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jazzthatonewriterchick · 14 days ago

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IS IT MINE? (Connie x Black!F!Reader 18+ One Shot)

Pairing: Connie Springer x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Connie doesn’t take too kindly to you, his pretty little bimbo girlfriend, chatting up his team during an interview after his big fight. But lucky for him, he has many ways to show you how to correct your mistakes and prove to him that you’re his-his favorite little trophy.

Warnings: No Titans AU; Boxer!BF!Connie x Bimbo!GF!Reader; Public/Locker Room Sex; Mirror Sex; Teasing; Cock Worship; Degradation; Facial Abuse; Hair-Pulling; Choking; Face Slapping; Cum/Spit Play; Connie is a Dirty Talker AND a Muncher; Pussy-Drunk!Connie; Multiple Os; Doggystyle; Cum-Drunk!Reader; Mating Press; Daddy Kink; MDom!Connie x fsub!Reader; Some Spanish; Multiple Creampies & Cum-Shots

Writer’s Note: I had this idea after listening to Leon Thomas' ass for over a week now lol. This was originally gonna be a Sukuna one-shot, but then I decided to do someone I haven't done before after falling down the AOT rabbit hole again: MY CONNIE. Enjoy! -Jazz

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“C-Connie, please! I-I…ah! I said I was sorry!”

The young UFC fighter standing at 5'9 and most definitely taller than your short stack ass has you pushed against the wall, one of his knees wedged between the cushiony, soft, plush inner thighs that he so loves to kiss, bite, and love on when he isn't training for a fight.

You should've known better than to have worn your favorite (and his favorite) fiery-hot red mini dress to his big championship match. The kind with that buttery-soft material that feels like silk against Connie's fingers as he glides them down your beautiful, delectable, pudgy body and has a low cut so your tits are damn near popping out of your push-up bra.

But it was a big event tonight! Televised and everything! You wanted to look nice for your man and the cameras, so you pulled out your sexiest along with some red heeled mules, Fenty Gloss to make your lips nice and juicy, and Connie's oversized leather jacket because he just LOVES seeing his baby wearing his clothes.

Once backstage and in the hallway near the backrooms, he damn near ripped his jacket off to explore your body with his hands, calloused and bruised from the previous fight and years of training. His lips heatedly caress your exposed neck, nuzzling into the scent of your sugary whipped cream-scented body mist, as he leaves sloppy kisses there.

“Oh, so now you’re sorry,” he huffs. “You definitely weren’t when you were chattin’ up my fuckin’ trainer.” He pulls away from your neck to instead kiss your pouty lips, caressing your chin and rubbing his knee up against your satin panties...which he's pretty sure is a thong.

The way that thing behind you was moving tonight as you went to your seat in the VIP section near the boxing ring was just too damn noticeable. He damn near lost focus in the ring going against his opponent because he was too busy watching you-his baby; his love; his cutest little fan.

You were in the stands cheering him on alongside Eren, his trainer and best friend, Armin, Connie's assistant who swears that he isn't, and Reiner, Connie's agent. You had a sign and everything. "I decorated it myself!" you proudly exclaimed when he swooped you up after the fight, sweaty and tired, but you enthusiastically kissed him anyway, the cameras all in your face.

You truly are a prize. The prettiest trophy to behold. Not even Connie's new championship belt can compare...though it did feel nice to knock that cocky Russian fuck out cold and hear the countdown before the final bell rung. He had been training for this fight for months, sometimes missing out on dates with you, but that he would make up for with some heated sex and cuddling sessions.

You understood. You always understood. You truly are a trophy...and others seem to know it too. Why else would Eren, Armin, and Reiner be chatting you up backstage during Connie's interview?

Right in his face.

And you were chatting right back, smiling that big, pretty smile and flaunting those pretty tits that Reiner and Eren had major eyes on. Especially Eren, the disrespectful fuck.

“I bet you loved his eyes all over this,” he growls. He takes a handful of your ass, laying it flat on the juicy cheeks with a smack that echos throughout the empty hallway. “And then my agent comes waltzin’ over to tell you how pretty you look.”

Connie was simmering mad. It's bad enough those motherfuckers flirt with every pretty girl that comes their way, but with YOU?! Did they do it just to get on his nerves? To make him sweat during his interview?

And when you gladly conversed with them and giggled at their compliments, it took everything in him to not throw the damn microphone at Reiner's head and crash out on everybody. Unfortunately for Connie, he is a major hot head and your fine ass don't make it no better.

One could say he is possessive. Another could say he is obsessive. Either way, he doesn't play about you. Especially when it comes to other men. He knows how sweet you are and he knows that men can take advantage of that.

But this is one of those times where you're just too nice and you need to be taught lesson about who the fuck you should be smiling and giggling at. “I-It was just a compliment!” you whine. “They know I’m with you, Con!"

Your nails, glittery and bejeweled for tonight's event, drag down Connie's tan skin, defined, muscular back, and toned arms roped in ink. How you love his tattoos. You've always been a sucker for them plus the brow pierced, the lip ring that adorns his plump bottom lip, and his buzzcut. It is all supposed to be intimidating, but it turned you on the first day you met him at the gym when he helped you reach a towel.

Connie hums in a disagreement, gently nipping at your bottom lip. “Clearly not. And clearly, you don’t either.” He pulls away to give you a smile laced with wickedness and seduction. It makes you weak in the knees. “So lemme remind you, baby.”

Your pretty, brown eyes widen in alarm. "O-Out here?" you whimper. You look down the hallway, barely even hearing the commotion backstage of other interviews and cameras snapping photos.

Connie gives you a confused look, his brows furrowed, and then begins to laugh. "No, silly girl!" he cackles, giving your ass another squeeze. "I'm not tryna be arrested for indecent exposure. It's bad enough I get caught free-ballin' today."

His hazel eyes glow with mirth and you feel yourself flush as he grinds himself against your core. The hot-headed, quick-witted fighter is known to leave your crib and go straight to a stadium without his underwear. Today was no different. He left your apartment at drawn, leaving you with a sweet kiss, and arrived to the stadium in just his shorts...nothing underneath.

So, of course, the cameras caught the outline of his big dick swinging around underneath the thin basketball shorts...not that you complained. You love it when people thirst after your man.

Your eyes tick down to his shorts now, straining to see the prized possession underneath: thick, pretty, tan cock that he has made very clearly is yours and only yours.

Connie notices your eyes gazing downward and grips your chin, forcing you to look at him. "Oh, you wanna see?" he teasingly asks. "Fuckin' little slut. Bet that's all you were thinkin' 'bout while I was in that ring."

