#my mind is still fucking blown lol
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sea-buns · 1 year ago
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Forgive me if I'm a bit nervous about Gorgug this season. It's just that the last Zac Oyama pc was Colin Provolone, who was arguably one of his greatest D20 performances, if not the greatest.
Zac always does great with every pc he plays, but Colin was something else. He came out swinging with actions and words that were teeming with unspoken emotional baggage. The way Colin's presence affected the other pcs; there was this level of depth that I don't think I've seen in any of his other characters. It was understated and quiet in that signature "just a guy" way that he tends to be, while still captivating everyone instantly with just how raw it was.
Not to say we haven't seen emotional depth in Gorgug. It's just that, compared to the other Bad Kids, Gorgug's journey and progression as a character has been very... impersonal? Like, yes, he found his birth parents, and he found friends who appreciate him, and he faced his insecurities about his intelligence, and he navigated relationship troubles, and his trial through the claustrophobic bug-tunnels was a horrifically-uncanny parallel to how he's spent his entire life trying to make himself as small as possible.
But how much of that has actually changed him from the Gorgug we started with? I would agree that he's definitely happier with his life, given all the loving and supportive people that have been added to it when it used to be just him and his parents. And he's certainly grown into himself and become more self-assured in his abilities, even if he's still, and always will be, our anxious little guy. And there's nothing wrong with that. I've always liked how Gorgug was a representation of all the little things. The subtle acts and kindnesses that don't seem like much to most, but to some are everything.
We don't need another Bad Kid living in fear that their mouth could be shit-in at any moment. We've already got one-too-many.
All that being said, I just feel like Gorgug's personal story beats are much easier to sweep under the rug than everyone else's. He has the same soft and understated quality that Colin held, but they lack that extra oomph that pushed Colin over the edge from being just another guy in a series of dudes, to a character that the vast majority of us could not get out of our heads. He took someone who was anxious and softspoken, who ultimately never wanted to be violent— someone who is remarkably similar to Gorgug in many ways— and maintained that demeanor and core in Colin's character while still hitting us in the feels with character development at max velocity at every turn.
I think Zac gets better and better at this with every season that goes by. With each new character, there is always something that leaves me stunned in awe. And it's been, what, three? Four years since we last saw Gorgug?
I'm just,,, I'm cautiously optimistic but also going into a bit of a worry about what violence this man may inflict upon us
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I can’t believe that Ed Wade is back in Cats, I’m crying (not literally thou).
This is just so wild to me. Two of my favourite cats actors (Anneka Dacres and Ed Wade) in the fucking same production!!!!!!!
Y’all know what that means: As soon as there are pics, videos of him it’s gonna be Ed Wade spam again for me.
I mean, that may sound weird but ... like if there is a character and you do not really care about them and then after you see a certain actor play them you start to like this character ... this actor’s portrayal of this character just means so much to you (at least that’s what it’s like for me).
Like, Anneka is the reason why Cassandra is my fave character and her Demeter is amazing too (all Demeters I’ve seen so far absolutly killed it). (I would give you more Anneka spam too but she doesn’t post much which is absolutly her right to do).
And like Tugger ... I always found him kind of fun and entertaining but Ed really made me enjoy and like the character. I liked his portrayal and role acting so much, he made me care about Tugger. I liked his adlibs (even though Tyler said Cats actors shouldn’t do that) and his audience interactions. He made the character feel new and fresh to me.
And them both in the same production! I mean Demeter and Tugger do not have that many interactions but STILL:
If i ever see a picture with both of them in it my mind will be blown away!
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xxsabitoxx · 1 year ago
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Where JJK Men Are Sensitive
Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Yuta, Yuji, Megumi
Warnings: all characters are 18+, this is a smut headcanon post with various levels of lewd-content lol, proceed with caution... or not, I don't judge. I mean I'm the one who wrote it so...
A/N: tried a different style than how I did this with the Hashira lol. Thank you all for blowing up my "How JJK Men Eat Pussy 2.0" post! I was and still am absolutely floored with how quickly y'all blew it up!
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Satoru Gojo
Satoru doesn’t tell you where he is sensitive because he wants you to figure it out through “exploration”. Given the fact that he is the Satoru Gojo, you jump on the offer to spend hours learning every inch of his body. You make a whole day out of it really, and it goes without saying that your endeavor was very, very successful. Sensitive and ticklish run a very thin line for Satoru and it is a line that is very easily blurred. Your first discovery was that he has a very sensitive neck. Something as small as your hands cupping the back of it was enough to have Satoru shivering in your embrace, whining a little into the kiss. You learned very quickly that one of his greatest weaknesses is your lips on his pulse, leaving faint bruises where you sucked. As your exploration continued, you found that Satoru was very reactive when you touched his chest. More specifically, you hadn’t expected him to moan the way he did when your tongue ran across his nipple by mistake. The noise that escaped him, paired with the visible twitch of his dick was enough for you to take the other between your thumb and pointer finger and pinch. The third discovery was that Satoru has particularly sensitive balls. Yep, that’s right, his fucking balls. You had given him head before, but you had never dared to touch him there since you weren’t sure how he would react. Since this was a “free-for-all” as Satoru put it, you gingerly cupped him and watched the way his jaw clenched. Your eyes were glued to his face as you massaged them, alternating your pressure to see how far you could take it before pleasure pushed the line and turned into pain. Turns out, they are sensitive but durable and well… he doesn’t mind if you’re a bit rough with him from time to time (all the time). 
Suguru Geto
Suguru refuses to let you figure out where he is sensitive until you catch him off guard one night and bind his wrists. Of course he can easily get out of them but he’s interested in indulging you because you look too damn cute when you think you’ve won. You’re pretty upfront with him about what you intend to do, which only makes him a little antsy as your fingers nimbly undo the rest of his clothing while you remain in nothing but his t-shirt. Suguru isn’t quite used to the roles being reversed but he’ll give it a try for you. The first sensitive point on his body that you discover is his ears, and it’s not because of his gauges. You actually avoid his earlobes all together, instead catching him by surprise as you sink your teeth into the shell of his ear. This earns a reaction neither of you expected, a low groan that vibrates his chest as you alternate the pressure of your nibbling before pulling away. Suguru’s cheeks are red now as you continue to explore various points on him, his dick painfully hard and sitting proudly against his abdomen as you work. The next spot is actually his sides, your fingernails scraping them has his body shivering in response. It seems some of Suguru’s sensitivity resides in the most random places, because you didn’t quite envision yourself laughing as you grazed your teeth down his side before biting softly and watching his back arch. By the time you reach his waist, Suguru is red in the face and panting, precum oozing steadily out of his tip and resting on his abdomen. He’s looking at you with blown out pupils, quietly begging you to touch him where it really “matters”, to which you shake your head. Suguru’s thighs are his other weakness, which you kind of figured since he always gets very fidgety when you sit on his lap or grind on it.
Kento Nanami
Nanami is a tough man to break down, but over the years you have located a few of his weak points. One of Nanami’s major weaknesses is his jaw/neck, more specifically when you’re kissing and sucking and biting there. There is something about the sensual drag of your teeth on his skin that has his composure dissolving. You know this of course, so you use it to get your way when Nanami is being a little too stubborn for his own good. This neck sensitivity goes a little further though, something as simple as adjusting his tie or fixing his collar will have Nanami shivering from your touch. You found another weak spot by mistake, turns out Nanami is rather ticklish when it comes to his Stomach. You had been riding him, initially placing your hands behind you on his legs to hold yourself as your hips rose and fell. But your back was getting sore and the angle was starting to get tiring, so you slowed and pushed yourself forward rather than leaning back. The moment your hands made contact with Nanami’s abs, he was gritting his teeth and throwing his head back. You initially thought you had hurt him by pressing down on him, but that worried thought disappeared the moment he gasped out for you to “not move” when you started to pull your hands away. You started paying a little more attention to his stomach shortly after that, just because you enjoyed the way he squirmed and fell apart. Unknown to you still is the fact that Nanami’s nipples are very sensitive. He keeps it hidden because he is utterly mortified by how turned on he gets from it. Even if your hand ghosts over them, even if he’s still fully dressed, the feeling has his face turning a deep shade of red. He knows if you figure this out, you’ll go out of your way to touch him there regardless of where you both are, and he just knows he won’t be able to stop the heat from flooding his face. 
Toji Fushiguro
Toji is pretty damn adamant that he has no “weak spots”. That’s up until your hand rests on the back of his slutty ass, tiny waist and he’s crumbling at the feeling. Something about your fingers on his skin has Toji losing his train of thought, he’ll stop mid-sentence if he feels your hands on his waist. Maybe it’s because of how intimate that one touch is, especially when you’re the one grabbing his waist and he’s not the one grabbing yours. Shiu likes to give Toji a funny look if you do this while in his presence, it’s typically one Toji ignores. To continue this “men with sensitive nipples” agenda I got going on, Toji will be putty in your hands the moment your lips wrap around one of his nipples. He’s utterly shameless when you start sucking and biting his chest, moaning and groaning while his hips buck into the air. You are mindful of how you straddle him solely because you don’t want to give him any sort of relief when you toy with him, hence his restless hips meeting empty air rather than your own. Toji’s rather embarrassed by how sensitive the head of his dick is, especially when you’re giving him head. Even the smallest of touches, the quickest tug, even the gentlest lick, will have his jaw going slack. You’re just as cruel as he is sometimes, deciding to focus all of your attention on the tip of his cock just to watch him struggle to clench his slack-jaw to try and hide his noises. You’ll have him coming in no time at all, making sure to be relentless in your teasing after the fact because he can be just as relentless with you when roles are reversed. A bonus spot is his balls, because why the fuck wouldn’t they be. He’s desperate to keep that one a secret but you are too damn observant to get anything by.
Sukuna Ryomen
Sukuna, sensitive? Nah, no fucking way. He is the only man on this list that can confidently say he doesn’t have a single point on his body that will have him crumbling if you touch it. The thing with Sukuna is that he will not let you have enough freedom to roam his body. You are his, but he is not yours. That’s not to say he’ll turn you down if you start sucking and kissing his jaw and neck, the gentle scrape of your teeth certainly do something to ease the tension in his shoulders. But that definitely doesn’t mean those spots are sensitive, nope, not even a little. Sukuna’s hips definitely don’t falter when you grind against his pubic bone while he has you stuffed to the brim with his cock. Oh and he absolutely can’t stand it when your nails rake his shoulders, specifically between his shoulder blades. The king of curses himself has NO weak points, I mean really he doesn’t. There is nothing you can do to get the curse to submit to you, and that’s just the facts. Sukuna definitely doesn’t groan when you do any of these things, he definitely doesn’t utter your name in a deep, warning rumble as you try and fuck with him. And he most definitely does not enjoy when you litter his skin with your own bite marks… just warning ya~
Yuta Okkotsu
Where isn’t this man sensitive? Yuta is pretty embarrassed about how easily he can fall apart under your touch, especially when you are holding his hips while you kiss him. Something about the way your fingers dig into his skin, as if trying to keep him close while he has his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Like he’ll disappear if you let him go, fuck it just get’s him going. Depending on where you are, Yuta will likely have you pinned to the wall the moment he feels your hands desperately clawing at his hips. You found out pretty quickly that Yuta’s hip sensitivity spreads down to his thighs. The moment your back hits the wall, Yuta is shamelessly shoving his leg between your thighs, spreading them for him as his knee hits the wall and his thigh is slotted snuggle against your heat. Yuta’s noises are relentless as your hips grind down on his thigh, the muscles tensing under your movements and only adding to the shared pleasure of it. You realize pretty fast that Yuta enjoys marking you, but that he also enjoys being marked. That goes hand in hand with his numerous sensitive spots. One time you actually bit his shoulder and he swore he could have come, completely untouched, right then and there. You’ll have his eyes nearly crossing if you rake your nails along his back, the stimulation your sex offers him paired with the ticklish/scratchy stimulation of your nails on his skin is enough to have him sobbing. Yuta will absolutely lose his mind if you bite his neck too, he gets off to being covered in your love bites. That being said, Yuta’s dick is just as sensitive, if not more sensitive than the rest of his body. When you first started having sex, you would tease him by saying you need to fuck more often so he can build his tolerance. Not that you mind having multiple short rounds, especially since he makes sure you cum Every. Single. Time. 
Yuji Itadori
Bless this man, he’s so touch starved that it’s impossible for him to not get the chills whenever you touch him. Yuji’s beyond sensitive, especially when it comes to your touch. Some of his most sensitive spots are actually pretty random and sometimes very specific. For example, just below his ear, that spot on your head where your jaw ends and your ear lobe nearly meet. You kissed him there once, a kiss placed among many, but that was the one spot that had him breathing out, begging you to do it again. So you did, kissing intently and sucking a bruise there until Yuji’s fingers were nearly bruising your waist. You learned his body pretty fast, finding that his chest was pretty sensitive as well, earning you pretty noises every time you so much as ran a finger down his sternum. He doesn’t particularly enjoy his nipples being toyed with roughly, that’s one area that’s more painful-sensitive rather than pleasurable-sensitive. But he doesn’t mind if you kiss them or lick them gently. He’s all for massages, especially when you have him on his stomach, your hands kneading the muscular flesh of his back until he’s shamelessly groaning as you work out the tense knots. But nothing could have prepared him for the pleasure your hands brought him when you began massaging the small of his back. It was enough to turn his groans into moans, goosebumps erupting over his flesh as he shivered uncontrollably. You listened to him, following the instructions he cried out for you to not stop, noticing the way he was grinding his hips into the mattress below you. The sight had been so lewd that you couldn’t make yourself stop even if you tried, dying to see how it all played out, dying to see if he’d make himself cum. Yuji adores it when you run your hands all over him, the feathery light, ticklish touches are enough to make his lips buck, cock twitching violently as he waits for you to do more to him. 
Megumi Fushiguro
Oh Megumi…Megumi Megumi Megumi. He takes after his fathers, not willing to admit he has any weak spots but also willing to let you try and find them. Contradictory but either way, you’re eager to know how to make the typically stoic man crumble. It came as a shock when you figured out one of his sensitive points within thirty seconds of climbing into his lap. Megumi’s thighs are very sensitive, even from something as simple as your weight settling on them. It also helps that the heat from your covered sex can be felt through the material of his clothes, your closeness only making it more apparent. You’ll use this information against him later on, especially on nights where you just want to get him worked up. Turns out Megumi’s neck is pretty ticklish, the mix of your soft lips and hair as well as your teeth gently grazing him is intoxicating. Megumi finds himself struggling to stifle his noises as you mark his neck up with as many love bites and bruises as you can before his self restraint runs thin and he gives up on this whole “locate the weak spots” endeavor. Did I mention he takes after his fathers, cause he does. Megumi is mortified by this fact, but his balls are pretty damn sensitive. After an hour of making out and letting you feel him up, you finally reward him for his patience and give him head. He’d rather your sex but he’s too damn worked up to care at the moment, and your mouth is fucking perfect anyways. So, given that he’s let you have more leeway in the last hour than he has during any other of your sexual encounters, you take the liberty of cupping his sac as you wrap your lips around his tip. You nearly choked when he almost immediately spilled into your mouth, the hour of teasing had worked him up more than either of you anticipated and he had no strength left to mentally prepare for you doing something as bold as that. 
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goldfades · 11 months ago
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shower sex with luke hughes help
✮ 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, lh⁴³
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♡ ─ word count | 1k
♡ ─ warnings | NSFW under the cut! unedited (no one is surprised) unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it kids), p in v action, pretty vanilla lol, jack being a cockblock HA
♡ ─ taglist | @dancerbailey3 @valluvsu @daisysnhl @dasiysthings @iminlovewithtz11 @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvleyzoe @bowen-power @ru-kru @jackhughesily @hearts-for-luke
♡ ─ ev's notes | i haven't written a full blown smut in a while i hope i'm still good at it LMAO, hope y'all will enjoy!!! also requests are open so PLEASE SEND THEM IN! ya girl is trying to get out of a really bad writing rut rn :((
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The warm water was rolling down the curves of your body as you relaxed, feeling all the stress from the week running down the drain with the water. Your fingers worked themselves into your scalp as you washed your hair with your coconut scented shampoo, washing it thoroughly.
You were too engrossed with washing your hair, you didn't hear the bathroom door open and close swiftly. You heard the glass bathroom door open and quickly turned around to face your boyfriend, who had invited himself into the shower.
"Hey," Luke spoke casually as his racked down your body, not even trying to hide his smirk. His eyes took in every curve of your body, feeling his face warm up in the process. "How was your day?"
You laughed at how casual he was acting, despite being in the shower. But you didn't really care, you had missed him. "Busy. How was yours?"
"Stressful?"
You nodded, sighing.
"Maybe I can help with that?" He answered smoothly, the smirk evident in his expression as you laughed. He looked down at you, his eyes focusing on you and your body. Despite your bashful expression, you couldn't help but feel your stomach twist in desire as you gazed up at your boyfriend.
It had been a while since you two had sex with your busy schedules, the only downside to being adults. And you weren't busy, Jack was always around being a cockblock, which both of you hated.
"I'd love that," you answered, breathlessly as he smirked down at you. He instantly leaned down and gave you a soft kiss, taking your face in his hand. The kiss was gentle but very needy but it escalated into a sloppy make-out session as the water dripped down both your bodies.
Luke's hands wandered further down, clasping your neck in an attempt to bring you closer. You let out a moan into the kiss as he pushed you against the tile, taking control of the kiss.
