Not the video. That was good. He may have thrown extra fuel on the fire by liking it and retweeting it on to his official account, but, damn it, was he proud of that. Probably shouldn’t have hired that rando to edit it for him though.
But, yeah, he was about to possibly be the only man ever murdered in cold blood by Batman. It was one thing to fuck his civilian daughter, but filming it in the man’s own home? Yeah, the kryptonite was definitely coming out and getting stabbed into his skull.
"JON! Distract Damian!" Conner yelled out before taking off, knowing that Jon's super hearing would pick up it up. Best get to Gotham and grab you before Batman came after his ass.
There was a nice planet a few solar systems over that you two could have some fun on. Maybe if he was lucky, you could visit that spot in front of the fireplace on last time. He doubted the two of you would get another chance to do it there again.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Jason had actually been at Roy’s that day, having finished some Outlaw business from the night before. Only to be interrupted when Roy suddenly choked on his drink and sprayed it all over him from across the table. Soaking Jason and the papers on said table.
“What the fuck?” He muttered in disgust whipping the dripping liquid off him.
Roy, however, was still choking. Wheezing as he clutched his phone like it was the most precious thing in existence.
“Nothing! Nothing!” Instantly, Roy was trying to back the video up the Cloud and his back up phone. He’s paid for porn with less quality than this and he was not wasting this opportunity before it was scrubbed from the internet.
“Let me see that.” Jason pushed the table and slammed it into Roy’s gut, causing the phone to clatter on to it. A video silently playing on the screen.
A video of two people in a fancy parlor. Doing very intimate things.
Two people Jason knew. In a fancy parlor that Jason knew.
A parlor that Jason had literally sat in three days ago watching the fire in the exact same fireplace.
“Did you fucking save this, asshole?”
“Dude, that is ART!”
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Back in the BatCave Alfred had come down to tidy up after resting a bit only to look at the screen in horror. Despite his many skills, socially media escaped him at times.
However he did manage to learn one thing…
“That was what was on my bloody carpet?!”
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁���☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Tim had been in his office, going over a couple charts when his secretary burst into the room. Stumbling and falling on the floor panting. One of her heels broken.
Normally she was a serious and composed woman, not tolerating any nonsense from him. So this behavior was unexpected and worrisome.
Tim rushed to stand up at help her when she suddenly blurted out, “Leaked sex tape!”
That made him panic. Before confusion hit him.
“Wait, did I film on of those? I don’t remember filming one of those-“
“Your sister! Superboy! PR is going fucking nuts and getting calls. Share prices are fucking increasing because of this!”
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
The Justice League Watchtower was in a meeting. Quite a long one judging by the way most of it’s members sitting around the table seemed to be drifting off or subtly scrolling their phones.
Oliver Queen, Green Arrow was one of those people scrolling. Checking over twitter, catching up on the latest gossip. Only to nearly fucking scream in the middle of the meeting when he realized what Superboy had shared on his official account.
Forget man of steel, the kid has damn balls of steel.
Worst yet, the video had been posted for over an hour. A full hour. Almost two. There was no way that was going to be getting scrubbed and forgotten. He’d bet it was in a military archive already with a team of scientist documenting the half-Kryptonian’s dick size right now.
It was an impressively long video. One that Oliver was sorely tempted to watch. But, he didn’t because he knew Batman would actually rearrange his face if he did. Like fist and plastic surgery rearrange it.
So, when he heard Batman’s voice ring out in the meeting, he broke his phone in half to hide the evidence of his discovery.
Only, Batman hadn’t been calling for his attention. He was calling for Booster Gold’s.
“Booster, focus on the meeting. Put that away—“
It was amusing to see Booster get caught with his phone out watching him scramble to shut it off in a panic. Only for it to fall to the ground.
And, the sound to turn on at full volume.
Moans to fill the silent void of the room.
Oliver could only look on in horror when he realized just what Booster had been watching, during a Justice League meeting, and across the table from Batman himself.
“Conner, please, p-please, stop teasing.”
“No, don’t think I will. You look so pretty like this. All nice and—“
No one moved. Not as they watched Batman literally work through every emotion under that cowl of his and Superman’s face went as white as it possibly could, anguish washing over both their faces when they realized who was in the video booster was watching.
Diana was the only one that stood up and moved to pick up the phone. Everyone held their breaths when she slowly looked down at the screen.
“Quite impressive. You both must be proud.” She said with a slight hum.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
A/N: I apologize so much for this, but I just was cackling the entire time I came up with this and wrote it. Forgive me y’all! 🙏🏻
A/N: All the Twitter stuff was randomly generated and picked! I’m not good with it, but I added it for giggles!