He pushes you farther into the wall, pressing his harder, toned body against your softer, plushier one. "Bet you wanted my shorts to fall down so you could see that big cock on the full screen." His lips glide down the side of your neck to trail down to your chest, pressing kisses to the soft tops of those tits.

"Connie," you whisper. Your panties have begun to grow tight and uncomfortable against his knee, signaling your arousal. But then again, you were aroused when he nearly flew from the interview table and pulled you away from Eren and Reiner, dragging you down the hall to his dressing room.

Seeing Connie fight always gets you wet. You love how fast and strong he is, determined to win. He takes his fighting very seriously and has made himself known in the UFC world as a capable boxer. Seeing him punch noses and clock jaws has become sort of a kink of yours. Something about the brute strength he possesses and the aggression.

Aggression that you'll probably be getting tonight. "Lucky for you, baby, this is all for you." Connie takes your hand and presses it against his bulge that has begun to harden. You exhale, shuddering at the hard, pulsing, throbbing outline of his dick. You're practically salivating...from your mouth AND your pussy.

But just as quickly as it happens, it's done and Connie tears your hand away from his dick and pulls you off of the wall. You let out a little gasp as he drags you over to the door to his dressing room, yanks his key out from under the door, and unlocks it.

SMACK!

He gives your ass another hard smack that makes you squeak and your pussy throb. "Get the fuck in there," he growls. You do as you are told, quickly walking into the lavender-scented room with its royal blue walls, snack tables, private locker room and shower, and comfy furniture.

Connie shuts the door behind him, not even bothering to lock it. No one is coming in here. You stand there in the middle of the floor as he tosses his jacket aside and saunters up to you in his shorts, clean tee, and sneakers. You feel like you have been shot with a tranquilizer dart: you can't move an inch.

Your boyfriend finally makes it to you and yanks you to him by your hand. Your body reacts in excitement at being snatched up like that, your nipples hardening and your pussy twitching in your panties. Being so close to him and smelling the sweat and cologne in his skin doesn't help.

"Ya looked so pretty fa' me tonight, baby," he coos, one hand on your waist while the other caressing your cheek. "It...was all for me, right?" You melt from his touch, nuzzling your cheek into his palm. "Y-Yes, Papi," you whimper out. "Of course, it was. I only wear these clothes for you."

Only the tightest, shortest, skimpiest, sexiest clothes for your man. Your style of choice is considered "bimbo-ish" in general, but you love it and so does Connie. He doesn't care at all about what you wear. In fact, he implores you to wear the shortest skirts and lowest tops to give dudes a taste of what they will NEVER have.

"Aww, baby," Connie coos. His eyes fill with adoration for you. "You almost make me want to not punish your ass." His smile fades and you feel your stomach flip over. "Bend over that fuckin' couch."

He nods over to the plush couch sitting just a foot away from you in front of a full-length mirror that captures everything that is happening and will happen. Obediently, you saunter over to the couch and bend over, your back arched and your arms gripping the back of the couch.

Your body stifles when you feel fingers caress your spine, gliding down your back over the soft fabric of your dress. "What's the fuss, mama?" Connie chuckles. "It's just me. You got nothin' to be afraid of."

You gulp as you feel him peel your dress up to expose your plump ass in your thong...but not just any thong. "A G-string?!" he scoffs. "I knew somethin' was up with this dress. You needy little minx."

SPANK!

The first swat on your ass is a surprise and harsh, the loud clap of his palm hitting your right cheek echoing throughout the room. You flinch at the harsh, fiery sensation, but you know you'll have to get used to it because it isn't the only one. The next two are just as rough.

SPANK!

"Ow!" you shout, gritting your teeth at the fire licking across your ass from your boyfriend's assault. "Connie, wait-"

But you can't finish because your boyfriend is sitting down next to you and tossing you over his lap. You gasp as you fly over his legs right onto his groin, your ass tooted in the air for him. "Sorry, baby," he chuckles. "You got me excited. Can't help how this ass makes me feel."

And then his hand is coming down onto your butt again, making it glow and damn near putting his handprint on the soft, brown globes of fat that he just loves to touch, kiss, bite, lick, and massage every chance he gets:

SPANK!

Or in this case, smack. “You take those spankings like a champ, mami,” Connie coos. “That’s my girl.”

Soft moans and whimpers fly from your lips with every harsh hit, tears springing into your brown eyes and wetting your lash line. "Oh, fuck!" you sob. "P-Please stop, Con! It hurts!"

Connie pauses, smirking down at his pretty baby pulled over his lap with her ass all glowy and sore. "Yeah?" he teasingly asks. "Then why is your pussy so wet for me, huh?" You go rigid, realizing you've been exposed for the slut you are.

You feel Connie's hand wedge between your thighs and you moan as it glides against the soaked spot of your thon. "You think I can't feel you rubbin' yourself against my dick, puta?" Your heart leaps at the degrading name. You love it when Connie speaks in his native tongue. He tsks, shaking his head. "Guess I'll have to try more drastic measures."

He harshly pulls you up to look at him, his eyes aglow with lust and a noticeable tent in his shorts. He begins to strip you out of your dress, dragging the slinky thing down your body after pulling the straps down your shoulders. "You don't get this dick that easily, mama...not till you give me what I want." And you know exactly what that is.

Suddenly, he has you on your back and your thighs open for him, your G-string and your dress discarded on the floor. The only thing he has left on you are your shoes, your pretty, pedicured toes peeking out of the mules.

Connie gazes down at the gorgeous, glistening, brown lips before him, salivating at the very sight of you. He sighs, giving you the impression that he has been waiting for this. "I've won so many awards, but none are better than this pretty lil' pussy." And he means that. You know he does.

There is no more talking once his pierced tongue is inside of you and his hands are pinning your plushy thighs apart, his fingers caressing your stretch marks as he sucks, licks, and devours your cunt. The cold metal of his tongue ring melts against your hot, soaked pussy, somehow stimulating you more.

You writhe and shiver under his ministrations, one hand gripping the couch while the other grasps his scalp for dear life. "O-Oh, my God!" you choke out. "Oh, Papi, please! Go faster! You're so good at this, fu-u-u-ck!"

You are loud and unable to keep your voice down, but neither one of you cares. You are both too deep in the throes of pleasure to care about noise. Connie moans into your wet pussy, loving how sticky you are and how your ass cushions his chin as he laps away at your juices. "Mmm-hmm," he mumbles. "You had the nerve to flirt with Eren even though we know damn well only I can make you feel like this."