"Been thinking about you all day, Y/N." Luke's lips traveled down to your chin and then to your neck, planting harsh kisses everywhere. Your eyes shut in pleasure, as you let him touch you. "Couldn't focus because of you, princess. All 'cus of you."
Your mind had turned into mush the moment he started sucking on your sensitive spot on your neck, a nasty moan coming out of your mouth. All you could think of was Luke, Luke, Luke.
His hands then grabbed your hips, pushing them closer to his. Your arms naturally crossed around his shoulders as he came up to give you a rough kiss, his hands bruising on your hips.
The water was still running as he pulled your legs up, crossing at his hips. "I missed you so much, baby."
"Missed you too." You responded breathlessly as he pulled you into another kiss. One of his hands travelled down to your soaking cunt, his fingers teasing.
Your back arched against the tile as he kept touching your cunt, but careful not to enter. He was teasing and both of you knew it, you hated it. "Fuck Luke, come on."
"What? I wanna take my time with you baby, is that such a crime?" He spoke and you could feel his smirk against your neck as he kept playing with cunt.
You whined as he kept leaving teasing touches on your cunt before he finally entered one long, slim finger in you. Your whole body jolted at that, clenching around his finger. He kept it there for a few seconds before he began thrusting it in and out, slowly.
"Luke, please." You whined, his pace was slow and excruciating, you hated it.
"Please what?"
You hated when he did this, but you knew it made the O better. "Just fuck me, Luke."
He let out a laugh before he stopped completely, taking his finger out of your sticky core. Before you could complain, you felt him push in his tip inside your cunt slowly. Your back arched in response, your head falling back on tile from the pleasure. He was only a quarter in and you felt so full, he was so big.
He stretched you out so well, you felt like your head was in the clouds. As he bottomed you out, you felt like your whole body was on fire. You loved how well he filled you up, it was like he was made for you.
Your arms hung off Luke's shoulders as his hands were still holding on to your hips as he began thrusting in and out of you, slowly at first. But you knew that pace wouldn't last. Before you knew it, Luke was fucking you into the wall as you held onto to his shoulders for dear life.
"Luke!" you cried out as he kept his pace brutal and quick, just like you liked. His head fell on your forehead as he kept pounding into you, your whole body shaking with each thrust.
You felt the familiar burning sensation in your lower stomach as he kept his pace and you knew you were close. Your walls clenched around Luke's cock, he moaned at that. You were so tight and so warm, he loved how you felt.
He moved one hand from your hip and went down to your clit, rubbing the nub as he kept fucking into you. Both sensations made you cry out in utter pleasure, your whole body began twitching. The knot was getting tighter and tighter and finally, it snapped. Your moan echoed throughout the bathroom, your vision blurring momentarily as Luke chased his own high. His hips snapped against yours roughly, fucking you through your orgasm.
And before you knew it, he was spilling his seed into you. You both breathed heavily, trying to regain your composure after that. But before neither of you could say anything, you heard some knocking on the door.
"Could you guys fuck quieter please, I'm trying to take a nap." Jack's voice was muffled on the other side of the door as he spoke. Luke immediately let out an agitated sigh.
"Jesus Christ." Luke mumbled before he continued, "Whatever dude, go back to sleep."
"Are you guys using protection or am I gonna be an uncle soon?" Jack teased before you and Luke let out annoyed groans.
"Go back to bed!" You both shouted in union.
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thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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theragethatisdesire · 2 years ago
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aot men as dads - headcanon!! some 18+!!
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includes: eren, jean, reiner, & levi
i'm still working on some full-fledged one-shots and parts of my series', but i'm nannying for the summer and have BABY FEVER. please enjoy my little headcanons of my fav aot men as dads <3
DISCLAIMER: some of this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.
Eren
ok but eren is such a cringe dad lol
buys himself all of the #1 Dad! merch. he’s got mugs, tshirts, hats, all of it, and all of it went on his credit card.
10000% a girl dad. loves all the little dresses and bows; he puts your daughter’s hair in its first bun, nearly tears up when she points at his matching hairstyle and babbles “like da-da!”
you have to parent eren as much as the children. when you turn the corner into the living room where he’s supposed to be having “quiet time” with your toddler only to find that they’re buried in a pillow fort and eren’s signed his own name in crayon on the wall next to your daughter’s scribblings. “babe, we can just repaint it! she’s being creative.”
loves when you’re pregnant. after your first, eren keeps a calendar on the wall marking off the days until it’s safe for him to fuck you again, fuck a baby right back into you. already has a breeding kink before your first. develops a lactation kink after.
TERRIFIED (and i mean terrified) of hurting your little angel. has absolutely zero concept of “cry it out”; if he hears his baby crying, he’s sprinting into the next room, kissing a nonexistent boo-boo.
refuses to admit it but he has no backbone when it comes to your daughter wanting literally anything. she wants it, she gets it.
favorite thing in the world is matching outfits. favorite. “babe, where’s her green hoodie? i’m wearing mine today for the park!” “of course it matters, we have to match! on that note, where’s yours?”
lets your daughter use his hair to learn how to braid. usually has a few pink hair ties or glittery clips sticking out of it when you come home from a mom’s night out.
really big on your baby getting to see the world. drags you on vacation to any place he can think of, even as you try to explain to him that she can’t form any long term memories yet. “but baby, she’ll have pictures. how many kids in her class can bring a picture of them at the eiffel tower to their first show-and-tell?”
accidentally ruins santa and the tooth fairy for your daughter. cries harder than she does over it.
aggressively vets babysitters. ends up settling for a nursing student in the labor & delivery school who’s the oldest of seven children and probably more knowledgeable about child development than both of you combined, but he’s still suspicious.
wants to watch while you push, watch his baby come into the world. you’ve never seen a sweeter sight than eren in his scrubs, crying while holding your baby girl.
Jean
most people picture eren as being the roughhousing dad, but it’s jean, and i will die on this hill.
freaks out every time he drops your first boy while throwing him around like a ragdoll, but he’ll never stop because “listen!! he’s laughing!”. when it comes to the rest of them, he’s experienced enough now to tell the difference between a real booboo and an imagined one, and he simply brushes their little pants off caringly before shouting “now you tackle me!”
jean’s got no gender preference for your first, or the rest of your little brood for that matter. he raises them exactly the same, regardless: tough.
it takes him awhile to get used to the concept of babies’ minds. you’ve walked in on him having full-blown arguments with your shrieking toddlers several times. “what’s not making sense? if you let your goldfish ‘swim’ in the toilet, it dies, simple as that.”
plays “bad cop” for you because you’re terrible at it, but he’s always having to turn around and snicker into his elbow in the middle of scolding because your babies get the same little throbbing forehead vein as you when they’re mad
wants a big family, and gets it. you practically have to drag him to get his balls snipped after your fourth, him reminding you that “it’s reversible!” the entire way there.
the newborn phase is his favorite. he’s rarely home for any longer than ten minutes without scooping your most recent addition into his arms, squishing their little cheeks and marveling at their gurgling noises.
the kids never give him anxiety, but when you’re pregnant??? jean’s a wreck.
“do your feet still hurt, love?” “what do you mean you have indigestion? that could be the baby coming!” “of course we can’t have sex, what if we poke its little head?”
definitely the dad that’s got a delivery bag and a backup bag and an emergency third backup of the backup bag in his car at all times. the first week of your third trimester, he starts watching you suspiciously for any signs of labor, even though this is your fourth together. you think you’ve got it down by now, you tell him, but he won’t listen.
always gets the kids to work together on little surprises for you. every mother’s day they wake you up with breakfast, every valentines day your dining room table is covered in handmade cards, every birthday your kitchen is coated in flour from jean and four little ones attempting to bake
SO HARD to drag him out for a date night. he wants to bring them everywhere: the fancy restaurant, the couples' get away trip
jean's that dad standing in the bar, watching the game, beer in hand, with an occupied baby carrier strapped to his chest
wants to watch during delivery, but he passed out the first go-round, so now he’s content standing up by your head, trying not to turn white as you squeeze his hand hard enough to break.
talks you into just one more on your fourth’s second birthday. “they’re all so big now. don’t you miss it, babe? my baby in your belly? c’mon…” turns out he reversed that vasectomy without telling you
Reiner
another girl dad. hardcore girl dad.
buys his little princess all number of dresses and barbies, is confused when she’s more interested in the baseballs her classmates have.
accidentally raises the most tomboyish, toughest little girl. still babies her, and she hates it.
cries more than you do on your first date night out when you leave her with your mom. forgets to order his entree at the restaurant because he’s watching the baby monitor app on his phone.
definitely the best at splitting baby duties with you. reiner’s up before you most nights when she wakes, grabbing a bottle and cooing at her lovingly even as she screams. you always try to stay awake to watch him on the baby monitor, though, heart melting as his massive arms rock the tiny bundle back to sleep.
all the neighborhood kids love him because of his size. at every cookout, reiner can’t help on the grill because he’s buried in the grass in a little army of toddlers, led by your daughter, shrieking with joy.
always taking pictures. literally always. unflattering ones when you fall asleep breastfeeding, candids at the zoo, eighteen identical pictures of the lock of hair from her first haircut clogging up his camera roll.
can’t be the bad cop. literally ever. he just can’t say no to his little princess, can’t break her precious little heart by telling her that throwing her food onto the floor is bad.
takes your daughter to mommy & me classes with him
DILF DILF DILF. all the moms in the classes swoon over him and gossip about him when he’s not there; much to your annoyance, reiner never notices, insisting that they’re his “mommy friends”.
always sporting a little bit of glitter on his face or a sticker on his back from your daughter
coming from a fatherless background, reiner nearly kills himself trying to be a constant presence in your daughter’s life (you have to remind him that he has to rest too)
never misses an open house night at school, even if it nearly gets him fired. coaches all of her sports teams. literally almost cries when she makes her first soccer goal. actually does cry when she tells you the boy sitting beside her in class called her his girlfriend. full-blown breakdown on her first day of school, so bad he has to stay home from work.
the absolute BEST through your pregnancy and delivery. always cooking your craving of the week, constant foot and back rubs, stays up all night with you for the three days before the birth when you’re just too swollen and miserable to sleep.
holds your hand through the entire delivery, gets in the doctors’ way when they’re performing checkups because “i’m her father, i need to know what’s going on”
Levi
levi never pictured himself as having children, but when your little surprise arrives, blinking up at levi with his own grey, owlish eyes, levi can’t believe he hadn’t thought of it sooner.
very easily irritated with anyone asking questions about your home life.
when his coworkers ask for your newborn’s name, levi simply says “child.” are you two trying again? “why the fuck do you need to know?”
super overprotective. your baby waves at someone in the supermarket, and levi’s leaning down to explain (in words your eight-month-old can’t yet understand) stranger danger.
totally one of those parents that goes half-crazy trying to get their child into the top-notch, snobby preschool in town.
“we’re not wasting his intelligence on the public school”
levi grew up with basically nothing, so he goes all out buying the best baby products on the market. $2,500 strollers, researching “best baby toys for development”, the whole nine yards.
100% spends months trying to get your child to make a game out of picking up his own toys after playtime, but it never works.
has a meal plan for your child to “optimize nutrition” that you have to sneak around to give your baby little chocolates and junk snacks.
“why are there pringles in his playtime bag? they have no nutritional value.”
vets anyone that comes around your child, even other children. “no more playtime with that evan kid. he’s always got a cold or something.”
he’s always been a light sleeper, but once you have your child, levi snores beside them watching kids’ cartoons on the tv like you’ve never seen him, even drooling as his head lolls, arm tucked tight around your little one.
learned everything he could about labor and delivery beforehand
you almost killed him in the delivery room as he explained each medical detail of your labor symptoms to “reassure” you. he finally got the hint when you threatened to decapitate him.
he thinks it’s shameful, but watching you be a mother turns. him. on. 
wants to take you right there when he catches you breastfeeding, watches you read a bedtime story, spin your child around laughing. you’re just so naturally good at it and it makes him love you all the more, all that love going straight between his legs.
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obsessedwrhys · 9 months ago
Note
The Seven and The Boys with forced supe reader(like Billy’s little sister as revenge for billy and the boys constantly causing problems)
Rouge powers reader————powers turn on and off randomly
can absorb life forces and powers(which they can steal(albeit accidentally))
Very stubborn and sarcastic just like her brother
Home lander is probably extra yandere for tons of reasons and keeps the reader in a glass room(enclosure or whatever)(think a zoo exhibit or big aquarium tank without water—— that one room from You or the glass apartment In Supernova for the kid with the same sort of powers)so that he can see his pet/prize/whatever tf he plans to do with them
-🌑
I keep seeing this as a full blown fic in my mind but I don’t have the skills to pull it off so I’d like to see other people’s takes on the idea!
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Boys x Rogue!Reader
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ᯓ★ I read your req and I'm intrigued so this is my attempt on it, hope it meets your expectations. This is like a full on story lol (angst, gore, death, killing, looooots of cursing like I'm not even exaggerating, homelander being homelander, some fluff at the end?)
Parts: 2
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With your brother's reputation, it's hard to ever live your whole life without the constant need to look over the shoulder. You always liked to tell yourself that after cutting ties with him, it will ensure you your safety, but those words were nothing more than just lies.
Losing Becca changed him completely. You could still recall the last time you spoke to him, the talk regarding your concern escalating into a heated argument.
"I'm telling you! You have no chance against a literal superpowered person! You'll get yourself killed!" You raised your voice, standing on the other side of the kitchen counter.
"Yeah, but this ain't a life worth livin' for anyways" He brushed your words off like he usually does. You watch in disbelief as he pours himself alcohol.
"Fuck you. You're such an asshole..." You said and he nods at you as he lifts his glass up.
"I'll drink to that" You scoff when he actually drank from his cup, the sound of him sipping ticking you off.
"Okay, fine, get yourself killed! But I won't stand to be here when it happens. I want you out of my life. I never wanna see you. I never even want to hear from you again! You're... you're..." You gasp as you start to sob. He turns to you, nothing but a blank expression on his face.
"Hey... take it easy—"
"No! Don't you fucking tell me to take this shit easy when you just admit to me that you're willing to throw away your life for some blonde american supe! You are a shitty brother! You're just like dad!"
"Don't you fuckin' compare me to that cunt!"
"I fucking said what I said!"
"Fuck you!"
"FUCK YOU!!"
The sound of your heavy breathing filled the kitchen. You could feel your chest rising and falling, your face burning from the overwhelming anger. Butcher sighs at the sight of you as he looks away with his eyes closed.
"You don't know half the things I know sis... you have to understand..."
"No... don't bother telling me. I already know that you'll never change..." You grabbed your things and before he could stop you, you left the house, slamming the door while you were at it.
For the next 8 years, you would find yourself living somehow a happier life. Making friends, going through relationships and heartbreaks, getting multiple jobs to pay for your apartment. It was like an ocean wave since it was never steady but you couldn't deny you've never felt more alive.
However, even on these good days, there were nights you'd find yourself waking up to nightmares. Nightmares of your brother dying. Nightmares of being abandoned. It always left you covered in cold sweats and sometimes you couldn't go back to sleep so you'd just sit by the window or watch some videos online to keep your mind off it.
Even though you convince yourself you were happier.
You never felt secure.
You always felt like something was out to get you.
Especially after you saw the news of him theorised to have killed the senior vice president working at Vought. You couldn't bother to remember her name cause the image of your brother was hauntingly enough. That's when you realised, if they were after him, what if they were also after you?
You stood at the counter of the restaurant you worked at. The job was new as you interviewed for the role of the cashier. Though all these days of dealing with rude customers and having to force a smile is making you want to rethink a different job. Just then, the door to the restaurant opens.
"Welcome!" You said as cheerfully as you can. Instead of searching for a table to sit, the customer approaches you.
"I'm sorry but where's the restroom? I really need to go" The customer spoke, he was wearing an awfully lots of layers, even shades indoors.
"It's just at the back to the right, there's a huge sign, it's hard to miss it" You smiled and the customer stares at you for a while before nodding.
"Thank you"
Finally, he leaves and you couldn't help but be relieved. Why were you holding your breath in the first place? After a couple more hours of standing around and smiling, your shift was done. You did your daily duties and cleaned up the place, making sure it was clean before you leave.
"Bye (Y/N)! Don't forget about our hangout this Friday night!" Your friend spoke as she leaves first.
"Trust me I'm looking forward to it!" You replied before heading to the back of the building to throw the trash away.
You were on your way to the huge bins until you felt the trash bag become lighter. You stare down and was annoyed the second you saw that the bag had tore. It's settled, you're getting a new job after you get your salary. You crouched down and tried to think of ways to solve the issue.
Once you stood up, you felt a sharp pain on your neck. Before you could even do anything to find the source of the pain, you collapsed. The last thing you could feel before becoming unconscious was the touch of someone catching you.
....
"Will it work?"
........
"We've only tested on rats. We're not sure sir"
...........
"Do I have to rephrase? If she dies, you fucking die with her, you understand?"
...............
"Yes sir"
.....................
"Good. Now do what you're only good for, you fucking worthless piece of shit"
...............................
Lights... knives... syringes... you slowly awoke on the floor as faint images of what you would recall as a memory began flashing in your head. Did that happen? It felt real. You opened your eyes and blinked a couple of time to register the room you were in.
You were... in a cage?
You looked around, the walls and floors made of white marbles which made it cold when your skin made contact with it. Now that you realised, you were no longer in your uniform, you seemed to be wearing some kind of gown patients would wear for surgery.