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covetyou · 1 day ago
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😭😭😭 thank you so much.
@trulybetty suggested twisting grumpy/sunshine in her prompts, I just never thought I could make it fit in with post-outbreak Joel until it just happened 🥹 I was going to go for Frankie or Dieter but Joel just jumped out of the page instead.
oh my GOD so that comment from Tommy was basically the first thing I wrote for this fic in my notes 😂 I think Joel would have loved to be a grumpy asshole in Jackson too, probably why he was so drawn to our dear reader. but, alas, the pr campaign was more important 😅
I thought a lot about how he'd be after coming back from Salt Lake City with Ellie too, and while he'd be relieved, he'd be a little lost too. he's back to figuring shit out from the beginning and finding where he fits in in a place that isn't as dog eat dog as everywhere else he'd been for years. so I think vulnerable is a really nice word to use for him in this, actually.
solstice
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ao3 ⋆ main masterlist
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader  rating: Explicit (18+ only!)  warnings: smut (PiV), competency kink, grumpy/sunshine, he falls first, yearning, angst, almost enemies to lovers, Tommy being a little shit, no use of y/n, Jackson!Joel word count: 4k  summary: Three little words. Joel heard those same three words damn near every day for the last seven months. Most days, they were the only words you said to him. Sometimes, if he was lucky, you'd say them more than once. Other days, you didn't say anything to him at all. He liked those days least of all.
A/N: happy holidays @trulybetty! thank you for being so lovely about this being a little late. I was only going to go for one or two of your prompts for the @pedrostories secret santa, but then my brain went why not all of them, and now here we are. 
divider by @saradika-graphics
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Three little words.
"I got it."
Joel heard those same three words damn near every day for the last seven months. Most days, they were the only words you said to him. Sometimes, if he was lucky, you'd say them more than once. Other days, you didn't say anything to him at all. He liked those days the least.
You said other things too, of course. He heard you speak to other people. Not always nicely, but he heard you. You said more to him on occasion too. Out my way or put it down were some particular favorites, but none said more so than those three, tiny, little words.
I got it.
Because you did. He had never met a woman who had got it more than you. Strong, capable, and everything he ever tried to be. He watched every day how you'd got it. Climbing up ladders with tiles stacked on your shoulder, hauling wheelbarrows full of gravel, chopping wood in bitter wind and cold. You had it, and he watched, wanting it too.
The only problem was, he wasn't too sure what it was.
To begin with, it was the respect you commanded that he yearned for. He had that, once. Not here. Fuck, never here. The people here would barely look at him for the first few weeks. But you? They listened to you. If you said move they listened, even if it was with a roll of their eyes. If you told someone to fuck off to medical, they went without a grumble. They trusted you. Even if you weren't particularly generous with your smiles.
You were the exact opposite of what Joel was finding he had to be.
In Boston, people feared him, and that kept him, and Tess, safe. It was for the best. The people here feared him too, at first. Maybe even still now, if he was to be honest with himself, but he'd worked hard to change that. He met the mumbled good mornings with as much of a smile as he could muster. He went for drinks with his brother, made small talk with the locals even when he didn't want to. He tried to get into Maria's good graces, but never quite succeeded.
And he worked. With you mostly. Jackson didn't have much use for hired muscle or someone who could smuggle shit discreetly - not outside of the daily patrol shifts they wouldn't let him on yet, anyway - but they did have use for contractors. Plumbers, electricians, carpenters, anyone who was good at doing shit with their hands. Those were things that had value behind these walls and, luckily for him, that meant he had value too. For the first time in a long time, he meant something to people.
Just not to you.
As much as he smiled, and made small talk, and helped out fixing shit in this place that was now his home, he could never get through to you. He'd try to help you out, only to be knocked aside - sometimes literally. You barely looked at him. Spoke only when necessary. Once, you'd even told him to fuck off.
He did.
At first he took it all personally. He moped, and kept his sour mood hidden from his brother and Ellie. Then, he saw how you were with, well, just about everyone else, and that lessened the sting.
But, as time wore on, Joel saw other things too. Where at first you'd seemed rude and abrasive, he now saw the kindness and compassion you treated everyone with. If you told someone to go the fuck home, it wasn't because you wanted them gone it was because you wanted them rested. If you let people struggle, strike their thumbs with a badly aimed hit of a hammer, it was to help them learn. You never did let anyone make the same mistake twice. And, because of you, no one did.