You whimper at his criticizing words, your pretty lips wobbling. "I-I wasn't-"

"I'm sorry, baby," he interrupts, giving you an apologetic look as he takes his thumb and rubs your clit. "Lemme correct myself: maybe you weren't flirtin' with him, but he was definitely flirtin' with you." He stares up at you, his eyes angry. "And I don't like that."

His tongue cascades down to your asscrack, licking up the trail of juices that slipped down there. You damn near scream to the heavens as his tongue caresses the sensitive little hole between your ass before he travels back up to your pussy, gently sucking on your lips. "Oh, shit!" you moan.

You're seeing the entire galaxy behind your eyelids while Connie is busy indulging in your soaking pussy, taking as much as he is giving. "Nobody fucks with what's mine," he growls. "And this is mine...isn't it?"

He pauses, stilling his thumb on your clit. Your body twitches in desperation, needing to cum. "Yes!" you sob. "Yes, Papi, it's yours! I'm fuckin' yours! Please make your baby girl cum!" You feel Connie smile against your pussy before going back to lapping at your cunt while he rubs your needy button in semi-circles, making your hips buck and your core tighten.

It doesn't take long for your orgasm to crest, rising to the surface like the sun rising over a grand sea. With a loud moan that steals the air from your lungs, you cream all over Connie's panting, pierced tongue, spilling your nut all over his soft lips and chin. But he doesn't eagerly lap it up or talk you through your orgasm like he usually does.

Instead, he sits up, wipes his mouth, and stares you down hard. You stare at him, confused and slightly scared of his intense glare. "W-What are you doing?" you pant. "Why'd you stop?"

SMACK!

Connie's hand slaps against your soddened, wet cunt, making you yelp from the sensitivity. "Cause you've seemed to have forgotten your place. You listen to me and I didn't say you could cum...yet you did it anyway."

Your stomach twists, realizing your mistake. What if he doesn't fuck you now? Or what if he fucks you dumb and fills you up with his spunk without letting you cum once? Or what if he makes you cum over and over again without a pause or a break to bring you to tears and pleas to stop?

He leans in toward you, squeezing your cheeks between his hand, making your lips pucker like a fish. "Now, what do you think I should do about a brat like you, huh, mama?" he whispers, cocking his head to the side. "Should I fuck you into submission?"

A tiny, shuddery exhale leaves your lips, one of hope. But then he clicks his tongue, making a sour face at you. "Nah; I'd like to fuck that slutty ass mouth first. That mouth just loves to chat up dudes that it shouldn't."

He keeps his intense, all-ablaze eyes on you as he yanks on the drawstring holding his shorts up. They tumble down his tan, toned thighs, revealing his Armani boxers that he pulls down his V-line in one swift motion. He strips off his shirt with one hand, pulling it over his head by reaching behind his neck to grab the collar.

Soon, he is completely naked and stands before you, his glistening muscles, tan skin, and tattoos on full display. All for you. Your hands and lips ache to touch, kiss, and lick him like a lollipop...especially the pretty dick hanging between his thighs. Thick. Curved. Dripping in pre-cum. Bobbing, throbbing, and hard all for you.

Your boyfriend wordlessly helps you stand and gently pushes you down onto your knees. Your eyes widen at his cock twitching in your face. "Con-"

"Ah-ah," he tuts, pressing a finger to your lips. "Shut up and open that pretty mouth for me, mama. No words. Just worship this dick since you wanted it so bad." He gives you a cocky, crooked smile that makes your stomach flip-flop and your cunt throb. Damn pretty motherfucker.

Unable to resist him or his delicious cock, you spread your lips and wrap them around the shaft while your hand wraps around the base, gently stroking in time with your sucking. Connie watches your pretty, pink lips stretch around his dick as you take him in your mouth, your head bobbing slightly as you do.

His teeth sink into his bottom lip at the wonderful feeling of your soft lips and wet tongue caressing every sensitive spot of his cock, coating it in your spit. "Dis mío, baby," he groans. "You're so pretty down there." He slowly pulls out, groaning as he does when he catches the string of spit that connects his head to your bottom lip.

"Ya like suckin' Papi's cock?" he asks as he gently slaps his head against your pouty, glossy lips and your soft cheeks. You slowly nod, your eyes hooded and seductive. "Yes," you whimper. "I love it, Papi."

Connie shivers, loving it when you get this slutty for him. It means you're just as horny for him as he is for you. He grabs the back of your head and directs you back down his cock. "Yeah, Papi knows you do," he coos as you swallow him whole. "He knows you'd never intentionally try to fuck with him. Sometimes, slutty bimbos like you just need a little...redirection."

As your throat begins to open around him, he takes that as a sign to begin fucking your throat. Really fucking it. Like it's a toy. He grips your hair and rolls his hips, filling your mouth to the brim with his dick as his head just passes the threshold of your sloppy, tight throat.

"Fuck!" he loudly groans. "Look at her. Look at that sexy lil' thing in that mirror." You shift your eyes slightly to the right where, sure enough, the mirror plastered against the wall behind the couch catches sight of the nasty sight it beholds.

You almost don't recognize yourself as the curvy girl with all of her rolls, stretch marks, and love handles on her knees before the stud who is plunging his cock in and out of her mouth, luscious moans and swears in Spanish dripping from his lips.

"Who's that gettin' her face and her makeup fucked, huh?" Connie grunts, still fucking your mouth and making you gag as you stare. You. It's you taking that cock like a champ with spit dripping down your chin and your mascara slightly caking your lash line.

"You love this rough shit, don't you?" Connie chuckles, staring down at you in adoration. "Damn, babe, you must be REALLY horny." You are. You can't help but rock your hips as you grind your pussy against the floor in an effort to relieve yourself.

"Mmm-hmmph!" you mumble around Connie's cock. With a soft groan, he pulls himself out of your mouth, his dick now slick with saliva. He tilts your chin up to face him, nearly giving you whiplash. "You wanna ask me somethin'?"

You swallow the spit and pre caught in your throat before finally finding the energy to speak. "Please fuck me, Papi?" you softly question. "Will you please bend me over and fuck me? I need you so badly."

You begin nuzzling your face against his hard cock, pressing soft, teasing kisses along the shaft. "Please, please, please," you whimper. "Please fuck me." You suddenly feel the cock against your cheek stiffen even more, the one, large vein trailing from the heavy, cum-filled balls to the tip pulsing in need.