"Morning sunshine!" Your body jumped when you heard a familiar voice, a voice you only heard on the tv or radio shows. You stare at him as he walks to the center, a few feet from your cage.
It was Homelander. You never thought the day would come where you would be face to face to the person behind the reasons of your brother's rampage.
"Did you rest well?" He asks, an eary grin on his face. You looked around the inside of your glass cage.
"Couldn't you have given me a mattress?" You said. Your concern catching him a bit off guard but he didn't show it.
"Well, we tried to give you something more comfortable to sleep on but it seems like anyone who tried to even touch you ended up well... what's the word for it... withered. Dead. Nothing but a corpse suck dry of it's life" He said but you had no idea what any of his words meant.
"Is this some joke?" He chuckles.
"No. No joke (Y/N). I'm simply just giving my hypothesis on your new powers"
Powers? You have to be high right?
Did whatever pain that you felt was the mark of your death?
Is this some sick twisted illusion of yours created in hell?
"Yeah right... and I'm fucking Beyonce. Would you like to see my collection of Grammys?" You said sarcastically, clearly not taking anything seriously.
Homelander doesn't say anything but just laugh, since you were clearly convinced this was hell and that you were dead, you laughed along with him. He trembles his shoulders as if he's cold, that devilish grin still on his face.
"Wooo! You're a jokester aren't you (Y/N)? I know I'm just gonna love you. How about I bring you a gift as a symbol of our blossoming friendship?" He asked but he had already left the room. Your answer never even needed at all.
As your laughter died down, you were left alone in the room. You felt high. Too realistically high. Were you pumped with drugs? Shit... you grabbed your head as you tried to process the feeling until you heard the sound of a high pitched scream. You turn your head to find it to be your friend from work. She was shoved into the room and right when she stood up to leave, the door was shut.
"Let me the fuck out! You fucking bitch! You promised me weed!" She slammed on the door a couple of times after attempting to twist the doorknob open.
"Cleo?" She turns to you, her masacra ruined from her tears.
"(Y/N)? Holy shit what happened to your hair?" She said and you were confused until you checked to see the front strands of your hair now dyed white.
Okay now what in the actual fuck is happening...
"I don't know...? Why are you here?" You questioned.
"Some fucker promised me weed for some cash. I should have known better when I saw how cheap it was" She sighs as she sits against the door.
Suddenly the glass door on your cage sprung open. The two of you exchanged confused expressions. Is this some kind of trick? You wondered but either way you stepped out from your cage and began to approach your friend. She sighs as she curls up into a ball.
"What the fuck even is this place...?" She asks after you finally sat down beside her. You rubbed her arm to provide some comfort.
"I don't know... this feels real and fake at the same time. Hey, if by any chance we were in a puzzle just like in Saw, how much do you wanna bet who'd win—?" You nudged her playfully but instead of getting a response. She falls over.
Her face was pale white. Eyes dilated. The veins on her body growing visibly purple. The sight left you in shock and you quickly grabbed her by the shoulder to jerk her a few times. No words left her mouth except sounds of gasping, as if the air was getting sucked out of her lungs.
"Cleo! What the fuck! Holy fucking shit!" You cursed and it didn't take long until her body grows limp. Like a skeleton with a thin layer of skin left.
Afraid the same would happen to you, you quickly ran into your cage. You sat at the corner, trying your hardest not to look at your friend. That was real. This isn't some stupid trick set up by Satan. This is fucking real.
But why is this happening?
Why you?
The glass door slammed shut and the noise made your body jump. The door to the room opened but got stuck at the weight of your friend's corpse. You could hear the sound of disgust come from Homelander as he ends up kicking body aside to be able to open the door fully.
"So... did you like my gift?"
"What the fuck did you do? Did you poison her?" You said which he seemed offended at.
"Me? Oh please, I can shoot fucking lasers out of my eyes and I choose to poison some fucking nobody? I mean look at her" He chuckles, his eyes staring at the corpse of what was your friend.
His tone and words growing a small wave of anger within your chest.
"What do you want from me?"
"You know what I want" He said, the smile on his face gone. He was now serious. His gaze cold enough to send shivers down your body.
"(Y/N) Butcher. Butcher. I didn't know he had a little sister" He took a step closer, then another, until he was face to face to the glass, staring down at your figure hiding away in the corner.
"He really doesn't get scared huh? Not afraid of death, to take a life, not even me. And well... since he fucking hates supes so much, then I might as well make his beloved sister one. If I can't strike fear in him, you will" Homelander spoke, the corner of his lips twisting into a grin. As if all of this was bringing him some sick enjoyment.
"Everyone will be the pawn and you'll be the queen... so save your strength. You're gonna need it sweetheart" He turned around and as he leaves, he stares at the corpse for a quick moment. Even from inside the cage you could hear him shout for the people working to clean the body.
Fuck... this cannot be your life now...
You're now an animal kept in a cage.
Hours progressed to days then months. The only thing keeping you entertained was... the toilet? Aside from that was the visits Homelander would pay you every now and then to make sure you were alive. It almost seemed like he had expected you to be dead by now but you weren't, which he's impressed about.
You laid on the ground, staring at the ceiling. You were bored so you decided to try to count from 1 to 10000 this time. Just as you got to 482, the door opened and you turned to see it wasn't Homelander but rather a worker. Assuming he's just here to clean, you turned back to the ceiling to continue counting.
"Pssh, ma dame, do you hear me?" He knocks on the glass, his french accent caught your attention.
"I don't care. I'm not gonna strip for you"
"Nono! That's not why I'm here, your brother, Billy Butcher? He sent me here" His name striking something in you. You got up as your eyes are slightly widened.
"He knows I'm here?"
"Yes... he's here as well. He's gonna try to get you out of here"
Just as he finishes talking, the glass door sprung open. He gets in the cage and reaches for you but right as you reach for his hand, you remembered you weren't the same anymore, you were cursed, so you quickly pull your hand away. Your action causes the man to tilt his head in confusion.
"Do not worry, I'm not here to hurt you" He tries to take a few steps closer but you quickly stepped back.
"No.... no stop! That's enough!" You raised your hands gesturing him to stand where he's at.
"Don't touch me..." You added and he stares at you for a moment before taking a few steps back until he's out of the cage.
"Okay... but you must follow me. We don't have much time left" He said, walking out of the room and you hesitated for a while before following after him.
When walking down the hallway, you couldn't help but look around the area. This was your first time seeing the place you've been trapped inside for supposedly months. As you followed the strange man who saved you, you noticed that he seemed to be talking to someone over his earpiece. Was it Butcher?
After managing to sneak past several guards and having a few close calls, you two finally made it out from one of the back doors. You hurried as you followed the man somewhere. You couldn't believe it. The feel of the wind and the smell of the grass was making you wish you appreciated the outdoor more.
"Were you noticed?" His friend who's been on the look out asked. He shakes his head.
"No" After hearing his reponse, his friend turns to look at you.
"I'm M.M.... C'mon, your brother put in a lot to save you" He began walking away and the two of you simply went along.
He did?
"I haven't introduced myself. I'm Frenchie. It's nice to meet you" The man who saved you earlier said with a smile and you weakly smile back.
The moment the three of you reached a van parked in a safe area. The door slide open and your eyes widened once you were locked eyes with someone familiar. Yet he looked so much different now. He grew a beard. You had to admit, it made him look less ugly.
"(Y/N)..." He got out of the van and was ready to embrace you but you quickly avoided his grasp. This causes him to stand there with his arms hanging there awkwardly.
"Ooookay.... get in" M.M told Frenchie and they did just that, sliding the door close to give you both the privacy.
"All these years and you still hate your ol' brother" He jokes as he drops his hands down to his sides, but it was clear that he was upset at your actions and trying to hide it.
"Don't touch me"
"I got it"
The two of you stood there and you were staring at him a little too hard. Thoughts racing in your head like a racetrack. What the fuck has he been up to these years and how did he even find you?
"So... are we jus' gonna stand here and wait for 'em to realise you're missin'?" He nods at the facility nearby and you sigh.
"You're taking me home" You walked over to the passenger seat but the sound of Butcher clicking his tongue made you stop halfway in your tracks. Now you were standing in front of the van.
"Not gonna happen. Is your head loose of screws sis? They know who you are now, which means they know where you live. You're gonna be stayin' with me" He said.
Shit... there's really no chance of a normal life now. You really are cursed.
"Stay with you? With these guys?" You point at the van and from the front of the vehicle, you could see his friends all huddled in the back, the whole time they've been secretly listening to the conversation but once you pointed at them, they tried to act as though they haven't been doing so.
"They can protect you"
"I don't need protecting. The last thing I need is someone doing that"
"Oh really? Then mind sharing your experience in there? Was it a luxury? How much longer do you think you could have lasted if I hadn't found you" He took a few steps closer and you gave him a warning look.
"You're my sister... you think a few fights is gonna change that?" He tried reaching for your shoulder and you quickly dodged it. Failing to notice, tears were beginning to well up in your eyes because deep inside, you were desperately in need of comfort, a hug, anything physical but you couldn't even have that.
"You can't touch me... nobody can.... f-fuck... I killed my friend just by touching her..." You began to sob, your hands grabbing onto your face in an attempt to hide your expression. A frown appears on his face.
"What the fuck did they do to you...?"
"They made me a freak! They gave me these fucked up powers!! I don't want this...!" You cried, wishing this was another of your nightmares and that none of this was real.
"It's okay... come here..." He began to step closer to you but you were too numb from the feeling to even react.
Taking off his coat, he puts it securely around you before wrapping you in his arms. For the first time in months, you finally felt the presence of another person's embrace. The warmth felt so good. It was like you were melting from it. Your sobs grew weak as you nuzzle onto his chest, the fabric separating the contact of your skin with his. This was everything you needed right now.
"We'll get through this... these powers of yours ain't gonna scare me away" He said, rubbing your back gently.
"Thank you..." You muttered.
After you escaped and made it safely away from your prison. Homelander was alerted of your escape a few hours later. He arrives at the facility, walking down the hallway as the doctors walking by were scared to see him and trying their best to avoid his sight. Once he walks in the office of the head security, the man sprung up almost instinctly.
"Sir" He greets him. Homelander doesn't say anything but stare at him... before breaking into a smile.
"Great job, at least you're good at failing at your job. Now show me" He walks over to the guard's side who's hurrying to click a few things on his computer to show him what he came here for.
"The tracker we planted in her is working well and fine. She's currently in a vehicle heading somewhere"
"Good... it's like sending a cat to a bunch of rats" Homelander then gave the man a strong pat on the shoulder.
"Do we go after them sir?"
"No, keep an eye on her for now. I'll tell you when the time is ready" Without any further discussion, he left the office. A plan already set in his mind.
(I might make a part 2 but I'm not sure if anyone would be interested, it'll be sort of fluff where the boys figure out her powers, some angst? Idk, tell me if you think I should)
735 notes · View notes
ravengards-rogue · 9 months ago
Text
i lose control (when you're not next to me.)
javier escuella x reader
✧ tags : afab + fem!reader (gendered language + wearing dresses etc), established relationship, religious imagery (maybe sacrilege)takes place in ch.4 of rdr2, submissive!reader, soft dom!javier, some spanish petnames (mi amor mi vida, and hermosa i think), pillowing humping, penetration, very lovesick sex lol, veryy established dynamic, praise kink, written like. sooo explicitly for @nanamimizz, 18+
✧ wc : 5.2k (after editing mind you)
✧ a/n : this is fucking nuts LMAOO. i wrote this like. no bullshit in a day. i don't know how that happened. mentioned in the tags that this is for my beloved best friend but i think it's still okay to post. im losing it a little. i have hw due in an hour
✧ synopsis : javier can't help but feel some ways about the way you miss him. so dreadfully obedient. so apparently needy. how could he not adore you?
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆
There’s something a little pathetic in the way you pine after Javier that makes him a worse man than he is. 
He’s good to you though. Always. Down to his bones, the core of him. The soul of him. It’s hard to be anything but good to you. 
In all of his life, across lovers, men and women - he doesn’t think he’s met a single soul who simply likes him as much as you do. Who preens so pretty with so little, who doesn’t need much at all. Never met a woman who tucks and folds herself into corners just to be polite. Never thought he’d find it so fascinating, either - but you prove him wrong often. 
It’s testament to Javier’s adoration that he can’t help but notice you anyway. That even when your featherlight footsteps and darling voice fall off and get caught on the wind and blown away - Javier will still manage to find you. Even with all of your attempts to make yourself small and unrecognizable, his sharp brown eyes will still catch on the linen of your skirts and the threaded gold of your cross necklace. Javier’s own body betrays him in his love for you, in his wanting. 
Even though he’s not interested in pretending he doesn’t love you, his eyes and mouth and hands would look and call and search. They’d never give him the opportunity to be anything but in love. 
It’s important that he makes that known. He’s only ever interested in being a good man to you. Holding you and kissing you and worshiping you until you’re melty between his fingers. Javier loves loving the resistance out of you and you always make it so easy for him. 
He’s a good lover by nature and by practice. Passionate and maybe a little conceited, it’s not his first brush with romantics. He can only hope it’ll be his last. 
Even so, he’s never been liked the way you like him. 
You like Javier in a way you seem embarrassed by when you remember. It causes you to act in ways out of character on the surface, emboldened. Maybe just needy. Enough to bask in his praise and affection once a little liquor has touched your mouth. You like Javier in a way that makes you lovesick and puppylike, all honeyed gazes and pouty lips. He’s never met somebody who likes him the way you do, without grandstanding. Just pure, puppy love. Almost innocent if you don’t look too long. 
Almost being what matters most. 
Javier knows the way you were raised, after all. Knows the intimate ways in which you fold yourself and tuck your wants between the pages of your diary and slip your requests under your tongue. It’s hard for you to want for anything too much because you’ve been told your whole life that wanting at all is a sin. Wanting may even get you killed. A good woman should want nothing but salvation. Anything more than that is indulgence and there’s nothing good about that. It translates in the way you carry yourself. You’ll stop and fumble and shy away before even fixing your lips to ask, like you’re planning on being rejected or told no. 
A good girl like you being told no so often, it’s made you all sacrifice and empty prayers. Javier often feels grief about your lives before each other but nothing makes it so evident as that. A good woman, a beautiful and kind and soft one like you should never hear the words no without the best of reasons. That’s what Javier believes for all of his lovers, but you’re special. 
And that makes it worse. 
For you he’d do anything. No price he wouldn’t pay, no place he wouldn’t go, nothing that’s too far out of his reach. He thinks maybe he’s so eager to give it to you because he knows you don’t have it in you to take it yourself. You won’t whine greedily even if Javier tells you too, so Javier’s giving is only a partial virtue. It’s mostly pride, after all. It hurts his ego a little when you refuse to bask in the love he so enthusiastically wants to drown you in. 
Despite his complaints though, it’s a part of you that makes him so weak to you. That you want with such desperation but don’t allow yourself to take - so it makes you pliant and willing and terribly, adorably pathetic. You’re so weak for Javier. Just for him, you always say. Always with a hand in his, or wrapped around his bicep. All yours, Javi. Always his. 
That’s the thing. Javier wants to give everything in the world to you. He wants to be good to you, and he so often is. But you do things sometimes, all collapsed under the weight of your own desire that drive him insane. Make him act in ways he normally wouldn’t dream of doing. Depraved and filthy and unromantic in all senses of the word. 
It’s really not very polite for Javier to stand and watch you at his door - humping his pillow with weeps and huffs. It’s not kind to embarrass you. He’s a good man, and a good man would cover you with his coat and maybe smile about how much you care for him. 
But there’s just something about the look on your face when you do it, something about the tear stains in your lashes and the way your cheek is pressed in his jacket. Something about that needy, incessant little ache in your voice as you call and call and call for him. As if you’re hoping you’ll answer despite him not being there.
Javier is a good man to you. Maybe he could be better. Maybe he’s not good enough.  
He stands in the doorway of your shared bedroom with a soft, gentle grin. There’s no question he’s behaving a worse man than he is. Than he ought to be. 
He’s quiet as he shuts the door, balancing his weight to remain noiseless. 
Javier doesn’t particularly like being all the way out in Saint Denis nor is he fond of intel missions. The city is loud, the people unfriendly - though he likes the music and art. He prefers staying in camp if he can help it, but this big bank heist has everyone busy. He’s at least thankful that it’s given him an excuse to be with you. Your knowledge of herbs and poisons and the like have been helpful to gathering information. Been a lot of slipping things in drinks and making people forget. The sort of dirty work he’s accustomed too, while also getting a chance to be with you in a place with four walls and a bath. A dream for the future, maybe. 
It’s been nice, but he’s been out now for two days - out in the streets gathering information about Bronte’s people. A bunch of lowlifes just like them, but with their hands in the pocket of the city. He’s only been gone for two days, so there’s no reason you should miss him this much. And yet he hears it anyway. And it pleases him, truthfully. 
He takes off his coat as he listens to you at the doorway. Shrugs the middle-weight material of his sheen suit jacket over his shoulders and lays it on a chair, takes off his wingtip-gaiter shoes, undoes the yellow puff tie from around his neck. Nothing but a white linen dress shirt and the dark black slacks he’s been wearing for days now, some parts covered in bloodstains he only barely managed to wash out in the river not long ago. 
He’s thankful he took a bath before getting in now, listening to you moan. His hands being clean feel like a blessing - just his luck. 