It was with the waning of spring that his desire to be you changed into something different and entirely more confusing.
As the gardens and trees exploded in the frenzy of summer, you shed your layers. Literally, not figuratively. You still stayed firmly closed up as your jacket disappeared and made way for a shirt hung loosely about your shoulders. Then, even that found its way around your waist and Joel had to come face to face with the bare, strong expanse of your back while you worked in nothing but a tank top, the patch of sweat at the small of your back blooming while he watched.
It was for the best that he didn't think about what you looked like walking towards him during those relentlessly hot months, with nothing but a thin tank top pulled across your chest. It wasn't something he should think about in public, anyway. It was something he kept for late at night, when those three little words echoed around his head and you showed him just how much you really, truly got it.
By October, Tommy had caught on. Your jacket was fastened back around you, and you were as hostile as ever. You breezed past him one morning, hooking a ladder over one shoulder, toolbag gripped in your other hand.
"I got it."
By now, Joel knew you did.
By now, he wanted to come with you anyway.
So he did, grabbing his own set of salvaged tools and heading up to the latest reno with you, only to have you square up to him the second you saw him.
"I said, I got it."
Five words. It was a good day.
So good, that he couldn't keep his eyes off you in the Tipsy Bison that night. You weren't in here often - from what he could tell, you didn't do much outside of work - but the people who shared your company seemed to enjoy it. You sat soft and quiet in the corner, listening in to their conversation more often than you contributed. But, when you did, they laughed, and Joel caught himself smiling, and Tommy caught him too.
"Never thought you'd be more of a ray of fuckin' sunshine than anyone else, but there's a first for everythin', I guess," he'd said, tilting his glass to the table in the corner where you sat. 
Joel took a swig of the last fresh cider of the season and shrugged.
"You got an eye for her."  
He sputtered, choking on the tart, sweet liquid. "No I ain't."
"Well you got somethin'," said Tommy, clinking his glass against Joel's own. "If it ain't an eye it's your-" 
A harsh kick, and a grunt loud enough to turn every head in the bar later, and Tommy dropped it entirely.
For about a week.
Tommy ribbed him at dinner, drinks, lunch and just about every time in between. Called Joel 'Sunshine' even as he scowled. Asked about his girl as if you were anything other than a person who hated him. Slung his arm around Joel's shoulder and told him all about the birds and the bees, as if he'd ever forgotten.
He couldn't forget. Not with you running around barking at him and keeping him in a seemingly permanent state of arousal. If it wasn't your voice and that angry way you talked at him, it was just about anything else. He couldn't escape it.
It was how you did everything he could do, and more. What he had in strength, you had in technique. Your hands - fuck, did he watch your hands - were rarely unblemished with dirt or scrapes, but they were adept at everything you put them to. He couldn't look away, even if he knew each minute he looked was a minute quicker he'd be when he touched himself to the thought of you later that night.
The taunts stopped with the first snowfall.
"If you're really that interested, should talk to her," Tommy said instead. "Bark's worse than her bite."
"You're still sayin' she bites, though."
"Sure she would if you asked nice enough, brother."
Joel didn't ask.
He didn't ask the morning he woke up early to see the town blanketed in thick snow either. He simply went out, picked up a snow shovel and began working until the sun came up. He didn't expect to find you at his door that evening, or for you to grab him and throw him outside, pushing him up against the side of his own house.
"What do you think you're playing at, Miller?" you growled up at him, pushing him firmly against the siding.
Joel stared, dumb-founded, your hands curled in the front of his shirt - touching him - and blinked down at you.
"I don't give a shit who you are or what you've done out there. I am not scared of you and I am not having you take my job."
You ignored him more after that. Days went by with barely a word to him - not even a scowl thrown his way if he made too much noise or offered to help someone out on a job.
As for him, he couldn't stop thinking about it. Every day for weeks that night played through his head, memory of the feel of your hands on his chest and your face so close he could feel your breath, until Christmas was on the horizon and a pit of fear began stirring in his stomach. You were a balm to it, somehow. Something to focus on when the fear got too much and kept him inside, away from the crowds of happy people.
Every single I got it was more of a comfort than the last. It could have been the familiarity of it, or the way those words came softer and softer as the season wore on. Sometimes he'd head by the workshop to ask if you needed a hand, just to hear that soft rejection one more time.
Until late one cold afternoon, it didn't come. You were alone, blowing warm air onto gloved hands, and when he asked you simply nodded, and he followed.
You worked together in silence until the sun set, when you turned to him as you parted ways.