Suddenly, Connie has you on all fours in front of the mirror and he is mounting you from behind, his cock gently slapping against your soft, jiggly asscheeks. You stare at your boyfriend in the mirror, noticing how his brow is furrowed in concentration and sweat has collected between his jiggly pecs.

"Don't look away from that mirror till I say so," he demands. "I want you to watch yourself get fucked dumb in that bitch." And then he's sliding that dick inside of you, making your velvety, wet pussy walls stretch around his length. It jolts your senses awake and draws a loud, longing moan out of your and Connie's mouths.

His hands grip your soft hips as leverage to draw himself in and out of you, going at a steady, slow tempo at first. But then, once the need builds and slow isn't ideal anymore, he speeds up his thrusts until his hips are slamming against yours and clapping sounds drift through the air like a goddamn audience is applauding.

Your mouth falls agape on various moans, squeaks, and whines as your boyfriend fucks you in doggystyle, giving you backshots like it will be the last time he will do so. "A-Ah!" you gasp. "Oh, my God, Connie, yes! Fuck yes, fuck me! Fuck me just like that!"

Connie grins at you in the mirror, loving how your titties and ass bounce and jiggle with every thrust of his hips. "Yeah? Like this?" He props one leg up and proceeds to nail that spot in your pussy that makes you see stars. "Is that what my mama likes?" he grunts. "Is that what she needs?"

You can't even speak. Your mind is mush, only melting more and more as your clit becomes overstimulated from Connie's balls slapping against it every time he pistons himself forward to fill your pussy up with his cock.

One hand grips one of your titties, massaging it in his palm, with the other grips your asscheek for dear life, jiggling it in enjoyment. "God, this fuckin' pussy," Connie pants. "I'd give up all the fuckin' trophies for this every single day forever, baby. You know that, right?"

Yes, you know. And you know he means it. That only makes your need increase and your moans grow louder and more intense as his fucking speeds up until he is rutting into you. "Connie! I'm gonna cum soon!" You can feel your second orgasm rising, but you hold out. You need to cum only when he says so.

Connie laughs at you, loving how desperate you've become as you bounce on his dick. "Eager lil' bitch, ain'tcha?" he chuckles. He wraps a hand around your throat, squeezing it firmly as he continues to plunge himself inside of you. "Go 'head and cum for me, baby. I've got plenty more to give you. Cum for me now."

At his growly command, you come undone on his cock, shivering and shaking as your pussy quivers around him. You know that anyone outside of these walls can hear you, but you find yourself not caring. You can't when you feel this good.

"Fuck!" Connie groans, fighting for his life in your pussy. You feel too good stroking him with your walls, nearly draining the cum out of him. He forces himself to pull out and wetly strokes himself against your ass as your cum drips out of your pussy and down your thighs."Not yet," he grunts. "Gotta make sure you understand who you belong to."

He suddenly pushes you down onto the floor, chuckling when you squeak in surprise. "Put that fuckin' face in the floor, bitch." Your cheek smushes into the carpet as he sinks himself inside of you again, nevermind that you just came and your pussy is quite sensitive.

He begins fucking you rough, hard, and fast again, mercilessly nailing that spot that makes your eyes roll back and tears soak your lashes. Connie leans down to hear you make those pathetic whines as he drills your shit, his lips nibbling at your earlobe. "Whose is it?" he groans into your ear. "Whose pussy is this, mama, huh? Is it mine?"

You don't know how you're able to answer. Your brain feels like it has left the building. "Yes!" you whine into the carpet. Connie grips you up by your chin, forcing you to look at yourself and him in the mirror. "Sorry, I didn't hear you. Tell me that again, nice and loud."

Your eyes roam over his tan skin and muscles glistening in sweat. His tattoos. His intense yet loving hazel eyes gazing back at you. "Yes, Connie!" you shout. "Yes, it is! It's yours! I promise it's all yours!"

A slow, wicked smile stretches across Connie's face and he cracks his neck as if he's about to go into a fight. "Oh, I'm gonna fuck you up now, baby."

And he does. The man puts you through the damn wringer, fucking you in every position he can. When he finishes making you cum by drilling your pussy with your face down and your ass up, he tosses you onto the couch and fucks you in missionary, his hips drilling into yours, your legs up and your pretty heels dangling over his broad shoulders.

This is the position that is the end for Connie. He can't help the way your jiggling titties, brown nipples, soft tummy, and big, brown eyes make him feel as he fucks you dumb and gives you deep dick in the couch, making the both of you moan loud and so unabashed. He needs to cum for you. "Gonna cum!" he warns you. "Gonna fill this pussy up!"

You let out a simpering moan, feeling another orgasm rising to the surface. You hold onto his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. "Keep lookin' at me," he practically begs, his face flushed and eyes hooded. "Look at me while I fill you up, baby."

You have no choice but to ride the wave with him as he fucks your cunt faster, chasing his high. When his body tenses and his eyes roll back, showing the whites of his eyeballs, you know he is done for. With a low, long moan of pure yearning and release, he cums deep inside of you, filling you to the brim with his spunk finally. His orgasm tries another (fifth? Sixth?) mini orgasm that sends tremors throughout your body.

Connie groans as he pulls you to him, sinking his cock as far as he can go just so he can ensure that his cum stays inside of you for a bit longer. "And you'd better not clean that up," he huffs into your ear. "Let it drip when we walk outta here later."

You whimper as the aftershocks kick in, making your body tremble slightly. Your boyfriend holds you close, gently talking you through it. "That's it, baby, let it out," he coos, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "I love you so much."

You feel your heart skip a beat at his proclamation. No matter how many times he says this, you will always react as if it is the first time he is saying it to you. Once you find your voice, you embrace him back despite your sweaty, sticky body. "I love you too, Con," you giggle. "Even if you are insane."

Connie laughs and presses a kiss to your lips, sweetly ending such a rough, hot fuck session. After some more kissing and aftercare snuggles with you sitting in his lap, Connie gently pats your ass to get you to stand. "Now let's get you cleaned up before people come lookin' for us."

Click.

Abruptly, you and Connie look towards the door where, sure enough, you see shadow figures underneath the slot under the door. You gasp, quickly snatching up Connie's jacket and covering yourself with it just as the boxer tugs on his shorts.

He storms over to the door and opens it, revealing none other than his trainer, his agent, and his assistant in the hallway. Caught red-handed. "Or not," Connie finishes. "Fuckin' perverts."

Armin grows as red as a tomato. "I-I was just coming by to tell you that CBS wanted to talk with you," he stammers, doing his very best to not look at you.

"I-It was his idea!" Jean cries, pushing Eren in front of himself and Armin as the first one to get pummeled. "He made me be the lookout! I swear, I'm innocent!"