He manages to remain quiet as he steps into the main room - a single bed in the center. Javier finds you there in a heap as he rests his body along the wall of the entrance to his right. He crosses his arms over his chest as he takes a minute to take in the scenery, admiring the soft lowlights and the way they cast shadow on your body. 
The wooden bed frame creaks slightly as you rut your hips. You’re out of it, Javier can tell, since you’ve yet to sense the fact he’s come in. The paintings along the back wall click against soft red walls themselves, over and over in an arrhythmic tic. Javier tries not to laugh. Gives himself a minute to admire the moment for what it is, the vulnerable desperation of your lust. He has to get over the disbelief, too. Over the fact your face is buried in the open part of his bluecoat and that you’ve got a hotel pillow(his hotel pillow) between your legs. One that you’re humping so frantically he can’t help but feel sorry for you. 
You’re making a mess.
You are a mess. The way the white chemise falls over your back and hips, and the lack of finesse in your gestures. If Javier had to bet money on it - he’d bet money on the fact you probably didn’t start this way. He figures you nested with his coat and pillow to go to sleep and then worked yourself into something senseless and desperate. And he’d figure if he didn’t show up, you wouldn’t cum at all. You’d go to bed all frustrated and tired and just wait for him like always. 
Any man would be pleased by it, he thinks. And a good one would never embarrass you about it. Javier tries his best. Weighs his options, but the words slip from his mouth before he can think to stop them. 
Pure elation in his words wrapped up in a smug delight. “Aye, hermosa - you’re gonna ruin my things you know?” 
Your reaction is what he expects. You jump out of your skin first, sitting straight up. Javier bites back a laugh as you do, big wide eyes like a deer caught in the scope of a rifle. You look around the room, worried you’re imagining him. Once you’ve come back to reality enough to realize he’s real and tangible - all the neediness washes right back into your expression. 
“Javier,” You sniffle and god. Javier hopes the heavens are more merciful to him than he is to you. “Javi,” 
“I’m home,” He voices in a partial tease, walking towards you. He can tell you want to run to him. To crawl into his arms and lap and collapse there forever, but the dull throbbing between your legs is stopping you. “I would ask if you missed me but, somehow I get the feeling you did.” 
You let out a soft, sniffly whine as Javier sits in the bed next to you. He turns his body to face you a little better but keeps distance. You turn your face towards him. Javier cups your cheek in his palm, eyes tracing your features. Your lips are bruised like you’ve been biting on them to keep the noise down and your eyes are wet with tears, red stained in the waterline. His thumb brushes along the thin skin of your lower lip, clicking his teeth at you. 
“Look at you,” He reprimands, his voice tender as he leans in to give you a little relief. You kiss Javier too eagerly, impatient and lacking your usual timidness. It’s how he knows how far you’ve fallen. How simple and easy your reactions are. “You’re going to hurt yourself pushing so desperately,” He laughs again, a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Does it feel good, at least?” 
“It’s better when you do it,” You admit, falling forward. Javier doesn’t let you drop, but he doesn’t comfort you right away either. He laughs and lets a hand rest on your lower back, relishing in your reaction. You shiver, sensitive and overstimulated with so little at all. 
“I know,” He coos with as much faux-sympathy as he can manage. “Couldn’t wait for me a little longer? I’m hurt.”
“Nooo,” You draw the words out, pitiful and upset “I’m sorry. I missed you,” 
“It’s okay,” Javier says, knowing he wasn’t mad in the first place. Not even a little. “Ahh, what should I do with you now, do you think?” 
It’s hard not to laugh at the immediate noise of disapproval. He’s sure you’d be able to ask him for what you want if he coaxed you into it. One whispered word of tell me what you want, and you’d be begging for his cock with ease. Filthy words from such a pretty mouth, he likes the idea. 
But he’s feeling… something. Something on the border of sadistic and loving that has him instead thinking. 
Pretending to think. 
“Maybe you should keep going, hm? You’ll think clearer once you’ve let it out, don’t you think?” 
“I can’t,” You bemoan, pleading with him. “I’m trying but it’s—it’s not enough, Javier, please.” 
He shakes his head. “Oh, man. What am I gonna do with you? Should I help you, mi amor?” 
You nod your head rapidly. As if he’d ever leave you out to dry when you look all pretty helpless. He doesn’t mention it to you. “Please,” 
“Yeah? I’ll help you then.” He offers, taking your hand and guiding you to his lap with his legs stretched out. He sits you over his thighs, glancing back at his jacket and pillow, brows raised when he sees how sticky they both are. Your habit of drooling and your cunt soaking his pillow case, he laughs just a little seeing the state of them. You must notice because you hit his shoulders weakly. “So needy,” 
“Javier.” 
“Alright, alright,” He laughs again, kissing your cheek as he brings you to him. You frown but comply with his handling of you, strong hands pulling you over his thigh. He sits you down until your bare cunt is pressed against the clothed muscle. It dawns on you what he’s doing as he’s doing it, a noisy little whimper sounding as Javier pulls you close. Close enough to wrap your arms around his neck. He puts a hand on the back of your head, encouraging you to bury his face into the space of his shoulder. He can feel the relief in you when you do, slumping into him a second time today. “You have to move on your own, you know? I won’t help you.” 
“You’re being awful,” You say with no real malice or bite. 
“I’m a little hurt, that’s all. And I’m helping you aren’t I? Is that not what you want?” 
You groan against the skin of his neck. “I want your…ngh,” 
He hums against you, decides to be merciful since he’s teased you plenty and he’s going to tease you more. 
“Wanna feel me right here, don’t you?” He puts a hand between your bodies, pressing the back of his hand into your stomach. “I know, I know. But I want you to cum like this first.”
“Can’t do it by myself,” You sniffle. Don’t even try to push back, so obedient and willing. Javier hums sympathetically. 
“I’m here right? I’ll help you, mi vida. I’m not that mean, am I?” 
You shake your head no. He most definitely is, but maybe he can keep that a secret from you a little longer. 
“Here,” He says. Javier pulls your chemise up until it’s pooling at your waist. Strong, tan hands hold at your hips, squeezing the soft skin with a warm sigh. You keen immediately. He pushes his thigh up just slightly to give you the right kind of friction. Hiccuping in his lap, he sets a pace for you to grind yourself on him. A slower back and forth. When you get too wet, too needy - you get sloppy. Sometimes he can give it to you hard and fast but you’re sensitive. Sensitive to the point it’s easy to make you hurt, make yourself hurt if you’re too clumsy. 
You’re always chasing pleasure but you don’t know anything about build-up. For a girl who tends to keep to herself and is always so meticulous - there’s something about seeing you get so sloppy that turns Javier on. When you’re wet and can’t think straight “Not too fast, okay? You’re sensitive, need it slow at first to make it feel good if it’s like this. Did you forget?” 
You nod, then moan hotly against his throat. Javier shivers at the way your tune changes. He can feel you breathe in his scent and relax as he guides your hips. He eventually stops touching you. Lets you take control of the pace just like he shows you. You manage to pace yourself despite how much you want to cum. Javier can feel how pent up you are. The fabric of his slacks going sticky, tacky from cum and arousal. 
You smell nice and soft, like baby powder and something floral. 
Javier’s been hard since he got in the door, but it’s starting to fog his mind up. Feeling your tits press against his chest, feeling your skin against his. Soft and pliant and beautiful. He kisses against your shoulders as you slowly start to build your orgasm up again. Not that it’s hard. 
You pull away from him, briefly - and your face makes his dick twitch. You’re always pretty but you’re especially pretty like this. Drool drips from the corners of your mouth, eyes lidded and barely blinking.
“Javi,” Your words are slurred. Javier laughs but doesn’t clean you up. “Kiss me,” 
“Sure,” He replies, though he’s all too happy to do it. Javier kisses you with tongue. He knows it’s what you want. Your hands curl up at his chest as he brings his own to cup your head and pull you to him. His tongue in your mouth is invasive but precise, knowing all the ways you want him to nip and kiss and suck on your mouth. You whine in complete pleasure, drunk from the sensation and he’s hardly touched you at all. 
He thinks of how he’ll fuck you as he kisses you. He’ll touch you more than he is now and you’ll fuck like lovesick rabbits until sunrise. It’s less something Javier decides and more something he knows. Like once he opens the door to pleasing you like this, it’ll be tough on him to close it again. 
“Javi,” You keep calling his name. It might be the only word you remember. Always seems to be when you get like this. “It feels so good. Feels so good when you touch me,” 
Javier kisses against your bare shoulder and neck, teeth scraping soft against your clavicles. “Mm. You’re doing well. A very good girl today,” 
You shudder at the praise, all the hairs on your neck raising from the drop of it. Javier laughs. You whine his name again but he doesn’t reply. He can feel you more than he can see you. Your body is twitching against his thigh and your muscles are tight where you hug against him. Javier calms you. 
“Gonna cum soon, huh?” 
You nod over and over, but can barely keep your head up to do it. And he laughs, full of fondness and affection as he peppers your face with kisses. He doesn’t have it in him suddenly, to tease you about it any more. He encourages you instead, hand on your hips to give you more friction as you start to grow erratic in your breathing. You pant hard against his ear, like you’re chasing something. Little bunny rabbit, he thinks. Your voice is little more than a croak. 
“Oh,” You moan, loud and helpless and needy as you cling to him. Your hands fisted in the back of his shirt as you cry out his name one more time. A prayer, maybe. Or a curse. Something in between. “Javier, oh,” 
“Shhh, that’s it. Just like that. Good girl. You’re so good to me.” 
You weep into his neck as you cum, your whole body tightening before breaking out into aroused shakes. You’ve completely lost it in front of him. On the brink of insanity with nothing but pleasure filling your empty-head. You hump against him thoughtlessly as you ride out your high, then finally lean against him when you’ve managed to reach the end of it. You don’t move. Javier can feel how big the wet patch of his pants has grown and tries not to laugh. 
You’re only barely coherent when you’ve finally pulled away. Your pupils are blown out and your face is flushed, sweat making your hair stick to your skin in the places it’s not tucked away. Javier laughs at the state you’re in, brushing his thumb along your cheek just beneath your eyes. 
“Are you with me still, do you think?” 
You nod, seemingly exhausted. He laughs again and kisses your temple. 
“Want you,” You say, despite your state. His eyes widen again at how soon after you’re asking him. He was planning on taking his time, but that plan might just be out of the race. He’s not above you begging him so sweetly. “Please, Javi. Need you, need you so bad.” 
You sound like you’re about to cry. He speaks in soft murmurs. “I thought you’d be too tired to keep going right away.” 
“No,” You mumble and shake your head. “Please. Please, want you so bad.” 
“You’re exhausted, mi vida.” 
“Please,” 
He chuckles. “Okay. Okay, don’t cry. Whatever you want, remember. Unbutton my shirt for me, mi amor.” 
You sniffle, your hands shaking as you fulfill his request. You’re exceptional at listening. Javier smiles at you, your eyes meeting as you do. You flush and pout, only barely managing to maintain his gaze without looking away. You unbutton his shirt dutifully. He puts a hand on your arm and rubs it soothingly. “You must’ve missed me a lot, huh.” 
You nod. “It’s bad, you know? Two days shouldn’t feel so long. It didn’t use too.” 
“Just means we love each other,” Javier assures, a safe place for you to express your neediness. “That’s nothing bad,” 
You nod, pressing your forehead to his. “That’s true,” 
“See? And it’s nice you know. Having someone miss me. Wait for me. Makes me want to come home instead of, I don’t know.” He feels his throat tighten at the sincerity but pushes through anyway “Dying for the cause. Or even just because.” 
It’s the first time you’ve smiled all day and god. Might be the only thing that’s ever mattered. Above all forms of love prior and past. Above revolution. Above god. Just you. You smile, happy and elated and keep unbuttoning his shirt with a coquettish-ness to you. Comfortable and safe. 
You help Javier out of his shirt, and wait for his approval to go after his pants. Undoing the buttons, you free his cock from the confines with a soft gasp. Javier laughs at the reaction, cat-like grin on his features. 
“Nothing you haven’t seen before.”  
“It’s so big,” You say, your hand wrapping around it briefly. Javier swears, head against the headboard. 
“Careful,” He warns, laughing thickly. “I’m pretty pent up too,” 
“Want it inside me,” You say so easily it startles him. You blink up at him through your lashes, too pretty for your own good. “Please?” 
“Should open you up a little.” 
“Want it to hurt,” You reply instantly. Javier feels his breath hitch. 
“Oh, fuck.” He breathes, trying to keep himself from cumming in your hands. “We’ll go slow.”
You nod quickly, not wanting to wait any longer. Javier curses himself for not being more polite. 
He guides your arms around his neck, his own arm around your waist as he lays you down on your back. You look up at him, surprised by his handling of you but not upset by it all. You mumble something he doesn’t catch, but it sounds pleased. 
Javier finds that he’s fond of missionary. He didn’t think he was the type, but there’s something about seeing you laid on your back that he likes. Likes being able to look at you and be close to you, to whisper sweet nothings in your ear as you curl into him. He lays you down gently on his spine, laughing at the way your legs wrap around his waist the second you’re comfortable. His hands go up under your knees but don’t push you too far. You spread your legs for him naturally, eyes fluttering with exhaustion and leftover stupid want. He looks down at you and smiles. 
“One more, okay? Just the one.” 
“I can’t,” You whine “Too sensitive. Just want you to cum on me,” 
“Are you doubting me?” He challenges, only partially. Your eyes widen and he chuckles. “Of course you can. One more,” 
You whimper, suddenly realizing you had no choice in the first place. But you nod, relenting to him like you so often do. Javier kisses you. It means more things that he’s comfortable telling. Means thank you, and that he’s sorry, that he loves you. He kisses you one more time after that, and smiles at how happy you seem because of it.
Finally, when Javier lays you down on the sheets beneath you - it feels like finding religion all over again. The loose material of your chemise has given up on covering you, exposing the soft mound of your chest and hardened nipples. He can see your neck and shoulders and everything else above and below. You’re so beautiful his cock twitches again, hard. 
He sits back up on his knees and takes a deep breath as he lays his cock against your puffy folds. You breathe soft, an aching sound from the back of your throat as you pull your skirt up to give him better access. He laughs gently at that, examining how nearly seven inches measures up to you and feels a little dizzy in the process of it. He’s done this with you so many times now, practically trained your body to take him without too much trouble. A welcome change from when you could barely fit the tip, too inexperienced to do it but even more determined. 
Even still some part of him worries about it. It’s not enough to stop him though, not nearly. His cock twitches against hard, wanting for you. He looks down at you and sees you stare up, admiring his figure. He laughs. 
“Like the view?” 
You nod. “Mm. Uh-huh.” 
“I’m glad,” He replies, then adds “Deep breath,” 
So you take a deep breath, and Javier pushes the tip of his cock into you with a loud grunt. You’re so soft. Wet, and pliant and soft around the swollen head of his cock, he can’t help but shudder with relief and desire. Can’t help but grit his teeth and grip onto your hips to steady himself. 
You breathe like the air has been punched out of your lungs, saying his name dreamily. “Oh, Javi,” 
He swears under his breath, something incoherent as he pushes the tip push into you evenly. It’s not easy. The resistance is there, but you don’t whine in pain right way - so it means it’s not too hard on you. Perhaps loosened by the previous orgasm, or simply so needy that it doesn’t bug you. Still, Javier makes sure to keep himself tight. He rocks, back and forth, ignoring the agony of that sensation to keep him from thrusting up into your soft, welcoming cunt. If he listened to what he wanted, he can’t be confident it wouldn’t make you ache. He already knows you will with this much. 
It takes a few minutes, and some whimpering from you before he finally manages to bottom out. 
You feel good. God, you feel good. 
He can’t imagine heaven, but he thinks being inside of you might be close enough. There’s certainly all the makings of religion when he makes love to you. You, a soft and loving deity, and him - a man laden with sin who longs to be saved. It makes sense to compare you that way. And it feels just as euphoric as the always described, being wrapped in you. Being part of your completion. What's religion without worshippers, anyway? 
Javier groans as he bottoms out inside of. When he manages to peel his eyes open and look at you, you’re debauched. He’s debased you this completely and he doesn’t know if you can even tell. He laughs, leaning down to kiss your neck and run pecks against your jaw. 
“Feel good?” 
“Feels so good,” You moan, then hold him tighter. “I love you. Love you Javier,” 
“Me too, mi amor. Para siempre. ” He hums, kissing your forehead before looking at you. “Can I move?” 
“Please,” 
“Touch yourself for me,” He tells you patiently. “Make yourself feel good.” 
You nod, dazed - a hand between your bodies as Javier sets a pace to fuck you. He knows you in and out. At least well enough to know exactly the ways to make you feel good. Only a few thrusts for him to find the perfect pace, perfect rhythm, perfect spot. You make a noise like a songbird, deep in the back of your throat and Javier can feel you pulse around him in pleasure. 
You stay like that, with him. Javier fucks you to his hearts content in deep, long thrusts - angled against the softest parts of you and wanting to make you feel good. He whispers sweet nothings as your nails dig into the muscle of his back. You feel good for him. You are good for him, wet and perfect. It takes all of his strength to fuck you consistently, the bed rocking underneath you both as he gives it to you hard. 
“I’m close,” You whimper, not seeming to believe yourself despite. “I’m so close, oh god, Javier.” 
“That’s it,” He whispers, chuckling against your skin “One more. Just one more and I’ll give it to you.” 