"S'hard this time of year, but joy and grief can exist at the same time, y'know."
He didn't go to the Bison that night. Or the next. He let the grief crack open his chest instead, and let it pour out over his bedroom floor for two whole days.
On the third, he let the joy back in. Ellie reeled off new jokes from a book she found in the Jackson library. He held his nephew and rocked the teething babe to sleep. He went back to the Bison - you weren't there - and celebrated the impending holiday.
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Seven months, three days, and about as many hourssince he stepped foot back in Jackson. Damn near every day he's heard those three little words, and he'll be damned if he goes another without them.
With the day as short as it could ever be, the sun tracking low in the sky, he finds you.
"I got it," you say softly, when he asks you that very same question he always does.
"I know."
He doesn't know how your lips end up on his - because it is you who kisses him. He doesn't know how his fingers find themselves under your shirt either, the coldness of them making you gasp into his mouth until you're pulling apart, both wide eyed.
He does know you taste like fruit, even in the dead of winter. He always suspected it - knew your sweet tooth by the berries you couldn't resist and the sweet treats gifted to you. He knows your fingers are as cold as his when you hand him a shovel.
He does know, even though you got it, you let him help anyway.
You clear streets and roofs of snow together until the sun goes down. He follows at your heel in the dark, cold biting through your layers as you both stomp the snow off your boots, shovels thrown down, workshop locked up. You barely even look at each other until you're staring through the fog of your own heavy breaths on Joel's front porch. He doesn't know how to welcome you in - he never was too good with words - so he simply unlocks the door and pushes it open.
You step inside.
Layers are shed before the door even closes. Heavy coats dumped on the couch, boots toed off and left this way and that. The hat on your head stuffed in a pocket - he can't remember which.
You move upstairs - worked on this house, you say - and pull him into his own bedroom before his lips even touch yours again. But when they do, they do. Joel's frantic with it, feeling the softness of you so close to the hardness of him. His hands hold your waist, rooting you to him, but then you're moving them up and under your shirt to the flair of your ribcage. The curve of your breasts fit perfectly against the cradle of his thumb and forefinger, and he thinks of everything his hands have done, this is what they were made for.
It must be. When you whine at the feel of this thumb stroking across your pebbled nipple, he thinks for the first time in a long time that maybe his hands aren't so monstrous if they can pull such pretty noises from you.
In fact, the things they've done don't seem to matter at all when he gets to touch you, to pull sounds from you so sweet he'll be tasting you on his tongue all over again just from the memory of them. For all the harm these hands have done, they could never hurt you. You would never let them. You'd tear him apart first.
And he'd let you.
You swallow his groan when you palm his length over his jeans. He stiffens beneath your touch, warm and firm, and grinds into your hand. It's been so long since he's felt the touch of anyone other than himself. He could come just grinding himself against the firm press of your hand against him, if he thought about it too hard.
So he doesn't. He focuses instead on the soft plink plink plink as you run a nail up his ice cold zipper, the way you bite his lip, tangle your fingers in his hair.
He tries to take off his own belt, cold fingers fumbling against even colder metal, but you mumble I got it into his mouth, and his knees quiver.
You do. You always do.
His belt is pulled off and you're tugging him by the loops of his pants and pushing him against his own bed, the sheets still rumpled from the morning. You slip off your own and toss it to the side too, tangling it with his on his bedroom floor. Then, you're so very close to him again, his thigh between your legs as you nip and suckle on his bottom lip. He holds you close - one hand finding its way under your shirt again, cupping your breast fully this time, and the other pulling you firmly against his strong thigh.
You warm his thigh with the burning heat between your legs, grinding yourself against him, the seam of your jeans pulling tight against you. Moans you were pulling from him a moment ago are silenced by your own, your nails digging crescents into his arm as you burrow your face into his neck in an attempt to stifle them.
You're better than he ever dreamed. Softer. Warmer. Stronger. The sounds you make so much prettier than he ever thought. Those three little words so much sweeter within these walls than any other.
Even when you strip off layer after layer, it's better than he dreamed. Summer was barely a taste of you, he realises, when your shirt, your tank, your soft bra, all tumble to the floor and you climb onto the bed behind him.
You kick your jeans off, and he pulls his down too. He can't get his shirt off quick enough, the scars on his body forgotten as he strips bare for you as you watch, lust barely turning to curiousity as you take in the sight of his body.
"Come here," you tell him, and he obeys. You're softer with him when he lies beside you then. Grasping hands turn to gentle strokes, his own hands on your bare flesh mimicking your gentle movements across his skin.