Eren is as cool as a cucumber, even giving you the eye as he stands right in Connie's face. Those intense, teal eyes... "That's a fat ass lie, but I don't regret shit," he scoffs. "Personally, it was a treat hearin' your pretty girl make those noises."

Connie punches him in the chest, making Eren laugh while he rubs the harsh spot. "Fuckin' asshole," he huffs.

He turns to you, making sure to stand right in the way of the ogling trainer as you grip his jacket closer to your luscious body. "Maybe if he's good and starts respectin' me, I'll let him join us next time."

It is a joke and you know it is...so you don't let your boyfriend or his trainer see how much that turns you on.

THE END.

#connie smut #connie springer #connie x black reader #connie x black y/n #connie x reader #aot x black reader #aot x black y/n #aot smut #black coded reader #black writers #my fic shit #my one shots #Youtube

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dreamofbetterthings · 7 months ago

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Finally Home Wolverine x mutant! Reader

Prompt: “I’ve spent forever thinking about what I’d say to you when I saw you again. Now that you’re here in front of me, I can’t seem to find the words.”

VIP: Logan Howlett aka Wolverine (Played by Hugh Jackman)

Universe: X-Men (Originally Fox), Marvel

Summary: Wade was a man of his word, and managed to get Logan back to his universe, right into the arms of someone he hasn't seen in ten years.

Warnings: This is a different ending from Deadpool and Wolverine. Minor spoilers for the plot. Reader is basically a modern-day avatar (The last air bender universe, not the Jake Sully blue folks lol) since all the good powers are already taken haha. Also, The Last Stand doesn't exist in this universe because I refuse to acknowledge the pain I had watching that movie.

A/N

Holy cow I took my boyfriend to see Deadpool and Wolverine, and we loved it! Originally, there were a couple of stories for these two individually that I had in my WIPS, but I just needed to get a couple of stories out while the movie was still fresh in my mind. The ending might be a little out of character for Wade and Logan, but I had no idea how to end it, so it is what it is. Once again, minor spoilers ahead for the film. I'll have another one out soon for you all.

Enjoy!

Logan was never one to be straightforward with his emotions. Nobody knew what he was thinking, or how he felt about anything. The only thing he managed to convey was anger and rage. Not now though. The party at Wade's apartment was in full swing, and everybody was having a good time knowing their existence wasn't on the verge of collapsing.

Almost everyone, anyway.

Logan sat on the couch and watched Wade interact with his friends, his newfound family, and that damn dog. He watched as they all smiled and joked with each other, passing food and drinks about. It was a domestic life that he hadn't quite learned to adapt. He almost did though, with you. Logan pulls a photo out of his jeans and a melancholy look spreads across his face as he looks at it.

"That's not fair, you can teleport!" Brushing what was left of the water balloon off your clothes, Kurt shrugs his shoulders. "You'll just have to be faster and catch me!" You quickly aim before he disappears again, leaving you without a target.

It was a sunny day, thanks to Storm, and Charles decided to give the students a break. With so much going on in the last few months, everyone was exhausted. He thought it would be a good idea to set up a pool and let everyone relax. Most of them were just kids after all, and they were pushed so much harder than they needed to be for the sake of a world that won't always accept them. They yearned for a day to be themselves, to be kids, and today, was that day.

Everybody was outside either in or by the pool. Students were chasing each other with water balloons and water guns. Others were taking turns jumping into the pool, or playing water polo, or volleyball. There was a barbeque off to the side when the kids got hungry, and of course, alcohol for the adults. The sun was out, and it gave a warm contrast to the nippy water of the pool. The X-Men team, the adults anyway, were sitting in lounge chairs or standing around, making sure the kids were being careful and not hurting themselves. Storm was even walking around and taking pictures of everyone having fun, mentioning she wanted to get them developed and put in a scrapbook. A memento of when life was easier and calm.

Then there was Logan. Off to the side drinking a beer, watching everyone have a good time. He wasn't much for the domestic life, as he didn't make a habit of getting close to people. But, these were his people, and he was thankful to find a community that accepted him as he was, even if he would never say it out loud. He watched all the kids run around, but his eyes always found their way back to you. You looked happy and relaxed, even when chasing Bobby or Colossus around with water in your hands. This was a huge contrast from how you looked during the missions you went on. It was a good look for you.

Logan was pulled from his thoughts when a sudden burst of cold hit his chest. Looking down, he noticed his once-dry black shirt was sticking to his body, water dripping from it. All the kids gasped and stopped their movements. Charles looked at his friend, a slightly amused look on his face. He looked around, trying to figure out who had just signed their death wish before his eyes once again landed on you. Standing next to the pool, you looked around, pretending like you didn't just water bend to hit him from across the yard. Logan did something that confused everyone. He simply grunted, wiping off his shirt before taking another drink of his beer. Everyone relaxed and continued to have fun, although slightly surprised at the lack of reaction from the stoic man.

You had stopped the antics and started talking with Scott, asking him how things had been with him and Jean. The last mission put a bit of a strain on their relationship. Your back was to Logan, so you didn't see when he put down his beer and started to creep up towards you. Scott noticed when he finally made his way behind you but decided not to say anything. After finishing his sentence, Scott quickly excused himself and stepped away. That was when Logan decided to grab you from behind.

You screamed from suddenly getting picked up and tried to reason with the man as he walked towards the pool. "Logan, come on, let's talk about this for a second. You don't have to do this. I'm sorry, please just put me down!" Unfortunately, your pleas fell on deaf ears, and the others sat there laughing as Logan hurled you into the pool. The kids all yelled in excitement. They'd been trying to get you in the water for hours. Had they known it was that easy, they would've splashed Logan themselves earlier. When you finally came up for air, everybody was laughing, and you even heard a couple of shutter clicks from Storm's camera.

Logan just stood there with an amused smirk on his face. You fake pouted before he came over to the edge of the pool with his hand out. "You shouldn't have splashed me." With a huff, you go over to meet him at the edge. "You don't sound too sorry about it." He pulled his hand away and shrugged his shoulders. "Alright, I won't help you out." "Okay, okay. I accept your apology. Would you be so kind as to help me out of the pool?" He reached his hand back out, and you happily took it, only to shock him by pulling the man with all your strength into the pool with you. This got everyone laughing. Scott laughed so hard he fell to his knees. Logan finally came up for air, his poor shirt clinging to his body for dear life, and wrapped his arms around you to keep you from getting out.

He was smiling.