It’s the promise of his cum that drives you over the edge. You gasp and groan, shuddering as Javier pounds you through your second orgasms. He groans as he feels your pussy spasm and tighten around him, practically begging him to put it inside. He’s nearly lost his sense enough to do it, unhelped by the way your sweet voice begs him for it. He practically has to pry himself away from you, out of you to keep himself from cumming inside as deep as he can possibly go. 
He manages, barely, to stave off his own orgasm. Long enough pull himself out of you with a broken gasp and cum outside of you. Making a mess of your stomach and your soft, swollen cunt with his seed. He paints you in thick ropes of whites as he swears loud in the process, euphoria rumbling through him uninterrupted. 
“Fuck,” He moans, finally getting to the end of it. A little embarrassed by how much of a mess he’s made right along with you. “You do something crazy to me, you know that?” 
You stare at him, bleary eyed and giggly despite your exhaustion. “I know. Me too. I missed you,” 
He laughs, and can’t find the words to say anything but the same back. Of course Javier is a worse man when you’re around. 
Any man loved this much is bound to be a little ruined. 
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆
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wonwoonlight · 2 years ago
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when he finds out you're sick through the internet
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A/N: idol!au. OC is also a celebrity though I don't explicitly say what. tiny teensy angst bc cheol is a worried Boyfriend💔 1.5k words! another random word vomits bc that's the only way i know how to write now lol idk why but everytime i write this kinda fic it's always seungcheol looooooooooooooool. not proofread, but enjoy!
[part 2]
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Seungcheol doesn't really get angry.
For the three years you've known him in which you've dated him for two, you've only seen him actually get angry a total number of three times. None of them was directed at you, and all of them are for reasons that you would've exploded upon way before he did.
Seungcheol is patient and rational.
Seungcheol is normally patient and rational.
But he's never normal when it comes to you. And even though the patient bit still stands, nothing about his feelings towards you is ever rational. He's a little too emotional, a little too rash, and a little too worrisome when it comes to your wellbeing.
So when he's relaxing in the practice room during a break with his members, for once not on his phone because he's charging it somewhere on one of the tables, and he hears Seungkwan gasps a little upon his phone, he thinks there's another scandal blowing up upon the industry. But when the younger guy's blown out eyes meet him, colors drained from his face, Seungcheol hates that he knew it could mean one thing: something happened to you.
He shoots up almost immediately, not registering any words that come out of Seungkwan's mouth. His hands shake a little when he unlocks his phone, and his heart drops when he reads the official post from your company's twitter account that states your current condition, that you might need to pause your activities for the time being due to health reasons, apologizes for the worries, and asks for the fans' understanding.
He wants to get angry.
At who, he’s not sure.
At your company, for pushing you even though they know your schedule is practically inhumane? At your manager, for not making sure that you have decent rest in between schedules? At you, because he’s been telling you to fucking stop running towards whatever goal you have in mind but you insist that you know your limit and you’ll know when to stop?
Apparently, no you fucking don’t because else this wouldn’t have happened.
The rest of the members look at him in worry, and Jeonghan silently walks to their manager and the other staff to let them know about the situation at hand, that Seungcheol would probably not be in his best state to continue practice at the moment. The leader would probably insist that they continue anyway, but they’ve practiced for almost five hours already anyway and they could spare an hour or two for the leader when it’s clear that he’s worried beyond measure.
Seungcheol bites his lip as he tries to call you, his concern skyrocketing by the seconds the longer the beeping sound goes, no sign of you picking it up. He tries one more time, but you still don’t answer and he’s about to hurl his phone at the wall when your manager calls him instead, tells him that he sees his name flashing on your phone, informs your whereabouts, and that he should just drop by your place in a few hours if he wants to see you because right now you’re still sleeping in the car and he’s taking you home.
He finds it hard to say anything, a lump growing in his throat until he manages to swallow it down and ask how you’re doing right now.
“She’s… exhausted.” Your manager says quietly. “I know it’s my job to take care of her but… you know her. She didn’t tell me that she’s been having a hard time sleeping at night the past few weeks and it finally took a toll on her.”
It’s hard to suppress his anger, his breath heavier than usual though it’s not too noticeable unless they know Seungcheol. He wants to scream at your manager, but he knows it won’t do anyone any good and it’s really not the time nor the place for that. So he mutters a quiet ‘thank you’ before he hangs up, his members looking at him with a mix of worry and understanding when he looks up at them.
“Go.” Soonyoung says. “We’ve practiced enough today. Take care of your girlfriend and tell us later.”
Seungcheol nods and sprints out of the room, beyond thankful that his members always have his back.
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Seungcheol is glaring at you when you wake up, though the way his thumb is still softly caressing your head and the worry in his eyes clearly tell you that his anger is nowhere near his distress. 
You offer him a weak smile, unable to defend yourself because you know what his eyes are scolding you for.
“Sorry?” You whisper and immediately cringe at how dry your throat feels.
He doesn’t say anything as he helps you sit down and hands you your favorite mug. Taking in the moment, you frown at how weak you feel, though you really only have yourself to blame because you genuinely thought you’re okay and you can take it.
You know it’s on you for taking as many schedules as possible, practically everything that your company offers you even when your manager says he doesn’t think it’s physically possible for you to do all that in such a short span.
Thinking about it now, you realize that your manager and the rest of your team also gets the short end of the stick through your decision. Him, your make up team, and your stylists would all need to be with you and your ambition forgets to consider their wellbeing even when you wrongly claim you would be able to handle it.
Guilt starts to eat you inside out, and it grows even larger as you see Seungcheol in front of you–didn’t he say he had practice today?–his face screams distressed and his shoulders tense since God knows when.
“Hey, talk to me.” He says softly when he notices you’ve been spacing out and you’re nibbling on your lip like you would when you’re anxious, taking away your mug before enveloping your hands with his.
You tear up almost immediately, and he moves to sit on the edge of your bed to usher you into his chest, patiently listens to your nonsense as you try to talk through your tears. He gets the gist of it: sorry–manager–company–wellbeing–my team–didn’t think it through–made you worry–overestimated myself–sorry–and the list goes on. He exhales as he hugs you tighter, both understanding and upset at the turns of events.
Being in the same industry, he gets what you’re trying to do, understands that you feel the need to keep on running while you’re able to, relates that you’re doing everything for yourself and your fans. But still, it’s hard not to be upset to know you’re pushing yourself too hard when he’s been telling you there’s no need to run as fast as you are without resting; that you’ll only hurt yourself one way or another and he hates that the one time he needs to be right, it’s this.
You end up laying down against his chest on your bed, hiccups and sniffles filling your bedroom along with a random song he’s humming against your head. You pull away to properly look at him, the first time you’re doing it since you woke up earlier, and his hum stops in question.
“Thank you.” You manage to whisper, your fingers grasping the front of his shirt without even realizing. “For being here when I woke up.”
He shakes his head like he doesn’t understand why you’re thanking him, simply leans down to plant a long, chaste kiss against your forehead before he pulls up your blanket so it’ll cover you properly.
“Just… don’t surprise me like that again, okay?” His breath is warm against your face, pleasantly so, and you nod as you promise him that you’ll take better care of yourself moving forward. 
“Are you staying the night?”
“Yes, I’ll return to the dorm the day after tomorrow. They’ve given me a day off.” You cringe at his words, though thankful that he’s been in the industry long enough to attain that kind of privilege. But still, you feel bad that you’re obstructing his practice and his members just because you’re foolish enough to– “Hey. Stop. I know what you’re thinking. No need to feel bad. I’m actually glad I get to rest with you.”
“But–”
“No buts. The kids can do without me for a day.” He playfully bumps his forehead against yours, his lips hover above yours merely centimeters apart.  He doesn’t meet your lips, though he kisses their corner sweetly and wraps you back into his embrace to the point where there’s no space between you two. “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“Good night, Cheol.”
“Night, baby.”
“See you in my dream?”
“I’ll see you anywhere you want me to be.”
He hugs you tighter, and you try your best to return the gesture despite the awkward position of your arms. It’s uncomfortable and you’re sure your arms will be sore the next morning.
But you wouldn’t have it any other way. Not when you succumb to sleep and find Seungcheol smiling at you on the other side of your dream, as real as he can be.
cont.
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alaskan-wallflower · 6 months ago
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lol crying headcanons??
Ponyboy Curtis
He is a quiet crier
Like he just sits with his mouth slightly open and his eyes shut for a moment before he just lets out the quietest, most pitiful sob you’ve ever heard
He’s very sniffly and gaspy when he cries
I feel like he’s the type to apologize for crying because he has a toxic mindset when it comes to emotions
“I’m sorry, I *gasp* don’t know wh- *gasp* what happened, I…”
He can’t even finish his thoughts
He kinda likes to be held when he cries. He never openly admits it but the gang knows he just likes to be hugged so he can bury his face in someone’s shoulder
NEVER cries in public. Ever.
He waits until he gets home and locks himself in his room
Sodapop gets to him the fastest in terms of calming down. Darry is still learning but he’s Pony’s second best bet
He always cries after a nightmare. Every single time.
Soda wakes up almost every night to Pony’s face buried in his chest while he just trembles and he feels his chest getting wet with tears and snot
He doesn’t mind at all
One time Pony actually went to Darry and nearly scared the shit out of him until Darry realized it was just Pony
Hes very hiccupy too when he cries
Sodapop Curtis
Oh my god, the loudest crier you’ll ever hear
He sounds like he’s being strangled when he cries (out of sadness or anger at least)
Hes a huge bawl baby. I’m sorry. Even as a baby he constantly screamed and cried.
When he’s genuinely sad he literally just dinks to his knees. He’s not even trying to be dramatic. It’s like everything is weighing on his so hard he can’t stand up
When he’s angry crying that’s when you know he’s on the verge of yelling. He only goes off on Pony and Darry one time and it was directly after the death of their parents because Pony said something downright nasty to Darry about how if it weren’t for his birthday their parents would be alive and Darry shoots back with if Pong used his head more maybe they wouldn’t have had to go back for it
And Soda just bursts into tears and blows up
“SHUT THE FUCK UP! BOTH OF YOU! YOU DONT FUCKING TALK LIKE THAT ON MY PARENTS NAMES! YOU DONT FUCKING DO THAT! THEIR DEATHS WERE NEITHER OF YOUR FAULTS SO DONT YOU DARE FUCKING SAY THAT! DONT SAY THEIR GODDAMN NAMES IF YOURE JUST GONNA USE THEM IN YOUR ARGUMENTS! DONT EVER SAY THEIR FUCKING NAMES AGAIN!”
Pony and Darry just go quiet because Soda is standing there trembling like a chihuahua, tears streaking down his cheeks, his blonde hair a mess and his cheeks red as he quietly gasps for air and hiccups between words
That was the only time he ever really fully angry cried
When he happy cries he’s a straight up delight
His cheeks get all rosy and he has this big smile and he just lets out a mic between a laugh and a sob as he gathers whoever made him happy enough to cry in a bone crushing hug
Hes genuinely a pretty crier (fuck him honestly like stop being pretty for two seconds god)
His cheeks get all red and his brown eyes get all glimmery. He’s straight out of a fucking soap opera I swear
Bro uses up all his fuel crying. Whatever emotion it is afterwards he’s always like “Darry I want food :/“
Darry Curtis
Darry like…never cries. Ever.
But honestly? When he does cry he’s having a full blown mental breakdown or something has to happen to make him cry
In the book, Pony kinda said his chest shook when he sobbed and I kinda see that happening
He tends to tremble a lot when he cries. His hands get all shaky. That’s usually the first indicator he’s working himself up.
Second indicator is that his legs start bouncing and he starts pacing like a caged animal
Then he just starts sobbing. And it’s rough.
Like in the book I feel like when Pony came back he just ended up holding Pony in a bear hug while he ugly cried into Pony’s shoulder
He’s kind of a mess when he’s crying
He tries to soothe himself but honestly it doesn’t really work. So Sodapop takes over for a bit.
Soda knows exactly what to do and post book, Pony starts helping more too
Soda is the one to ground Darry when he cries. He’ll hold Darry, rub his back, rub his neck, play with his hair, whatever
Pony is more vocal. He helps bring Darry back to reality because usually Darry’s crying bouts come from anxiety and things from the past that pop up and give him a hard time
Pony knows all the breathing exercises and tends to help Darry out a lot with regulating breathing
Darry honestly just needs alone time after he cries. He cries so hard sometimes he just needs to go to sleep after
When this happens, Soda and Pony will do little things around the house. They fold the laundry, wash the dishes, one time they even deep cleaned his truck
They also leave little notes of envouragment around where they know Darry will see it. That also helps calm him down.
maybe i’ll make a pt 2 lol
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menlove · 6 months ago
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one thing that adds to credibility of Paul being closeted imo, is that often he is thought of as having this internalised homophobia, if not homophobia itself, because he always mentions how un-gay he is whenever some gay subject comes up in interviews
but like, there are so many things that disprove him being homophobic, it's not even funny. going to Paris alone with gay men? Paul did that two times (three if we count John lol) and that Peter Brown story is incrediblyy suspect. what homophobic man, scared of gay, sits on the bed of his male employee and his male fling that casually late at night in his hotel room and chats them up?
most likely reason, combined with his incredibly suspect lyrics, is that he is so defensive about his sexuality because he has something to hide
THATS WHAT IIIIIM SAYING!!!! like he is so comfortable w gay people and gay culture which on its own isn't suspect but it Is when people insist he's homophobic as a Reason He's Repressed Not Closeted. and once again I must remind everyone that john nearly beat a man to death for calling him gay and was still undeniably queer.
it's just like. imagine for a moment. with me. everyone hold my hand. not claiming this is true but walk w me along this path to get to current paul that isn't "he's just repressed and stupid and doesn't even know he's bi" but is instead MY speculative timeline (somehow this turned into a mini fic or something god help me but I'M SO SERIOUS IM SO SERIOUS THIS WOULD MAKE THE MOST SENSE TO ME WALK WITH ME HOLD MY HAND)
you are born in the 1940s. you are raised by a strict man who was physically abusive & in a culture that hates gay people. you grow up watching people get killed for being queer and being bullied over your feminine features that people think make you queer. you hit puberty and Shit Gets Harder because you start finding other men hot. elvis, for one! when you're 15 you start seeing a boy around that you think is hot and it turns out he's in a band and you fall in love with his looks and his voice and then him. and he's just as insane about you. you start doing increasingly sexual things together. eventually, you're having a full blown sexual affair. while writing love songs together and growing up together. and then he gets his girlfriend pregnant. and marries her. and you lose him, a little bit. he goes off and has an affair with your gay manager & when he gets home he ruins your birthday party by nearly beating a man to death for bringing it up. you wonder what he'd do if anyone found out about the two of you too.
and then the insane happens and you end up The Most Famous Band In The World. the ENTIRE world is watching your every move. the entire world loves you. they wouldn't love you if they knew. you get a girlfriend and it's convenient because she's always gone and you're always alone. but you still have him. and other girls. through everything, you have each other. even when he says something stupid and the world wants all of your heads on a platter and he starts to fall into a depression, you still have each other. even if now you Know how bad it could be if they ever found out. and then your manager, your father figure, an openly gay man, dies. and it's not a suicide, but a lot of people think it is, and sometimes you wonder, and fuck it's terrifying, isn't it? the reality of your life, the reality of loving Him, the reality of being queer. what if that winds up being You? you start to lose Him a little bit more as you throw yourself into your work and push everyone way too hard. you propose to your girlfriend. and then you do lose Him. to a woman. which was sort of unthinkable because he was already married and never cared about her, just you. never cared about any women, just you. but he cares about Her. and you fucking lose your mind. lose yourself in drugs. blow up your engagement. propose to another girl and many more "jokingly". your one girlfriend says you had to try again or you would have gone "raving queer" and killed yourself. the whole time you're losing Him more and more. suddenly he's looking at Her like he used to look at you. you're no longer his world and what the fuck do you have? a bunch of girls you don't care about and a drug problem? and then you meet a woman who, according to you, is more woman than anyone else. she's a mother already, a family ready made when you've always wanted one. she's smart and she's funny and she's quick and you let yourself cling to her because you don't have Him and he has Her so you've got to have someone, don't you? and she winds up pregnant and that's great, that's wonderful, you're no longer in danger of dying alone and queer and sad. you've lost Him by now completely, even though you have about a month where things feel a little less awful again and you perform together one last time. you marry her and you ASK people, flat out, if they expected you to be a 26 year old unmarried queer. you fight the night before you're married for some unknown reason, so badly she almost leaves you. and then He marries Her, and everything is fine. and then it all falls apart completely. you at least had Him as your friend, your writing partner, the other half of you legally. and then he asks for a divorce. and the world ends. you don't have the band, you don't have Him, you don't have anything. you stay in bed all day, drinking, miserable. like a breakup, not just of the band.
eventually, your wife pulls you out of it. you survive. you start writing again. you write to him. you put two beetles fucking on the cover of your second album and he thinks a song you wrote about your wife's ex is about him (and maybe it is, a little) and he shoots right back. and you keep that up for a decade. writing to each other. seeing each other only in the news and in snatched moments together where nothing is the same as it was. you plead with him through your music: why do you hurt me so bad? call me, pretty baby. I'm waking up screaming over you. I can't tell you how I feel. you try and make things like they were, even a little, showing up to his house with your guitar like you're 15 again, but he sends you away. in all that time, he's basically gone to conversion therapy. he's with someone who makes disparaging remarks about his sexuality. for you, you've let yourself embrace being a bit campy, but you still can't bring yourself to be open about any of it. not with anyone but your wife.
and then you start talking again. you make up. things seem hopeful. it seems like he might still love you and he writes you a song about starting over with you. and then he's murdered. and it's senseless. it's so so senseless. and it's unfair. you lock yourself away for days listening to that song he wrote you. the media tears you apart for grieving wrong. they wish you died instead. they think you're cold. you never loved him, not like he loved you. you write a song, with tear marks on the page, telling him how much you DID love him. all the things you'd say to him if he were there with you. you write more songs about that, all centered around that theme. some of them you say are about him. others you don't. once, you say if anyone catches on you can just deny it. but he wrote you love songs too, apparently, for you, and you eventually record them with your old band
and the thing is, You are one of his widows. his name follows yours every time it leaves someone's mouth. he's all anyone ever talks about with you. he's all you want to talk about too. his legacy is your legacy. he's no longer here to tell people about his sexuality, he's no longer here to consent to everything that you were being told. he's not here. and how can you even begin to mention Your Own sexuality without bringing him up? you owe him more than outing him in death. you owe Her more than that too, because you were already cruel to her and so was the world. she's grieving just like you, you can't do that. your wife dies, and now you're her legacy too and you being queer would seem like a betrayal to her. your best friend dies, and now he's your legacy too. you aren't just you- you're Him, you're 1/2 of the living members of the most famous band to ever exist, you're Her, you're your dead wife
so when someone asks you about him. when someone asks you about being gay or calls him the love of your life. What Exactly Are You Supposed To Say?