When your hand trails down to his cock, squeezing once again when you feel him throb in your palm, he has to pinch his eyes closed and pretend he's anywhere but here.
"Been a long time," he says through gritted teeth. "Long, long time."
Me too, he thinks he hears you whisper before your lips latch to his again and his soft, worn boxers are slipped down his legs, kicked to the side, forgotten.
You don't look at him, and for that he's grateful. He's less grateful when you start to play with your own nipples and toy with the edge of your panties. He presses a kiss to your shoulder instead, hiding his face against you and breathing you in.
When he opens his eyes again, your panties are off, thighs spread, one hooked lazily over his own, the other stretched out on his sheets.
"Don't have to," you mumble, when he looks down at you, stunned look obvious on his face.
"I want to."
He touches you and you let him. His hands run all over your body, rough, calloused palms dragging across your soft belly, your hips, your thighs. He's dreamed of this, and still it's better than his wildest fantasies.
When your hand wraps around his bare cock, pumping his length once, twice, he thinks that's better than any fantasy too. You practically drag him by the cock, tugging gently to pull him towards you until he's kneeling between your thighs. You lazily stroke him, swiping precum across his tip and making him jerk in your grip. His own hands play with your thighs, massaging and squeezing them, drawing his fingers closer and closer to your apex.
Seven months, three days, and twenty-something hours since he stepped back into Jackson, he slips into you for the first time.
And, fuck, is it divine.
You're slick, and wet, his cock gliding across your skin before he pushes into you, and you both gasp.
He's slow. He trembles. His fingers make dents in your thighs as he grips them. You shuffle your hips, make yourself comfortable, and he holds steady while you adjust to the intrusion. Then, you pull him in, grabbing him by the neck to steal a kiss while he makes space for himself deep inside you, rocking each tentative inch into you until he's rooted inside.
You adjust - let the tenseness in your core release - and he barely holds on. And, just when he thinks he's got a hold of himself and begins fucking you in slow, languid movements, your hand moves and you say those three little words.
"I got it."
For the first ever time, he stops you. His hand pins yours to your hip, his movements stilling as you frown up at him, a threat on the tip of your tongue. So, he begs.
"Let me. Please."
And you do. He slowly swipes a spit slicked thumb against your clit, and watches as you melt into his sheets. By the look of you, the pure relief on your face, he thinks this could be the first time you've ever truly let go, and his ego soars.
It soars again when your legs tremble, rocking his thick cock in you as his thumb works slowly over your clit. You moan his name, and he groans too. He can't keep it back. It's the first time he's ever heard you say it, and he doesn't think it could sound better. Your eyes find his when you say his name again, testing him, only to pull another groan deep from his chest.
A small nod is all you give him as a sign you want more. His thumb moves quicker, popped into his mouth to taste you just for a moment before it swipes around your cunt where you grip him, and back up to your clit.
You come on him, face turned into his sheets, brow furrowed, mouth open as you moan and shake, trembling and pulsating on his cock as you come.
For you, he keeps going. Let's you ride out the waves, fluttering against him, as he barely holds back from the brink himself.
If this is all he gets - if you push him off and walk away now - it would be a good day, he thinks. But you don't. He doesn't even get chance to ask if you want him gone when you're pulling him down, kissing him, rocking your hips against him and murmuring against his throat for him to fuck you.
So, he does.
It feels sloppy, and awkward, his hips not quite knowing how to move any more as he snaps them against yours.
"Don't stop," you whisper to him with a scrape of your teeth against his shoulder. "Don't stop."
He's never been able to disobey you, he realizes. He's never had reason let alone want to. Even now, he does as he's told, keeps fucking forward into you, mattress squeaking and bed rocking as he finally, finally, finds his rhythm.
It's easy then. You spur him on, grip him tight, wrap your legs around his waist. He grunts, growls, can barely stop himself from panting, looking down at you and how you stare back at him and he thinks fuck, this is what it's like to be trusted by you.
With a sudden gasp, he pulls out, slipping from your wet heat to rut against your sopping cunt until he's spurting ropes of come against your mound and belly.
He apologizes, tries to admonish himself for being so quick. You tell him to shut up, hitting his shoulder. He does.
You both sigh in the afterglow. Even in the before, he never had times like this, he doesn't think. It was always frantic, too quick, too drunk, too fumbling. In the after, he could never quite relax enough to enjoy it fully. In the now, it's just about the best he's ever had.