He didn't smile often, and it always warmed your heart to see those pearly whites. Storm ran up and managed to get a couple of photos of the two of you before running off again. "I think that makes us even." You shake your head. "Not even close, however, I don't want the entire school to think you aren't the brooding mysterious man that you waltz around as.” Leaning close to his ear you whisper so the kids can't hear. "So, if you want, you can make it up to me tonight." Logan stays frozen in place, his eyes following you out of the pool to look for a towel.

Storm had the photos developed later that night and slipped a couple under Logan's door with a note. "Don't worry, I didn't put these in the scrapbook. I think the fourth will be your favorite." - Storm

Logan's eyes welled with tears as he held the photo. She was right, the fourth photo was his favorite one. The two of you were soaking wet in the pool with your arms around each other, smiling towards the camera. The picture got crumpled over time, always in his pocket or folded out of reach, but he kept it.

He missed you.

Dear god, he missed you.

Your body was never found when the mansion was raided. He always assumed you were taken and experimented on. He would've rather you be killed instead of kept alive and tortured for who knows how long. After looking for you for what felt like forever, he finally gave up, assuming you were dead. The crumpled-up picture was the only thing he had to remember your smile, your laugh, you.

Logan blinked the tears away when Wade approached. "Hey there peanut. You got a second?" A grunt left Logan's lips. "What do you want?" The self-proclaimed marvel Jesus took his hand and pulled him towards the door. "I got a surprise for you, I think you'll like it. Don't worry about the party, we'll be quick." As the two men walk out the door, Wade pulls a TempPad out of his pocket, and Logan starts to protest. "I'm not about to do more universe jumping with you. Once was enough." Wade nods. "I understand, but I think you might change your mind once you find out where we're going." Before Logan can say anything else, he is pulled through a portal into a hallway that looks like a carbon copy of the one he was previously in. "I swear if I have to listen to another one of you assholes I'm going to kill you both." Wade shrugs the comment off. "It's not another me." He gets serious for a moment.

"I know I lied to you about being able to fix your universe, and I'm sorry. However, I did jump around and find someone that you've been missing for ten years." Wade knocks on the door and then steps back. It opens a few seconds later.

"Logan?"

You stood there, shock and disbelief on your face. Without a second thought, both your feet move until you collapse in each other's arms. A sigh of relief leaves the broken man's mouth as the war in his mind begins to subside. "It's me bub. It's me." Tears spill down your face as you hug the man who you haven't seen in years. The two of you finally pull away, and Logan turns to Wade. "How did you do this? I thought they were dead." The merc shakes his head no. "Took a while to track them down. I almost thought they were dead, luckily I was wrong."

A portal appears behind Wade as he reaches out to hand Logan the TempPad. "I couldn't fix your past, but I at least wanted to give you a familiar future. Don't expect you to, but come visit anytime. My door is always open. We'll miss having you around." Logan took the device from Wade's hands. He starts to walk through the portal before Logan calls him. Turning around, Wade sees tears in the older man's eyes. "Thank you." He nods, before walking through the portal, and everyone in his apartment smiles and waves goodbye, before it closes.

Logan puts the device in his pocket, before looking at his lost love. He reaches his hand out and touches your face, afraid that this is some sick illusion and you'll be ripped away from him. “I’ve spent forever thinking about what I’d say to you when I saw you again. Now that you’re here in front of me, I can’t seem to find the words.” You smile and take his hand in yours. "Well, luckily for us, we have the rest of our lives for you to figure it out." You begin to walk back into your apartment, Logan's hand in yours. He thought about visiting Wade again when the time was right, but right now, he had a life with you to catch up on.

He was finally home.

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penkura · 3 months ago

Text

Christmas Gift

Summary: You and Zoro exchange your Christmas gifts for each other.

Note: I had to write Zoro of course, and this ended up being a little more self indulgent than I originally planned lol. But I hope you guys enjoy it. :)

Christmas with Zoro has always been your favorite time of year. Of course your birthdays are fun, but the holiday season makes things feel different when you two exchange gifts. He always acts like it’s a pain but the gifts Zoro has given you are always appreciated and more thoughtful than you expect, especially from someone who says it’s annoying to go shopping.

Your favorite thing each year is to see how flustered you can make your boyfriend. Even though you’ve been together for several years, Zoro never expects anything much from you, yet you always outdo yourself and cause him to feel like his gifts aren’t as good.

They always are to you, but Zoro still feels like you do better with the whole gift giving thing.

It's no different this year, when you two meet up once again, though it’s the last year you’ll be doing this as a dating couple since you’ll be getting married next year, as long as everything works out.

The earrings Zoro gives you this year match the three he wears, it’s the first time he’s giving you something like this (ignoring your engagement ring), but you love them all the same. He almost forced you to open your gift first, it was that important to him this year, for the two of you to match like that. You were so excited to see them that you hugged Zoro briefly before running off to the bathroom to put them in with a grin, making him roll his eyes with a smirk before he follows you.

“Figured you’d want a set since you got that third piercing.”

“Of course I did! That’s part of the whole reason I wanted them!”

Once you’ve gotten the earrings on and checked them out, you turn around and hug Zoro again, which he returns.

“You’re the best~ I love you~”

“Yeah, yeah,” he might roll his eyes again, but there’s a real smile there, “Its just some earrings, nothing that special.”

“But they’re special to me since we match now!” you pout while Zoro laughs, before you remember, “Oh!! You need to open your gift, Zoro!”

He tries to stop you when you grab his hand and drag him back to the living room, but doesn’t fight you on it. Zoro let’s you take him back and make him sit on the couch before you drop the gift bag in his lap.

“Now your turn!”

Zoro really does hate the whole gift giving thing, but the excited nervousness you have every time is cute. You’re always hopeful yet anxious that he’ll like the gift you’ve picked out for him, this year is no exception. You keep watching while he pulls the tissue paper out and eventually the gift, giving you a slightly confused look before you start to explain.

“So, you never wear a hat or gloves when it’s cold—”

“I don’t need them.”

“—but,” you let out a sigh but still smile, “I thought maybe a scarf wouldn’t be a problem, so I made you one.”

Really he’s surprised you haven’t made him anything like this until now, though he should’ve expected it by now, especially with how badly cold it’s gotten.

It’s a very simple scarf, he’s not sure about if it’s crochet or knitting since he’s not good at telling the difference, but you found what seems to be the perfect mossy green yarn and included black in it. Nothing fancy or intricate, you were probably worried the whole time you made if he’d even wear it anyway.