I wouldn't say shit either
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carmenberzattosgf · 10 months ago
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Carmy trying to make reader squirt 🤭 it somehow comes up casually and reader is like “oh yeah lol it happened to me once a few years ago but idk how the hell I did it” and Carmy just like short circuits 💀 then he hyperfixates on it for 3 days and when he finally has some time off bro is DETERMINED to make reader do it again. Like brows furrowed in concentration. Fingering them like no tomorrow and breathing heavy. Overstim and talking them through it. Praise. 🫣
Oh my god. ( this is not proofread it is literally 2am)
Carmy’s not super experienced. We all know this. In all honesty he barely knows what squirting is. He thought it was just a thing in porn, until it came up in a conversation between you two.
“I’m pretty sure it happened to me once a few years ago, but I have no clue how I did it.”
“W-wait what? I thought that only happens in porn.” His cheeks begin to flush as he thinks about it. You, with your fingers curling up inside of you, gushing onto the sheets below you.
You giggle at his pure cluelessness. “It can happen, it’s just not common. Some girls can’t do it at all. I didn’t realize I could until it happened.”
“Oh.”
Needless to say Carmen cannot get the idea out of his mind. It literally haunts him at work. He wants to make you squirt. He needs to.
Carmy being the nerd that he is researches the hell out of it, making sure he knows exactly what he’s doing. That Saturday on his day off, he’s determined to make it happen.
His lips are on yours the second he finishes cleaning up the kitchen from cooking dinner. His mouth moves sloppily against yours, teeth clashing together.
“Carm—“ you manage to break away from his eager lips for a brief moment. “What’s the rush? We can calm down a bit, you know. We have all night.”
“I wanna make you squirt. I’ve been— thinking about it non-stop for the past few days. I can’t fucking think straight. Can I? Please?”
How can you refuse him when he’s looking at you with those desperate blue eyes. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”
You and Carmy work together to remove your clothes. He has you lay down on your back with your knees spread wide. He sits beside you, still fully clothed. “J-just tell me if you want to stop.”
His middle and ring fingers press into your soaked core with no hesitation. Carmy’s studying you, the facial expressions you make, and the way your cunt pulses around his fingers. His movements are slow and gentle at first, but that changes quickly. He quickens the thrust of his fingers while hooking the two fingers upwards. Carmy’s searching for that rough spot, and by your reaction, he knows he found it.
“Carmy! Fuck—“ you hand aimlessly searches for something to hold onto to steady yourself. Carmen offers his left hand, which you grip tightly.
Once he finds the spot, Carmy locks into focus. His thrusts are deliberate, alternating between speeds and making sure to apply pressure. Your hips move out of their own volition. “That it, baby? That feel good?” He asks. His voice his smooth, but you don’t miss the way he’s biting his lip in concentration. His brow is furrowed and sweat collects on his forehead.
“Yes, Carm. Please. Please don’t stop.”
“Wasn’t planning on it. I’ve got you.” Carmy continues to pleasure you, only stopping for a brief moment when you neared your climax. He softly shushes your whimper of complaint. “I know, baby. Trust me. You can trust me.”
His pace picks back up before you even know it. His fingertips move at lightening speed, pressing hard at the rough patch at the top of your core. Carmy looks like pure sex, and you’re not even pleasuring him. His face is completely flushed as he breathes heavily, panting for hair. Sweat is starting to pool off of his brow and down the side of his face. His eyes are blown out; only a small sliver of the blue still visible.
“Carm— I’m close. Please I’m so close. Fuck!” Your cries are nearly incomprehensible. Your hips buck against his fingers.
“Cum. Gush around my fingers. Make a fucking mess.”
“Shit— Carmen—“ you moan as your orgasm over takes you. You shutter as you feel liquid spill between your legs. It’s euphoria like you’ve never felt before.
“Good girl! Fuck. That’s it. Keep cumming for me. Don’t stop soaking my fingers, baby,” Carmy praises, watching you in awe. You clutch onto his body as more spurts leave you. He hasn’t slowed down his fingers at all. It’s all becoming too much.
“T-too much—“ you try and tell Carmy, but he doesn’t slow down immediately.
“I’ve got you. You can take it.” He’s still watching your cunt at your hips recklessly move against his hand. He can’t believe he made you squirt. He wants to stay in this moment as long as possible.
After he’s finally decided you’ve had enough, he removes his fingers from you. As if on autopilot, he places the digits in his mouth, licking the remnants of your slick off of them. You pull him down by the back of his neck to kiss him deeply.
“Fuck, Carm. That was— I don’t even know what to say.” You don’t need to think of anything else, though, because Carmen does the rest of the talking.
“You did so good for me. Holy shit that was—God, you’re so fucking pretty. I want to do that over and over and over—“
“Woah let’s slow down a sec. I need to remember which side is my left or or my right first.”
“Sorry… got a little bit excited.”
From then on Carmy loves to make you squirt. His favorite thing to do is bring a mirror into it, so you can see how fucking gorgeous you look squirting around his fingers. Also he definitely starts to try and learn how to make you squirt with his cock after this….
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hausofwoo · 5 months ago
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strapped | park seonghwa
pairing: seonghwa x afab reader
word count: 612
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, literally just a pwp blurb, seonghwa sucking a strap on, sub!seonghwa, begging, finger sucking, hair pulling, use of petname (sweetheart)
author's note: i had the thought of seonghwa sucking a strap-on pop into my head and i had to write it out asap. very short but juicy! there will be plenty more sub!seonghwa fics from me but here's just a little taste....
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seonghwa is so desperate to please you.
he sits on his knees on your shared bedroom floor, hands tied behind his back and head tilted back, looking up at you standing over him. his skin is glistening with a sheer layer of sweat and his hair is a ruffled mess from all your pulling and tugging. he’s free of all of his clothing, but his erection throbs in need.
“please,” seonghwa begs. “i’ll do whatever you want, just please touch me.”
“not yet, sweetheart,” you say, running your fingertips along the side of his jaw. his eyes are fixated on you with pupils completely blown. you place your fingers on his soft lips, prompting him to immediately open and take them in his mouth. he runs his tongue along your digits before sucking on them, eye contact persisting. you replace your two fingers with your thumb, prying open his mouth so he can take your strap.
“do something for me first, baby,” you say, watching as he lays his tongue flat for you. “suck.”
you guide your strap’s tip to his mouth, and he takes it eagerly. his plump lips enclose around the tip and gradually takes the length. he reaches the base of the strap, deep-throating it. he hums in satisfaction. he continues to bob up and down, sucking. he’s making a fucking mess, with spit covering his lips and dripping down his chin. he doesn’t seem to care anyway, with his muffled moans filling up the room.
he pulls off the strap completely, a string of saliva still connecting to his lips. he drags his tongue on the underside, making his way back to the tip before taking it into his mouth again.
yeah, maybe getting your strap sucked doesn’t physically stimulate anything for you, but seonghwa loves putting on a show for you. he loves to be degraded by you, to feel pathetic under your touch. something completely takes over him, and all he can do is follow your every order. he’s like a puppy; just so fucking eager. you love it too, being able to control what he does. it comes so naturally for you to push him around, and it only makes it ten times hotter when you notice it makes him twitch.
you grip his hair, pushing his mouth as far down on the strap he can go. his eyes roll back and he lets out a loud moan onto the toy. you yank him back off, watching his half-lidded gaze up at you as spit spills out of his swollen red lips. the saliva drops onto his crotch, right on the tip of his aching cock.
“oh fuck,” he groans, knitting his eyebrows together. his hisses, partly from pain, and the other part from pleasure. this whole time, during the teasing and the foreplay and now while giving your strap head, he’s been painfully hard. you haven’t touched him once, and it’s starting to feel excruciating. he lifts his hips, thrusting his leaking cock into the air, searching for some sort of stimulation. he squirms under your hand, leaning his head back and whining. he looks back up at you with probably the most pathetic look you’ve ever seen.
“you want me to touch you, don’t you, baby?” you say, moving your grip from his hair to caress his face.
“please,” seonghwa says, tears welling up in his eyes. his hips continue to thrust in the air slowly, cock twitching. “i’ve been so good…”
“you have been good, haven’t you?” you say. “let me take care of you…”
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a/n: guys don't hate me i know it's short!!!! i was on vacay in chicago to see ateez and it gave me inspo and i had to write it out before i lost my mind. i have another fic in the works rn but i wanted to release this so u bitches had something while u wait lol
✰taglist✰ @skz1-4-3 @oddracha @luvbit3z @tunafishyfishylike @seomisaho @haizbby @hoeforalbedo @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna
add me to the taglist!
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runa-falls · 1 year ago
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lost
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summary: sweet steven gets lost in the moment then apologies because he thinks he went too far...
cw: explicit (18+), slight dacryphilia, overstimulation, degrading words, oral (m receiving), rough handling, soft aftercare/apologies, FLUFF (WHERE TF DID THAT COME FROM???)
a/n: i keep thinking ab this thot, but i never posted it as a fic so i have a hard time finding it lol. so im just gonna put it up for my own reasons...
masterlist
----
it took steven a few moments to get used to your touch again. he already came in your hand, overwhelmed by your soft touch and adoring coos, just wanting to be the best boy for you even if it meant cumming in just a handful of minutes.
and though he protested, hips bucking with whines of overstimulation, he couldn't stop you from warming him in your mouth until he got hard again.
now, he is thoroughly using your mouth, pushing in harshly until your lips meet the base of his cock, his tip hitting the back of your throat. your eyes water as he continues to press in deep, tears glazing over your blown out pupils before they slide down your cheeks and onto his bare thighs.
he goes feral when he sees it, when he feels your warm tears pool on his sensitized skin. your dripping red eyes look up at him, begging for his praise, and he can't look away. your puffy lips are wrapped perfectly around him.
he uses both hands to hold your head steadily, fingers threading at the base of your hair as he snaps his hips against your face, fucking you harsh and deep like he would your cunt.
his eyes squeeze shut and brows cinch together as he feels your slick hot throat struggle to keep up with his pace. he loves the way you moan around him, how the vibrations travel from your throat to his cock, coaxing him to the edge in record time.
his movements stutter when you attempt to swallow around him, he wasn't prepared for how tight your throat would get. his hands fist tight at your hair to keep him from cumming too soon, desperately holding on to this feeling of pure ecstasy for as long as possible.
he's lost in pleasure when calls you needy and pathetic, his voice raspy and breathless, as if he isn't begging for it himself. he chides you for how desperately you need his cum to fill your throat, how greedy you are to suck him off right after he came.
he cums with a groan, holding you close so he can spill deep at the back of your throat. you swallow obediently, releasing his cock from your mouth with a sigh. you sniffle, still recovering from how rough he was being, not that you minded. you love when steven loses control. you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, cum and saliva thickly coated over your lips and chin.
your jaw is supremely sore, not used sucking him off for more than one round, but the pain instantly subsides when you look at your ruined boyfriend heaving in front of you. he looks so ravaged with his flushed cheeks and fluffy hair. who knew a sweet, gentle man like steven could be so depraved?
his eyes barely flutter open when he hears you get up and place yourself on his lap. you cuddle against him, face smooshing against the crook of his neck. he hums, wrapping an arm around you, exhausted, but happy you're near.
he hears you sniffle again and pulls back from your body.
"darling, are you ok?" his eyes were gushing with concern as he attempted to wipe away any residual tears.
"yeah--" you croak out.
oh, you sound terrible. you try to clear your throat, wincing slightly when it elevates the soreness of your throat.
"i-i'm fine, steven." your voice wavers a little bit, but you still smile up at him.
steven looks at you like you're insane and he shakes his head, "i-i think i went to hard."
"n-no, i liked it!"
"sweetheart, i can barely hear what you're saying. i think i've messed up your throat!"
"steven, i wanted this." he doesn't look convinced, head tilted down in shame, so you continue, "and...it's kinda sexy don't you think? me, barely able to talk because you were fucking my throat?"
his hands squeeze your waist at your words.
"...sexy?"
"yeah. you were so rough with me today. it felt like you needed me." you grin, "like you really love me."
"i do, i-i really do love you." a blush blooms at the tops of his cheeks as he starts to gush at you, "i just-- you felt so good around me, your hot mouth and pretty lips, and i couldn't take it. i wanted more, anything you'd give me, and you did...you gave me everything."
you swoon at your boyfriend's admission, loving how honest he can be. "i love you too, baby." you lean in, lips brushing his, "and i'd do it again."
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scudslut · 1 year ago
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A New Years Surprise 🎀
daryl x fem!reader
warnings: 18+, poorly written smut, oral (fem-receiving), unprotected p in v, porn with some plot lol
a/n: i know i’m a little late but happy new years everyone!:) thought i’d start off on the right foot this year with some Daryl lovin<3 also don’t mind my writing i’m just getting back into it so i’m a bit rusty:/
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“God, you’re such a dumbass,” you muttered to yourself, cringing at the reflection staring back at you.
Currently, you were a mess.
Tonight was Alexandria’s supposed ‘New Years Eve’ celebration, like we actually had anything to celebrate or look forward to.
There were always those few people you’d come across over the years, that had somehow managed to keep track of the time passed and as it turns out, Alexandria’s people were very serious when it came to sticking to the old worlds holidays and traditions.
Hell, they’d host parties and backyard shindigs on a regular bases, no prompt needed.
It was bizarre, and even after a full year living here, you still weren’t used to it.
Deep down, a small sliver of you agreed that it was something special about this place. That it somehow kept the hopeful humanity glimmering inside the residents. But the larger, much more sceptical side of you, couldn’t help but notice the flaws of the idea and the dangers of false hope.
Or maybe it was just because you looked fucking ridiculous trying to play dress up.
Either way, you hated the celebrations.
This one in particular though, caught you off guard.
You hadn’t payed much attention to New Years before the world ended, and just assumed that would be the same now; but when you caught wind of the party, you felt your stomach bubble in excitement.
And for one reason only.
Daryl.
You knew Daryl was an absolute sucker for dainty dresses and lingerie and you hadn’t ever gotten the chance to wear something like that for him. But a few days prior, you had stumbled across a small shopping mall on run and found this adorable matching light pink set and had to stuff it away in case the opportunity to surprise him presented itself.
Well, here it was.
And man was that excitement rapidly turning into a full blown panic attack.
Running your fingers through your hair haphazardly, you studied your appearance in the mirror.
You’d only so far put on the lingerie and a small black skirt and you already felt confined and self conscious. The straps weren’t sitting right, the cups of your bra were too big, causing weird awkward gaps.
Sighing, you close your eyes in defeat, resting your head in your hands.
This was just awful.
You could already hear the beginnings of the party going, music and laughter flowing in through your slightly cracked window and it only caused you to sink further into yourself.
You felt your mind slip into your self deprecating thoughts as you began to tune out the world around you, missing the soft creaks of footsteps on the wooden floored hallway.
The door of your shared room was wide open, as it was only the two of you that occupied the small house.
Daryl took you in for a moment, leaning against the doorframe observing your defeated aura silently.
He immediately knew what was bothering you, he could read you like a book at this point. He crept up behind you, gently touching your shoulder as to not frighten you from your thoughts.
Jumping slightly, your eyes flew open and landed on those deep familiar blue ones you adored, staring back at you through the mirror.
His natural scent caught your nose and your body subconsciously began to ease, slumping back into his chest.
“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you home so early,” you whisper to him as you notice his eyes drift down your body.
You wrap your arms around yourself, not wanting him to see your failed attempt at a surprise and be disappointed.
You should have known he’d be quicker than you.
“Not so fast, baby,” he says, catching your arms before they can fully shield your torso from him and twisted you around to face him.
“It’s nothing, really Daryl, I-I don’t even know what I was thinking,” you mumble feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
That’s when you notice the dark, lustful glimmer in his eyes and awed expression clear as day on his features.
Oh. He likes it.
Heat pooled in your stomach.
Daryl bunches the fabric of your dainty skirt in his hand contemplatively, drawing it up ever so slowly and tucking it into the waist band to keep you exposed.