You're still covered in him. Your fingers play idly in it on your belly, and he glows. He'd trace patterns with it over your skin, if only you'd let him. But then, you're up and gone, and he fears you're gone for good until you waltz back in and throw yourself next to him, mess cleaned from your skin as you stretch and yawn beside him.
"I aint tryin' to take your job, y'know," Joel tells you some time later, when the afterglow wanes and sleep pulls at him.
"Right."
He looks to you, the roll of your eyes and tug of a disbelieving smile on your lips visible in the glow of the bedside lamp.
"I promise. I'm just tryin' to... be some place."
You're still. And silent. He thinks he's fucked up for all of one second, until you're smiling sadly up at the ceiling.
"I get that," you say softly. "This is a nice place to be, all things considered."
And, though he thinks he knows what you mean, Yes, he thinks, this is a nice place to be.
This is a good day.
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wikiangela · 2 days ago
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Hi, a bit late but joining in on the @alliwantforchristmasislou project 🫶
I decided to donate to a polish organisation called the stonewall group (which is why the pic is in polish lol)
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chose this one just because im the most familiar with this one, and they do amazing work in support of lgbt+ people and fighting for our rights in this... not so queer-friendly country 🫶
now, ive been in the 911 fandom for almost 4 years now (gonna be 4 in i think February), and i only started after the episode Buck actually bc it was allll over my dash. i binged the whole show in a week, before the next episode is even aired, I loved it SO much.
as most of y'all know, I initially shipped buddie - it was the big ship, ofc i did, i wrote so much fic for them and i had so much fun and met so many moots i still love seeing on my dash 🫶❤️ but it might've been obvious (or not, idk) i was kinda getting bored and losing enjoyment, more and more of my fics and snippets were focusing on other characters with buck or eddie, i wasnt really as into it anymore - but i still loved it and wanted to enjoy it (which ironically was killed dead later on by the buddie fandom itself lmao)
and then came bucktommy and everything changed. initially i tried not to give in but within a few days i had two fics and more ideas lol they completely took over my thoughts. ive never been this inspired to write, to create, I even learned how to make gifs for them (with lots of help from amazing talented friends 🫶🤣) during fall and winter I always get so depressed and sad and having very dark and depressing thoughts (last year my buck driving fic was a result of that lol), and its so hard to find motivation to do anything, even write. but this year, even tho I had a lil crisis moment, i wrote through it and im as inspired as always - i havent stopped writing since april. they're literally the most inspiring ship ever - and fun fact, usually i prefer writing about fanon ships, so this was a huge change and surprise
I always related to buck a lot, and especially once we got his bisexuality canon - checking out and appreciating hot people of the same sex and not realizing what it means is too real lol - and Tommy is so compelling and theres so much potential for so many stories there, I wish the show would do something interesting with him 😭 despite being so confident and cool, he feels like he's holding back some sad, maybe (probably) traumatic backstory that could be so good and interesting - and lou is such a good actor and itd be amazing to see more from him in this role
they wrote tommy as the perfect love interest for buck, and it was amazing to see it on screen, it was such a breath of fresh air to see this kind of queer representation on a network show, it was so gentle and adorable, and they initially handled it with so much care, and id love to see where they'd go from there 😭 the break up broke my heart not only because it happened, but because it felt ooc and abrupt and not at all like that's where the story was going. wish they'd fix it and give us tommy back 😭🙏
and lastly but most importantly - thanks to bucktommy, i met so many amazing friends ❤️😭 even when I was writing fics and interacting with mutuals on here, i was never really talking to a lot of mutuals, not for longer than a few messages, and now i got this wonderful community that i feel so comfortable in, everyone is so nice and friendly, and I love y'all so much, this is the best fandom experience ive ever had ❤️
thank you all, ive been having so much fun since april, i love y'all. here's to more bucktommy in 2025 ❤️
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yubinluvclub6 · 2 days ago
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Die With A Smile, touya todoroki
𓆤࣭ ─ dabi/touya todoroki x sweet!reader, angst!, fluff, also i think i used the words “sweet” and “soft” about a million times, but reader is that, so.. dabi literally doesn't care of readers existence at first sob sob. highly inspired by “die with a smile” by bruno and gaga mwach, hence the title. sad ending! teeny tiny smutty moment, but it doesn't go into detail :( so sfw! idk how to write these tbh. strangers to friends to lovers(?) he calls her “doll” eeee sniff sniff! they're so in love <3 it's my first time ever writing & posting so please be nice! it was fun writing this! super short and sweet. no big plot. just for shits and giggles he he #1 touya fan !! i have such a fat crush on him i miss him sm waaa okay enjoy <3
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When Dabi first laid his eyes on you, he didn’t care to spare a second glance. Why would he? You were just another member of the League, another cog in the machine of Shigaraki’s grand design, and he had no interest in entertaining the presence of another needless human who played no part in his own personal plans.