You’re still nervous obviously, starting to bite your lip because you think Zoro doesn’t like it, until he finally puts it on, causing you to grin once again when he looks at you.

“Well?”

“Hmm,” there’s no problem with the colors, you made sure of that, but you do adjust the scarf to where it’s wrapped around his neck once, “Now it’s perfect!”

Zoro throws an arm around your shoulders and pulls you against him, kissing your head and making you giggle at him.

“Thank you, I do like it.”

“Good! …will you wear it to my parents’ house tomorrow??”

“Seriously?”

“Please???”

You might have to promise him several things to get him to wear the scarf the next day, but Zoro does agree to it eventually. Giving gifts and having to deal with your parents talking to him all day is still a pain, he’s only willing to deal with that part of the holidays because it’s you.

#one piece x reader #reader insert #fem!reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader

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burdenandacrop · 3 months ago

Note

can I pretty please with a cherry on top request fluff like late night gaming fluff 🙏🏻

˗ˏˋ ❝ for you, i'm an insomniac. ❞ ˎˊ˗

this idea is so SO cute, i hope you enjoy ! thank you for your patience for how long this has taken me :,)

summary : schlatt begs you to come over to watch him play re4, he doesn't admit it's because he misses you so he just says it's because of 'how cool it was that he found his old playstation two.'

♯┆established relationship, only fluff, fem reader !

as the covers slowly became one with you, the distress from your work day became nearly invisible. working with the general public wasn't a walk in the park so it was the moments like these that somewhat made it worth it. your eyelids eventually became heavy as you attempted to pay attention to the video that was quietly playing on your tv. whatever youtuber that was talking through the screen was quickly beginning to sound like gibberish as your brain began to completely shut off. seems like your body was actually allowing you to sleep peacefully for the night.

letting out a final sigh before allowing yourself to fully surrender to the exhaustion, closing your eyes and hoping the next day makes up for the last. you were too comfortable to even nudge your tired arm to the remote to shut off the video, your electricity bill would thank you, but that didn't feel necessary in the slightest. just silently thankful that it wasn't another night of taking sleep aid because you were stuck awake at midnight when you had an early morning shift the following day. instead, it was a quiet friday night where you knew you could just seep into your covers until noon if you pleased, just as you'd been begging for in the past five days.

“♪ ding ding! ♪” then went off your phone, immediately making your closed eyes scrunch up in aggravation. it was probably just your friend sending some video, no need to check it. they’d understand in the morning. back to focusing on the soft ambiance of the gibberish you were hearing play from your tv, no need to worry about anything other than sleep.

“♪ ding ding! ♪” sounding off loudly once again from your phone, only making you more frustrated with the insistent noise. whoever was texting you wasn't even giving you a five minute waiting period, if it was your friend, you were more than likely going to bite their head off. your sleep was more important than some funny video, the aggravation was definitely your deprivation talking though. you slowly open up your eyes and narrow your eyes to your phone laying on the nightstand. silently pondering if you should check it, reluctant to say the least. maybe it was important, maybe it was your parent? now the unnecessary anxiety was pushing itself into your system, oh goodie.

you groan and push yourself out of the comfortable position, silently scolding yourself because it was obvious you weren't going to find that perfect balance of comfort in a spot easily again. you groggily sit yourself up and yank the phone into your palm and look at the pestering notification screen, your face slightly softening when your tired brain registered who it was that was ‘bugging’ you.

schlatt <3 : Hey goober. Guess what I found hiding in my storage collecting dust.

schlatt <3 : It's my old PS2 in case you were dying to know. Original RE4 too.

you quietly chuckle to yourself as you get your brain to finally wake up enough to acknowledge what the text actually said, you knew he could be random at times; just was hilarious that he felt the need to text you at near midnight about how he found his old gaming console. you type back to him with a soft grin plastered on your face, a teeny bit curious as to what he was probably wanting out of this late night conversation.

you : you're going through your storage at midnight?

schlatt <3 : Yeah.

schlatt <3 : Why. You gonna judge me?

you : no no lol

schlatt <3 : Thought so.

schlatt <3 : You want to come over? It's good nostalgia.

you eyed the last message for a moment, knowing full well that future you would scold you for passing on a good night's sleep. it had been a bit since you saw him after all; though the logical part of your brain was working its magic apparently.

you : i'm reallyyyy exhausted, maybe tomorrow? :(

schlatt <3 : Oh come on.

schlatt <3 : Visibly showing you the reaction. Yeah.

schlatt <3 : Seriously though, you can sleep at mine. Just sleep on the couch while I play and stuff.

it was getting a bit harder to say no, though the thought of driving the distance to his place felt like a nightmare with how tired you were. you were slowly coming out of your groggy state anyhow, so it was beginning to get even more tempting.

you : so you're not gonna be mad if i immediately pass out when i get there ... that's what you're saying ??

schlatt <3 : Of course not. Just want you to see how cool the console is. Even if it's just a few minutes. Then you can honk shoo all you want, baby.

it was as if anytime this man said 'baby' it activated some neuron in your brain to oblige to whatever he had to say, not that it was necessarily terrible. you sighed and fiddled your thumbs above the screen; hovering over the letters and debating if you'd hate yourself later for what you were about to do.

you : okaaay. i'll be there in a bit, just get it set up and everything. :,)

schlatt <3 : Sweet. Be safe. ❤️

you smiled at his last text and shut your phone's screen off as you propped yourself off the bed, you were still in your sleep attire but you didn't feel like changing; he'd understand obviously. not like he was expecting you to show up in some body-con fit to show off his twenty year old gaming console. you swiftly grabbed your bag and made your way to the front door, little did you know schlatt was being well prepared for a spontaneous night like this.

your body was so tired from the driving, the distance between schlatt and you was not a measly amount. he somehow made it worth it every time though. you made your way out of your car and groggily walked to the front door, holding your arms together when the rash realization hit you from how cold it was. would've been smarter to bring a hoodie of some sort, but whatever. you shake off the shivers and knock on the front door, rocking yourself back and forth to keep some natural body heat going.

the door practically swung open moments after you knocked, being greeted with schlatt smiling like it was christmas morning. he immediately stepped out to the doorway to wrap his arms around you and feverishly kiss the top of your head, seems like he really did miss you; just didn't want to bruise his pride and say that in a text message. he soon stopped with his insistent kisses to your scalp and looked down to your eyes, immediately realizing you were, in fact, exhausted. "oh you poor baby." he quietly chuckled out before taking a step back into the doorway to let you enter, his hand never leaving the small of your back as you made your way inside the much warmer atmosphere.