You could feel his eyes wander your skin, like soft breathy kisses, from finger tips to the dip of your collar bones.
Your breathe catches as you feel the faintest pressure on your dripping cunt.
“This all fer me?” He whispers, slowly sliding his middle finger from the wet patch on your panties to the tiny pink bow at the hem.
He finger dips into the waist when he doesn’t hear your response, and snaps it back against your skin.
“Y-yes Dar,” you gasp.
Of course it was for him, you were his and he damn well knew that, but he simply couldn’t help himself from asking time to time.
He continued to toy with the bow thoughtfully, letting his finger tips graze over the sensitive skin there. Over your hip bones, stomach, and down to your inner thighs, never allowing too much pressure so it felt like soft tickles.
He enjoyed to watch you pant and writhe. Liked the way your skin would erupt in goosebumps every place he touched.
He was a hunter after all.
He could spend hours playing with every detail of you, work you up until you have tears welling in your eyes and your cunt was practically pulsing.
Though you’d beg and plead for him to stop, to give you what you need, he knew you loved it.
And so did he.
Daryl Dixon was a tease.
“Wanted to surprise you after the party,” you manage to squeak out and his gaze finally meets yours.
“Did ya now?” he mocks, walking you backwards till the back of your knees hit the bed and you take a seat at the edge. He looms over you, thumb grazing your bottom lip and you simply nod back at him.
“Well, ya can be certain there ain’t gonna be no party anymore,” he growls, staring you down like you had offended him somehow.
He harshly grips your hips, pulling them till your ass was practically hanging off the edge and drops down to his knees before you, spreading your legs to make room for himself.
All you can do is watch him, mouth parted open as he manhandles you however he pleases.
“And where did ya find somethin’ so pretty, hm?” he questions gruffly, once again rubbing his thumb over the wet patch forming on your panties.
You lean back on your arms, dropping your chin to watch his movements.
“I-uh, on a run the other day,” you huff, your words stuttering in excitement and anticipation.
Daryl only hums in response, as he dips his fingers and pulls them to the side, exposing you fully to him.
He barely gives you a second to register his actions before he’s dropping his head between your thighs, licking a long strip across your soaked cunt.
Your body jolts in surprised pleasure, your right hand flying to grip his soft brown locks as he laps at your clit.
Moaning loudly, your hips rock into him as he continues to lick and suck, lost in the taste of you.
“Oh god,” you whimper. Your arms are shaking behind you, ready to give out any second as you watch Daryl devour you like you were his last meal on earth.
He always looked so damn pretty, eyes closed and entrapped between your thighs.
He lifts his head, groaning at the sight of you and begins trailing kisses over your hips and down your inner thighs.
“Sweet girl,” he mumbles between kisses, “always thinkin’ bout me, huh?”
Your eyes roll back as you sink to your elbows, overwhelmed by the pleasure.
“Asked you a question, baby,” he nips at your skin causing a soft sting.
“Always Dar,” you pant, rolling your hips into him again. Your body was pulsing with lust and Daryl could sense how needy you were for him, like it had been weeks without his touch and honestly, it felt like that for him too.
He was about ready to cum in his jeans at the sight of you alone. Legs spread for him, pupils blown wide while you panted and moaned noisily just for him to hear.
Trailing his lips back up, he grips your waist stilling your movements, “What do ya need from me, hm?”
Your mind blanks for a moment, surprised by his uncharacteristic generosity. He was never this quick to give you what you need, always wanting to drag your pleasure for miles and miles until each pretty sound you could possibly make filled his ears.
“Come on now, or do you want me to decide for ya?” he asks again and you quickly shake your head, grabbing him by the shoulders and scooting back until you both were at the top of the bed.
As he lands above you, arms on each side of your head, you finally feel him and how hard he already was.
Rocking into him suggestively, “You know what I need,” you whisper.
Daryl groans from the friction, dropping his head to your shoulder and rutting into you further, chasing your movements.
You hadn’t seen him this worked up and responsive in a long time, and god were you loving it.
You pull his head up to face you and crash your lips onto his, hands finding his belt trying to discard him of it as fast as you possibly can. Daryl’s a panting mess above you, “Baby are you tryna kill me?” he groans when he feels your hands brush against his cock as you attempt to rid him of his jeans.
All you can do is whimper into his mouth as you struggle, and he kicks them down and off the bed.
He grabs you hands and pulls them above you, pinning them down as he begins to attack your neck with bites and kisses.
“Please Dar,” you whine, “need you now.”
“I know baby, I know,” he coos, attempting to soothe you as he draws your skirt and panties down your legs.
You begin tearing at his vest, needing to feel him closer to you, as close as he could possibly get. You feel him chuckle against you, “So eager for me, are ya?” as he lines himself up with your aching core, teasing you even more.
Taking him by surprise, you crush his hips into yours, filling yourself to the hilt all at once. You gasp from from the mixture of pain and pleasure, as Daryl all but whines into your mouth.
“Oh shit, fuck me,” he groans as he begins to slam into you at a bruising pace. You claw at his shoulders, rocking your hips to match his fast movements.
“Just love this cock, don’t ya?” he grunts, lifting one of your legs around his waist to drive into you even deeper.
You felt your brain cloud over, unable to think about anything other than him, drunker on his cock than you’d been from any night of drinking you’d partaken to in the past.
“Don’t go dumb on me now, darling. What did I ask ya?” he repeats, slowing his hips to sensual rolls, so it only stroked that cord in your stomach but kept it from building any further.
“God yes,” you moan, matching his slow but absolutely delicious pace.
Daryl is a groaning mess in your ears as your bodies dance a synchronized rhythm together, moulding into each other like pieces of a puzzle.
His hand snakes between you two, finding your clit easily and he begins to stroke you gently, allowing the fire in your abdomen to build rapidly.
“Oh Dar,” you moan and Daryl only picks up the pace, chasing after his own high to experience with you. Your clutching to him for dear life as he pounds into you quickly, grunting and groaning quiet praises about how good you feel.
You can tell he’s close when his hips start to stutter and shake, losing his rhythm slightly and you finally feel the cord break.
Your body floods with ecstasy, cunt pulsing around him causing his high to come crashing over him with you. Waves of pleasure wash over you as you both come down, his hips slowing to a stop.
He rests his forehead down to yours while the both of you struggle to catch your breath. You feel Daryl start to chuckle against you and your eyes lazily drift open, “What?” you mumble, running your fingers slowly down his back.
“Never was a big fan of surprises before, but ya can bet your ass I am now.”
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anonimusunnoaniswriting · 8 months ago
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PAINTED WORSHIP Nanami x Prim Princess!Reader
Minors and ageless blogs don't fucking interact
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Pairing: Nanami Kento x PrimPrincess!Reader
Genre: Smut
Word Count: 1491
Warnings: Slightly jealous!Nanami, Posessive!Nanami, plus size reader, female bodied reader, Marks left, no protection (wrap up kids), Food used as an aphrodaisiac (ice-cream)
Summary: When Gojo gets a little peek down your top, Nanami can't stop hiimself from marking whats his.
A/N: What the hell happened?? I sat down to write this thinking it'd be a cute little blurb net thing i know we're at a thousand plus words??? Anyway i wrote this while cooking okra. such an unsexy scenario please keep in mind when you read lol ok byeeee
sort of pt1 here
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Pretty prim princess of the Jujutsu world. No one expects you to leave long scratches down the length of your boyfriend’s back every night. No one expects you to be face down-ass up, shoved into the mattress; Nanami Kento pounding into you from behind. No one expects that you get slapped on your ass every time because he loves watching it jiggle.
Nanami is so careful not to leave visible marks on you. He too has a reputation to maintain after all. The hand print on your bum, the little hickeys that litter your chest – these are meant for his eyes only. It’s unfortunate that Gojo got a little peek though; when you bent over to take a look at what he was trying to show you at his desk, and he turned his head, only to be met by the perfect view down your top. The swell of your décolletage tantalizingly close and the gentle bruises all over your skin standing out in a harsh contrast. 
“I have to go!” He said standing up suddenly. “I—”
Gojo sprinted to the loo, almost crashing into an amused Nanami, leaving a befuddled you wondering what happened.
“Wha–” you started straightening up. 
“I think we better get you some turtlenecks” Nanami said stepping close to you and pulling your neckline higher. You looked down and your eyes widened. 
“Do you think he saw?” you whispered into his chest. 
“Lucky bastard… I have half a mind to gouge out his six eyes” He lays a hand on your chest. As if trying to make sure your top would never again leave your skin and presses a reserved kiss into your hair. “You’re mine. For my eyes only…” 
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It was a wonder how Nanami made it through the day when all he could think about was how he needed to leave fresh marks on you tonight. Marks that would not be tainted by some other eyes: only for him. 
His arms encircled you, the minute you stepped into your shared apartment, lips planted on your neck he sucked at your skin. Your knees buckled and Nanami held you up, knowing it was coming. 
“Min-min…” You started in a feeble attempt to placate your lover but a low growl stopped you from continuing. His tongue bullied your neck, and his hands shifted your focus to your breasts which he squeezed fingers searching for your hardening nipples under the fabric of your blouse. 
You couldn’t help but throw your head back and moan. Thankful that you were still supported by his arms. You could feel Nanami grinding against your back. The bulge that grew in his pants made you wet just thinking about it. 
“Min-min…” you tried again. 
Nanami sank his teeth into the spot he’d been worshipping in response making you yelp with the shock. “Nanami! What the fuck!?” 
He released you and you turned to look at him. His pupils were blown and his lips were red “We need to eat, but I’m not done with you… ” Saying this Nanami squeezed your ass and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you to collect yourself. 
Dinner was quick. You always meal planned during the weekend so everything was ready for Nanami to pop into the oven for a quick broil. Nanami finished dinner by serving you a helping of your favourite ice-cream which you both took to the couch to enjoy but once he was done, he climbed over you in a swift movement. “I’m hungry.” 
“What… We just ate Min-min, were the portions not en—” 
You were cut off by his ravenous mouth on yours. Licking at the ice-cream you were still eating. He sucked on your lower lip as if in answer to your unfinished question. His hands came up once again to knead at your breast. 
A low moan escaped you and you felt your bowl being taken from your hands and set aside while Nanami kissed you over and over. His lips slid down from your mouth to his last conquest and he lapped at it gently hearing you hiss at his touch. The indents his teeth had left on your skin stood out against his tongue, and for a moment Nanami felt guilty. But the feeling was quashed with a simple roll of your hips that begged him for more. 
“Kento… need you…”
Nanami grabbed hold of your ass lifting you onto his lap steadying you with one hand he retrieved the ice cream bowl with the other and handed it to you. 
“Feed me.” 
You took the spoon, ready to let him have some from you but he shook his head. 
“Off you.” 
Your cheeks burned but you slowly dripped a drop of the cold desert onto your chest, right between your breasts. Nanami enthusiastically licked. 
“More. Please…” a gravelly plea.
You dripped it – this time down your breast, it rolled down your skin ending at your erect nipple. Nanami licked again, a stripe up your breast cleaning off the sticky sweetness. His tongue returned and flicked at your nipple and you shuddered. 
He reached a hand under your skirt and rubbed at your mound over your panties. “Come on beautiful, keep it coming.” 
You continued dripping ice cream down your body, cold streaks matching the red welts you left down Nanami’s back. And Nanami ate you like a starved man. He sucked and licked and bit, painting a masterpiece in shades of purple. His mouth never once left you, drawing prayer after prayer from your lips. His hands made quick work of your clothing, tearing off what you wore, and only then did he pause to take a good look at his masterpiece. 
You were a garden in springtime, flowers blooming across your skin. He palmed at the fat bulge in his slacks and you took the opportunity to lick the spoon in your hand of the little ice-cream left on it, trailing your tongue along the metal while never once taking your eyes off Nanami. With a snarl he was on you again, discarding the bowl and lifting you up in his arms to carry you to your bed. He dropped you onto the sheets and yanked down his trousers and boxers in a swift movement. Then he pulled you toward him and sheathed his cock in your dripping pussy. 
The initial stretch was always a little painful but tonight you were too aroused to notice the burn, you ripped Nanami’s shirt off, scattering buttons everywhere, his hands found home in your hair and pulled it out of the messy bun, gently holding your small head against his chest as his cock pounded into you. 
“Fuck— no wonder Gojo had to excuse himself. You have no fuckin’ idea do ya.” You could only whine. Body jerking with each thrust. You latched your mouth against his chest feeling his nipple and kissed and licked at it. Desperation pooled in your lower abdomen and Nanami thankfully kept pace. 
  “You have no clue what you do to people. How fucking alluring you are. Like a witch who’s cast a spell on anyone who gets a look at her…” your lover continued. 
“Min-min-n-n-n!” 
“Yeah baby? Gonna come for me?” His breaths were now ragged, his hips sped up thrusting harder. Two thick fingers were slipped between your folds rubbing firm circles at your clit. “I’m close too baby. Whadya say we come together huh?”  He didn’t falter. Fingers, cock, mouth all running you like a well oiled machine. 
You felt your climax just at the surface, ready to explode and managed to whisper a, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop, Ken– so close—” Your arms held his shoulders for support and you bit down on skin, muffling the long keening cry that found its way out of you as you came onto his cock and fingers. 
Nanami followed just after, hips coming to a juddering stop. He emptied his load in you dragging his cock out slowly, letting his release drip down to your ass. You fell back onto the bed exhausted, splaying your arms out for Nanami to come to you. Instead he lifted himself off the bed and took out his phone. You heard the click of a camera shutter and lifted your head. Nanami crawled up beside you showing you the picture. It was a shot of your dripping pussy, angled in a way that one could see the littered hickeys going up your torso. 
Nanami smirked into the shell of your ear. “An artist should always sign their work.”
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The next day at Jujutsu High, Gojo noticed two things. One, you were wearing a brand new turtle-neck blouse. And two, later while talking to Nanami, he spotted a large dark mark at the base of his neck – unmistakable teeth marks in a perfect O. 
“Damn Nanamin, never took you to be experimental with flavours!” He teased. “Always thought you were a vanilla man.” 
The End
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A/N: THIS WAS SO CRAZY TO WRITE OMG. A massive thank you to @erebus-et-eigengrau who sat and brainstormed this with me in the notes of pt 1.
Hearts and Reblogs are much appreciated and comments will get you KISSIE
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repulsiveliquidation · 1 year ago
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Time Difference
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Switch! Alexia Putellas x Bottom! Leah Williamson x Top! Reader
Part 2 of Time Consuming
word count : 4k
warnings : none? fluffier that usual lol have fun. I will say I’m not the happiest with this one but no one’s perfect.
“Fuck, Y/N!” yelled Leah, fingers pumping out of her pussy frantically as she fucked herself on the phone with you and Alexia. You were holding Alexia in your arms, legs hooked over hers to keep her legs open as your fingers pumped in and out of her at the same time.
Laptop propped up at the foot of the bed, Alexia squirmed and moaned loudly. Her legs fought yours, wanting so badly to close off and kick up in pleasure. You were stronger, pinning her legs open wide for Leah to watch. Leah was listening more than watching, her headphones on as you and Ale shared one each. The mics picked up EVERYTHING. Every little whine, every dirty word you said to Alexia, you were saying to Leah. She heard the sloppy squelch of Alexia’s pussy, her wet mess echoing into each earpiece.
Alexia was keening, hands grabbing the sheets that looked close to ripping. Leah threw her head back with a loud thud, lips begging for you to let her cum. Alexia began to beg too, tears brimming in her eyes. They fell, her chest heaving as she held her orgasm back.
“Leah, eyes on Alexia,” you instructed, leaning into Alexia’s ear.
“Look at her, Ale. Doesn’t our girl look so pretty?” Alexia nods frantically, your free hand wrapping around her neck. She whined loudly, melting back into your arms. She was trembling hard now, Leah’s eyes and hers locked onto each other.
“Doesn’t Ale look so sexy, Lee? She’s trembling so.” Leah huffed frustratedly, her three fingers grazing over her sweet spot as her other hand fondled her swollen clit. She couldn’t hold on for much longer, lips begging once again for her well-earned release.
“Cum.” You said deeply, both of them letting go and reaching their mind-numbing highs. The hand around Alexia’s neck tightened, her body shuddering deeply as her eyes sunk back into her head. You looked at the laptop, grinning maniacally when you saw that Leah too had her hand around her neck. Leah pulled her fingers out of herself just as you did Ale, desperately taking deep breaths to calm down. You kiss Alexia’s damp hair, rubbing your palms over her rigid thighs.
“Leah darling, you with me?” you ask, pulling Ale into your lap how she liked. She was always needier after sex, wanting to be close to either one of you after she came. You pull the laptop closer, softly rubbing Alexia’s back as Leah sits up with a dazed look on her face.
“Leah?”
“Mm…”
“Talk to me.”
Alexia began to softly kiss your neck, your hands softly squeezing her ass. She giggled, pressing more kisses on your neck.
“I’m good, still here.”
“Good girl, have you got that bottle of water nearby like I asked?”
“Yes.”
“Have half, please?”
You reach over and grab one that you had over on the nightstand, opening it for Alexia. She quietly sipped, turning back around to face the camera to talk to Leah.
“You okay, Lee?” she asked softly, leaning back into your arms.
Leah nods, laying back on her bed. She started to giggle, setting a slight orgasm high Ale into a fit of giggles. You laugh too, resting your chin on Alexia’s shoulder as the giggling turns into full-blown laughter. You’re wiping away tears, looking at Leah with fond eyes.