You, with your annoyingly bright smile, that would light up your entire face, and that stupid little cat you keep around you, always toting around with it. He didn’t care. But you did play a big role in the League. You were useful. Born with a healing quirk, you were vital. Shigaraki Tomura didn’t need more crew members on his ship, but when he saw you, healing a battered up and bruised stray kitty in a filthy, sketchy alleyway near the hideout, how could he not take you in?
Dabi recalled the first time you spoke to him. Your voice of sincerity. Delicate. Gentle. Voice like an angel. Nourishing. It had weight to it. He’d thought that alone could heal his every wound and scar. You introduced yourself. Simple. So soothing. “I’m Yn. Nice to meet you all!” You had said. Smile oh so evident on your face. Luminous. That’s the first thing he noticed. No... second. Your bright ass smile. What the fuck were you smiling so bright for?
He remembers. He remembers when you first went on a mission together. He’d assumed.. quite smugly, actually, that you couldn’t fight for shit, but man, despite only possessing a healing quirk, your combat skills surprised him. He hated that it impressed him. But he didn’t care. He doesn’t care.
But it began happening.. slowly. You, chipping away at his defenses.
𓆤─
After a particularly tough mission, Dabi returned more bruised than anticipated. His skin burned. Sizzling. Hot. Irritated. But he can’t feel. He doesn’t want to feel. Pain was an old friend. But just maybe, he does.
And so, with gentleness, you took him by his hand, guiding him to a nearby chair, sitting him down, and began curing his ruined, roughed up skin with your oh so soothing magic. Hands of an angel.
He didn’t question it. Sat. Silently. Letting you do your thing.
“You need be more careful,” you said. Your voice so sweet it felt like a whisper against the chaos of his existence.
Those words lingered, and he smirks thinking about it now. Battered and bruised, just like the stray cat, before fate brought you two together. In the same position, once again, just like when you had said those words.
...
And so, began a stupid little friendship, if he dared to call it that.. You and Dabi were opposites in every conceivable way, like Sun and Moon. And yet, you gravitated toward each other. You both clicked.
Nights blurred into days, most of which were spent in his room, or yours. Banter, mindless chatter, quiet conversations, and the softest of giggles coming out of your pretty lips from an unintended joke. He enjoyed it. Found an odd sense of comfort in it. Solace. He'd often find himself craving it. The cycle would repeat, and you'd become a constant.
He's thinking. Smiling. How he would love to feel your warm hands against his stomach, despite the already burning sensation he’s feeling deep in.
His thoughts drift again.
𓆤─
He's sat alone one night, in the silence of his room, his thoughts twisting around anger and vengeance.. fear..
You knocked softly at his door.
“Dabi?” you call, hesitant. As quietly as possible, as you peak through the open gap of the door.
He doesn’t answer, tense hands buried in his dark hair.
“Can I come in?” voice still so timid and soft.
Still, no answer. And yet, you enter.
Warmth. Your body against his. You embrace him, enveloping him completely. Your softness against his harsh scars. Yours against his. Yours. Yours. Yours.
And for the first time, he let's himself hold you. His arms are around yours, tight. So tight. He doesn’t think he’ll ever let go. You, the only thing tethering him to this world. And then he tells you. He tells you everything. His past. His bitch of a father, Endeavor. Touya.
That’s when he first feels it. Plush, soft. Always soft. Always you. And he presses. Applies pressure to your lips. Putty. That’s what you both are. Your hands in his messy hair, pulling against his locks gently. His, caressing your waist, your cheek, in your hair. Everywhere. He wants you, wants all of you. He kisses with urgency and need. He wants to memorize you.
And when you’re under him, moon illuminating your features, hair messy, pretty, hands in his hair, still. Your lips on his, still. Legs wrapped around his waist, forehead pressed against eachother. Warm breaths mingling. He decides. Wherever you go, he’ll follow. He wants to be next to you. With all of you. He wants to hold you. Wants to hold all of you.
...
Dabi chuckles, liquid dripping down from his dried up mouth, dyeing his shirt red. Crimson. Metallic. Down his nose and chin. How did he end up in this situation.
...
You lay entwined in his arms, light breeze blowing from the open window. Early morning sun, golden against your body and his.
“Touya?” you say softly, head against his chest, tracing little doodles onto his chest.
“Hm?” He let you. Touya, he thinks to himself. He let’s you call him that. Sounds freeing. Comforting, playing with his name against your lips. He likes it.
“Alright, if. If the world was ending? What’s the last thing you wanna do?”
He scoffs, small smirk evident on his lips. “Why the question.”
You perk, looking up at him, eyes big and glossy. You’re perfect, he thinks. “I’m curious..”
His hand finds itself in your hair brushing it back absentmindedly, gently. Doesn’t stop. Fingers coming though them. “Then stop bring curious.”
“Touya.”
“Yn.”
You sit up, sheets falling off your body like silk. You're facing him now, cross legged. “Seriously. What’s the last thing you’d do” You press.
He rolls his eyes.
“I don’t know. You tell me. What would you wanna do?”
You smile. Pretty, he thinks.
“A lot of things.”
“Fuck that. You can only choose one.”
You whine. Telling him there’s time. Some shit about the “few hours before it actually is the end of the world.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Fine. The last 10 minutes. If the world was ending, and you had only 10 minutes, what are you doing.”
You think. Pouty, Pretty. So fucking cute.
Then you shrug. A sigh, lying your forhead against his chest. “Probably eat my favorite food. I can’t think of anything else.”
He laughs.
"Hm," you smile, looking up. “Your turn.”
Dabi looks into your eyes, his turquoise orbs, looking, admiring, studying. His thumb brushing against your cheek.
“What?” You say, cheeks flushing, a blush pink hue forming.
“Next to you.”
“Huh” You ask, small frown forming, confusion evident on your sweet face.
His voice soft, that of love, and tenderness. “If the world was ending, I'd wanna be next to you.”
You freeze. Silence. Your cheeks flushing, once again. Shy, pretty, as you process his words. Then, with a smile that could rival the sun, you kiss him deeply, harder than ever before.
“I love you, Touya” you whisper against his lips.
“Wait… but mine isn’t as good as yours…” you frown.
𓆤─
Touya laughs again. He laughs at you, and your stupid little questions. He laughs at your frown, the one that forms everytime you’re even the slightest bit confused. He laughs at your smile, so bright. Your cheeks, the ones that flush whenever he teases you. He laughs at you.
Then, he cries. Blood, again. Trickling down his cheek. Like it’s doing down the rest of his body. The blood soaks his shirt.
And so, he keeps laughing. Laughing at the fucked up situation he’s in. Laughing at his thoughts before he met you. At Endeavor, and his stupid, little brother. Laughing at his heart. His feelings. His emotions. It wasn’t supposed to end like this.
And he remembers again. 10 minutes.
And he hears. Touya. Your voice. Calling out his real name. He could hear you say his name forever. Like music to his ears. Butter. Smooth. Loving. Caring. So full of fucking love.
Touya. Say it again.
Touya. Again, please..
“Touya!” His eyes open, bloody, sticky. Your voice shatterring the silence.
“Touya” You cry, soft, warm hands frantically caressing his bloody face.
No. fuck, don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I’m sorry.
“You’ll be okay. Alright, just- just stay with me, Please.” You say breathlessly, hands brushing his disheveled hair back, touching anywhere you can.
He feels warm again. Your hands, against his abdomen, his chest.
You’re healing him. Trying. You're hurt too. Shit.
He laughs again, tears still rolling his cheeks.
Tears rolling down your cheeks.
“Yn” He says, barely there. Whispered, in pain. It hurts to swallow, it hurts to speak. Everything hurts.
“It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.” You choke out tears. “I promise. Just stay awake. Alright. Just-“
“Doll.” His weak hand goes up to his chest, wrapping around yours. Tightly, forever.
You sniff, sobbing “No”
“It’s okay.” He smiles. Fuck it hurts. “I promise.”
“Yeah. You- you’ll be oka-“
“Remember... remember 10 minutes?”
“Ten-… Touya wha-“ He smiles again.
You frown. Cute. He really does have a soft spot for you.
“I’m glad it came true.”
Suddenly it clicks.
“No. No Touya. You’re gonna be fine. I promise. Please. Just-“ Your sobs grow louder.
“I love you, Yn.”
Sobbing, tears streaming down your cheeks, hands tightly clenched in his, forehead pressed against his blood soaked chest, “I love you too. I love you so much, Touya.”
Touya smiles. Because fuck, despite being here, after everything… He’s here, with you, next to you.
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it's a lil boring lol but i had fun doing this so! tysm for reading <3
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