“Lee? Bath time, yeah? We can set the laptop up like last time if you want.”
She sits up, palm holding her head up.
“Yes please.”
//
“No, Leah! You can’t be serious!”
“She stole my smiley potatoes! Right off my plate!”
“That doesn’t warrant extra laps at training!”
“Katie McCabe deserved it.”
“You need a palate cleanser. Our freezer only has those unhealthy things because we love you.”
The bathroom echoes with laughter, both you and Alexia sunken in the bath as Leah did the same over in London. Alexia caught the sad flicker in Leah’s eyes when she felt your lips kiss her neck softly in the bath.
“Lee,” the Barça captain called, “I miss you.”
You stop your kisses, looking at the screen. Leah looked like she was about to cry.
“Couple more days, baby. We miss you so much. It’s not the same without you here, yeah?”
Leah smiled, and both you and Alexia smiled back sighing happily.
“Alright girls, bedtime. Any longer in the bath, we’d have soaked up more water than our bodies need.”
//
“Did you seriously make a sign for her, Ale?”
“Hey, my girlfriend is coming from England to my home, I don’t want her getting lost.”
“Ale, she’s here every other week.”
“And I’ve lived here my whole life, I still get lost! I don’t want Leah to.”
“I saw your sign clear as day, Ale. Won’t get lost, I promise.”
Alexia looked towards the direction of that voice, ending the argument she was having with Lucy. You were already engulfing Leah in a big hug, her bags forgotten to the side. Alexia hugged the both of you, kissing Leah’s forehead softly. You pull back, grabbing her face and kissing her softly. Alexia was next, giving Leah a tight hug before pecking her lips gently. She whispered, “Missed you,” taking her bag and her hand, walking ahead of you. Lucy and Kiera hugged their national teammate, walking with Leah’s other bags towards your car.
All loaded up, you drove back into town for lunch with the team. Everyone had gotten to know Leah better since she started dating you and Ale, having already known her from the years of playing together it was a seamless transition.
The restaurant was buzzing, having blocked off a section for a little privacy. Everyone welcomed Leah with open arms, never making her feel out of place. Alexia was a little protective of Leah, her arm wrapped around her shoulders the whole time. María was in deep conversation with her, Ingrid listening very intently to your girlfriend talking about football. You had your hand resting on Alexia’s thigh, Leah’s hand holding yours as you chatted with the girls. The food was delicious, and everyone added this new place to the roster of approved team bonding locations. Leah, the defender with the palate of a 5-year-old, still managed to get her fix of a bland chicken sandwich this time.
Waving goodbye, the three of you decided to take a walk in the park nearby. Alexia suggested getting ice cream, stating that she knew a little hidden spot where she used to go as a child. After securing three large cones with very different flavor choices (a/n I stand by my statement earlier, mint chocolate chip is the best flavor, and if I hear a PEEP about it being like toothpaste istg.)
Slurping the rapidly melting cones, the warm Barcelona afternoon brought a gentle breeze that was cooling. Kids were playing on the swings, another group of them kicking around a football. Alexia’s eyes shone with a glint of hope, her fingers tapping on her knee, anxiously wanting to ask you both a question.
“Can we play?”
You look at her a little surprised. Leah stops trying to shove the last bit of her ice cream cone into her mouth when it clearly won’t fit.
“Play what?” you ask, looking towards where she’s looking. You smile, Leah rejoices beside you, successfully shoving the cone into her mouth. You look at her and shake your head, she smiles messily.
“Want to challenge them to a three vs. however many?”
“Oh hell yeah.”
Quickly finishing the last bits of your ice cream, you walk over to the group of boys playing football. You notice that one girl is trying to play with them, looking about 8 years old, and is being told to go away. Leah gives you a look, and you reciprocate, Alexia already over there challenging the boys to a match. They immediately start shit-talking when the little girl comes over and tugs at your shirt.
“Hola, Soy Y/N. ¿Cómo te llamas?”
“María.” Alexia walks over with Leah following her. She bends down to the little girl's height.
"Mi mejor amiga se llama María, es muy buena en el fútbol. ¿Lo estás?”
“Sí!”
“Want to be on our team then?” Leah asks with her hands on her hips. María nods deftly, joining the three of you in the middle.
"¿Ustedes están listos para perder?"
//
After scoring about 15 to nothing, the boys begged Alexia to let them leave. She did eventually, with a warning to let everyone who wanted to be able to play football. María pulls a woman over to you, jumping up excitedly.
“They let me play, Mama!”
Her mother looks at you three with a smile, her smile suddenly turning into a little shock. She kneels beside María, a knowing smile on her face.
“Do you know who these chicas are, bebé? That’s Y/N L/N, Leah Williamson, and Alexia Putellas.”
María takes a good look at Alexia. She lights up, jumping up and down again, barreling into Alexia for a hug. Alexia laughs and gives her a tight hug, picking her up into her arms.
“You’re my favorite player ever, Alexia,” María tells her, mumbling her little confession into her neck. Alexia visibly melts, putting María down gently.
“You’re my favorite bebita, you were so good today.”
After signing her shirt and getting a picture, María gleefully bounded home with her mother. Alexia looked extremely pleased, noticing the lovesick smiles you and Leah had on your faces.
“You’re so good with kids,” Leah tells her, holding her hand as you take her other.
“It was hot babe, you’re a natural,” you say, rubbing her forearm softly.
She blushes, face going very visibly red. She lets go of both your hands, running to the car.
You catch her, hugging her tight. Leah grabs her face and kisses her, their lips moving slowly together. Alexia pulls away from Leah and turns to face you, kissing you the same way. The sun was setting, a soft orange hue all around you. It was the perfect day, Alexia’s hands taking one of yours and one of Leah’s. She whispers, pulling Leah closer only for the two of you to hear.
“Please take me home.”
//
Shoving the key into the lock was the most frustrating thing to do and it always seemed to be the hardest task when you’re sexually frustrated and need to get inside QUICK. Leah was kissing Alexia in the hallway, knee already between her legs as Alexia ground down on her.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, finally!”
Rushing in, the two girls almost run inside, clothes strewn everywhere. They were naked when they got to the bedroom, you were kicking off your pants and had your fingers on your hips to pull your underwear down. They’re making out like their lives depended on it, Ale flipping Leah over onto her back. She looked a little uncertain, more used to being in Leah’s position. Leah looked unfazed, fondly gazing up at Alexia. She looked back at you like a deer in headlights, beginning to scoot back off of Leah. Leah grabs her hand and opens her mouth before you can, voice as affectionate as she could. A voice she reserved for Alexia and you.
“Do what feels right, baby.”
Alexia looked down at her, eyes softening before filling with determination. She nods, crashing her lips onto Leah’s. You climb onto the bed, hands immediately finding Alexia’s waist. You settle behind Alexia as she leans back into you. She’s straddling Leah, Leah caresses her hips and thighs with the same loving smile on her face.
“Do you maybe want to try fucking her, sweetheart? She’d look so pretty on your cock,” you ask Alexia as Leah’s hands find yours and intertwine on Alexia’s thighs. Alexia’s eyes change, and her big hands (a/n everyone’s seen the TikTok by now lol) grasp Leah’s small waist. She leans down, kissing up Leah’s chest. Her voice turns sultry, mere decibels above a whisper.
“Do you want me to fuck you, Leah? I haven’t had your pussy in a while, bebita.”
Leah keens, nodding her head softly as her lips beg Alexia for her cock. Alexia smiles, looking back at you for approval.
“She’s all yours, darling. Did you want me to do anything?”
Alexia has that deer-in-the-headlights look again as she reaches into the drawer for her rarely used strap. She smiles wide before nodding, clambering back onto the bed between Leah’s legs.
“Want you to hold Leah like you hold me when we’re on the phone with her. I think she deserves to know how good it feels.”
Alexia leans in for a kiss, lips locked in deep. Your hands find their place on Leah’s breasts, kneading them hard as Alexia moves her lips lower to your neck. You groan as your fingers flick over Leah’s hardened nipples. Alexia pulls away breathlessly, biting her lip as she settles between Leah’s legs. You too sit back and pull Leah between your legs, holding her down the same way she saw you do to Alexia. You brush her baby hair out of her face, kissing her softly. Alexia begins to slowly drag her nails down Leah’s abs, kissing softly at the England captain's skin.
Alexia bites dark hickeys all over her chest as your hands caress and fondle her breasts. Your legs have locked Leah’s in place as she squirms all over the place. Alexia suddenly turns stern and slaps her thigh, her captain's voice low and serious.
“Don’t move.”
Leah nods softly and stops her squirming, an impressed look on your face paired with a proud smile. Alexia looks up at you again for approval, you give her a nod and an encouraging smile that Leah whines at.
“J-Just fuck me already…!”
“Don’t ask me, love. Ask Ale. I’m sure she’ll say yes if you say please.”
“Please Ale, fuck me!”
“Not yet, cariño. I want to taste you first.”
Alexia dives in, licking at Leah’s core hard and fast. It makes Leah struggle and whine, the defender putting up a valiant fight to get out of your hold. You’re again stronger, pinning her down for Alexia to devour.
Alexia spreads Leah open nicely, giving you an enticing view of Leah’s glistening folds and her tongue that flicks lazily over her clit. Leah cries out for Alexia, to which she coos and drags her fingers over the English woman’s folds.
A finger pushes itself in slowly, Alexia’s lips tight around Leah’s clit. She sucks and sucks and sucks, finger pumping in and out of her rhythmically. One very quickly becomes three, fingertips dragging over her spot hard and fast. Leah has flashbacks to the other night, when she witnessed your fingers inside Alexia doing the same thing to her. Leah grabs the sheets, just like Alexia did, crying out to both of you begging to cum.
“You’re so wet, cariño. Were you this wet when we were on the phone that night? I think so, you sound the same. Such noisy squelching, wasn’t it Y/N?”
“Yes, she does sound the same. Do you like Alexia’s fingers, Leah? Tell her.” you whisper the last bit into Leah’s ear, hands caressing her abs gently.
“I-I love your fingers, Ale!”
“Sí bebita, you’re getting so close to coming no?”
“Please, please!”
“Can she come, Y/N?”
Leah groans hoarsely, looking up at you desperately holding back her orgasm. You nod curtly and Leah lets go. She comes hard, thighs quivering and convulsing as you slowly release her from your hold. Alexia’s fingers are relentless, helping Leah ride out her orgasm.
She pulls them out once Leah calms and begins to wince, shoving them straight into her mouth. She sucks them clean as you and Leah watch, your fingers dipping briefly between Leah’s legs to have a taste of your own. Leah moans loudly, eyes flickering between you and Alexia, unable to decide who will be the death of her.
Alexia leans over to kiss you again, the taste of Leah strong on both your tongues. She pulls away, crashing her lips on Leah’s softly.
“You’re so delicious, mi cielo. Ready for my cock, sí?”
“Fuck Ale, please…”
Alexia helps Leah move in the middle of the bed. You sit on the side, watching them carefully. It had been a while since Alexia topped last, preferring to be treated like the pillow princess she was. You and Leah were more than happy to indulge her, giving her what she needed since her job and responsibilities often stressed her out. You could feel that she was slightly nervous about fucking Leah, afraid that her lack of practice would make her a bad fuck. You immediately sat beside her, giving her tummy a little rub that she liked.
“Don’t need to be nervous, you’ll be great.” Leah caressed her thighs gently, smiling up at her.
“Hurry up and fuck me good, yeah?” Alexia lines herself up with Leah, teasing the tip in gently before filling Leah in one smooth motion. Leah choked slightly at the sudden intrusion, grasping onto Alexia’s thighs tightly.
Leah hiked her legs back and with the help of Alexia, had them pressed deep and wide. Alexia’s whole cock slipped in and out of the with deep strokes, your praises in Alexia’s ear spurring her on. Filthy phrases left your lips and into Alexia’s ear, breaking her down right with Leah. Her hips never once faltered though, obediently pounding into Leah’s sloppy pussy.
Your fingers shoved themselves into Alexia’s mouth with orders to suck; once wet they found themselves between your legs to swipe through your soaked folds. Slipping two wet fingers into yourself, you chased your high as Leah and Alexia watched shamelessly. Alexia’s thrusts began to slow, her focus shifting from Leah to you. You stopped touching yourself, eyes staring into hers.
“Did I tell you to stop fucking her, Ale?”
She shakes her head vigorously.
“Do it again and you’re both not coming anymore tonight.”
Her grip on Leah tightened and her pace quickened, pounding Leah into the mattress as she tried to watch you. Your fingers moved into Leah’s awaiting mouth which she sucked on hard. Spreading out a little more than earlier, three fingers slipped themselves easier into your throbbing pussy. Alexia moans watching, hips faltering as she barreled towards her high. Leah was too, nimble fingers slipping momentarily into her mouth before circling her sensitive clit. Alexia bent over and suckled on Leah’s breasts; they were known to be her favorite set.
You didn’t know who came first, moans of everyone’s names echoed in the room. It was melodious, a symphony of passion and ecstasy.
Leah panted deeply, hands pressed to her face as she broke out in a fit of giggles. Alexia pulled out and bit her lip, starting to giggle too. You grinned and licked your lips, kissing a giggling Leah with difficulty. Alexia was easier, her lips molding to yours perfectly every time.
That was how it was kissing them. Leah’s lips felt like fireworks, new and exciting. Alexia’s lips felt like home, familiar and comforting.
You reached under your pillow, grabbing your harness to pull on. Alexia pulled hers off, scooting away from Leah with a soft peck to your shoulder. Kissing down Leah’s chest, you bit new marks in places that Alexia missed. Sucking on her breast, you pinched at the other, making her moan softly. She was a little more sensitive there than Alexia, responding to every fondle with a whiny moan.
“Ready for me now, baby girl?”
She nodded. Alexia leaned in and kissed Leah, just as you pushed your cock into her. Leah moaned into Alexia’s mouth, she threw her head back and couldn’t keep her sounds contained as you weren’t as lenient as Alexia. Your hips were rough and deep, hitting her sweet spot almost immediately. You had your eyes focused on where you both were connected, not seeing that Alexia had clambered onto Leah’s face facing you. She reached back and grabbed Leah’s blonde hair, pulling hard as she ground her pussy down on her face. Leah groaned into Alexia’s core, arms wrapped tight around her muscular thighs. Alexia tapped your shoulder, your head shot up, eyes met with a beautiful sight before you. Leah was noisily slurping at Alexia’s folds, Alexia puckered at you, asking for a kiss. Speeding up your thrusts to spur Leah, you grab Alexia’s face and kiss her passionately. You lick deep into Alexia’s mouth, reaching down to spank her ass.
She whines, sucking on your tongue hard. She grasps at Leah’s waist to stabilize herself, her face tucked into your neck as she desperately tries to ride Leah’s tongue. She gets a grip on herself, leaning back and grinding hard on Leah, chasing her high. Leah could easily let herself die here, she’d be a happy woman.
Her slender fingers slip into Alexia’s begging-to-be-filled hole, causing Ale to gasp and ride her fingers while Leah suckles on her folds. A chorus of groans fills the room, the three of you almost at your peak. Alexia leans in again, puckered lips ready for you to satisfy. You kiss her hard, fucking into Leah with more determination.
Leah comes first this time, already sensitive from her first two orgasms. Alexia follows 10 seconds later, gripping your arms tight as she practically goes boneless on top of Leah. One last thrust into Leah gives you what you need, cumming hard just as Leah begins to beg you to stop because of the oversensitivity.
Alexia climbs off Leah immediately presses her lips to hers. They kiss passionately, and you pull out of Leah and watch them for a bit. Alexia looks utterly infatuated, a look that she’s given you dozens of times after sex. You decide to leave them for a bit, going into the bathroom to start a shower. Throwing in a shower steamer and turning down the lights, you walk back into the room to find them both cuddling with each other.
“Come on darlings, let’s get you cleaned up.”
Alexia takes it upon herself to carry Leah into the bathroom. She sets her down in the shower, immediately grabbing her face and kissing her. Leah giggles softly, kissing her back gently. You saunter in behind them, pulling Leah closer to you. She reaches back and tucks a hand behind your head, your lips biting little hickeys along her neck. Your hands knead her flesh, massaging her sore thighs gently as Alexia lathers her up in body wash. You work on her hair next, scratching her scalp exactly how you knew she enjoyed it. Alexia was next, Leah insisting on shampooing the Spaniard. You scrubbed her clean, Leah rinsing her hair out while making sure not to get soap in her eyes. They worked on you last, Alexia massaging your head while she worked the conditioner into your hair, Leah having too much fun making sure the loofah scrubbed every inch of skin she knew about.
An hour later, skincare routines were completed and hair care was done, you called for a couple of pizzas for dinner. Alexia took back her needy-after-sex title, face smushed into Leah’s stomach as she watched the men’s Arsenal game Leah had put on.
“Why are we watching this?” she grumbled into Leah’s (yours) hoodie.
“Because my boys are playing.”
“Ale, just enjoy the football. It’s an important game for Arsenal in the Premier League.”
A minute later, you felt the need to clarify something.
“If it makes you feel better, I still want them to lose since I am a Manchester United fan.” (a/n I have been since I was a kid.)
Alexia laughs, snuggling closer into Leah’s stomach with a smile. Leah shoots you a sharp look, instead running her fingers through the Catalan’s damp hair, slowly Alexia becomes more and more interested in the game.
The pizza got there 20 minutes after you called, sharing a meat lover pizza with your girls was the perfect way to make up for the time difference.
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