he rubbed your back gently as he shut the front door and locked it, looking back to you and your improper attire for the weather conditions of the north. "and you're trying to give yourself hypothermia." he sighed out as he let his hand trail to your shoulders, giving the tense tissue a soft squeeze and quickly noticing how tense you were. "wasn't thinking that quickly." you mutter out as you look to him and tiredly grin, in return making him take back the notion of wanting to scold you like a concerned father about your carelessness about your health with such chilly weather. your smile was just too cute for him to try and be upset with when it met his gaze. "well- you'll warm up here fine. days if you want." he jokes, but secretly hoping you'd pick to stay the weekend over at his place instead of wallowing in your apartment.

he had that pleading look complimenting his smile, as if his eyes were doing the begging for him. the temptations were obviously making their works, you sigh and pummel your cheek into the soft fabric of his shirt. the action making him lowly chuckle and wrap his arms around you, engulfed as if he wanted to create a cage around you. a silent 'lovely, won't you please stay?' you let your body weight lean against him with a soft sigh, "this was your plan all along?" you murmur into his chest, you could almost feel the soft nod he was giving you. clicking his tongue before looking down to your head and smiling, "i did want to show you the PS2." he chuckled, knowing he wasn't fooling a soul with his words. upon hearing his reply, you softly raise your head to meet with his eyes once again, "maybe i'm not too tired..." you replied with a grin.

he gently tucked his bottom lip in as he heard your reply, instantly being filled with glee; turns out his plan was going to fall perfectly into place. "i was hoping you'd say that." he practically whispered as he stared into your eyes, then trailing his gaze to the living room in which he set up prior to your arrival. you couldn't help but follow the direction of where his eyes were landing, being pleasantly surprised with the view being given to you. your grip on him softening as you saw the coffee table arranged with your favorite drinks and snacks, as well as a singular PS2 controller laying in the middle. you look back to him in slight shock and smile, "seems like you had a plan?" you questioned with a quiet snicker. he smugly shrugged and took a step back from your grasp and cross his arms, "ah, table just- came to be like that. keep fixing it and it keeps going back to that. i think it might be somethin' paranor-" he snickers out before you cut him off with a gentle kiss, your giggles escaping onto his lips as you pursed your lips against his. his laughter was about one in the same, tuned in with yours as he rubbed the edge of your chin with his fingertips.

your laughter was never fading, only lessening when you gently pulled away from the embrace; looking into his eyes with a smile. "you lead the way then." you mutter out and poke his shoulder with a stiffed giggle, making him just roll his eyes and shake his head. "i got a better idea," he admitted with a rather mischievous expression before giving you a certain look, letting you know what he was plotting silently. you furrowed your eyebrows and shook your head with widened eyes, only making him nod with a widening smile. "no. no!" you exclaim with a smile before he ignored your pleas and grabbed you up by the waist and flopped you onto his shoulder. making you just give up on trying to fight it off at this point. he just giggled and gave you a light tap on the behind before walking the both of you to the living room, "air jail for you not wearing a damn coat." he chuckled out, making you gently kick your legs in protest with a groan. you knew he'd get you for that little blip sooner or later.

he gently placed you on the couch, letting a soft grumble escape his lips. letting himself plop on the couch right beside you and immediately pull you to get close as possible to him, it was incredibly evident he missed you terribly. you leaned your head into the crook of his neck, taking in as much body heat from him as you possibly could; he was practically a heat pad. "you can stay like this as i play, y'know?" he muttered as he eyed the tv with the loading screen glowing in the front of you two. "are you gonna start it up, or are you too cozy?" you reply, tilting your head against him so you could get the perfect up close view of his side profile. "yeah, yeah." he softly snickered out as he reluctantly raised his body up to grab the controller, returning right back to his original position. you watched as his finger darted to the buttons to start up the game, seeing how his face practically lit up when the intro music began playing.

you let your body relax into his as you eyed his movements, noticing the little crook in his brow as he was throughly concentrated on getting the controls correct. "1998 ... i'll never forget it." he softly muttered, syncing his voice with leon's as the opening scene began to play out. it was as if he's played this game countless times, which would appear to you as surprising considering he's never stated he even liked the idea of horror games. "you remember it all?" you reply with a snarky tone, snickering to yourself as you adjusted yourself on him. he lightly shrugged and looked to you as the opening scene continued to play on, "not all, just enough from my brother playing it when i was small." he mumbled as he was trying his best to focus on you and the opening scene at the same time, it'd had to have been years since he touched this game. so multitasking was something he'd have to push himself to do. especially when it came to you.

you saw how his attention went back to the screen as the scene faded out, leaving him to his own defenses when playing it. hoping that he wouldn't get jump-scared and jolt his body against yours, cause that'd just be embarrassing. you yawned and sprawled your stretching arms around his waist and let your body sink into the couch further, your head practically at his hip now; not that he really minded. he was pretty much a pillow anyway you laid on him, and even if he didn't outwardly show it, he was happy to be that small ounce of comfort for you. even if it meant making half of his body go to sleep as he mindlessly played video games.

he could feel your body slipping against his, letting his hand scruff up the top of your head with a low chuckle. you looked up to him, enjoying this new point of view of him. how he had his tongue slightly poked from his lips as he walked through the forest in the game, seeing how focused he was to not get startled by a zombie of some sort. his body slightly leaning forward to eye the screen better, you could tell there was about to be a jump-scare of some nature; you just thought it was hilarious to not entail him about it. curling up a smile as he turned a corner, attempting to find the village, and being met with his fate. a loud roar from a zombie rung through the speakers, making him immediately jump in his place. with that silly reaction, you just couldn't help but snicker to yourself about it. making him snap his head to you with a furrowed brow, "you're not funny." he snaps, the newfound adrenaline still working its way into his system.

you just shake your head and nuzzle your cheek into his side with another giggle, "you were so startled, i couldn't help it," you stammer out in the midst of your choked out laughter. he slowly shook his head at you and narrowed his eyes softly, "fine then, you make a grand attempt at it." he snickered out, secretly hoping you'd agree to his plea. he was already imagining how cute you'd look while focusing intently to the video game. you shrug and lean your body back up straight, taking the controller from his hand with a smile. you were a little excited to make him look like a dweeb, to say the least. you adjust your body against the couch, whereas he was already letting his chin rest in his palm as he eyed your movements. even tired, he thought you were the most heart piercing he could fathom. you could see him in your peripheral vision as you moved the controls to walk through the alley. focusing on the incoming noises, for a game that was made twenty years; it sure wasn't playing about thrill factor. guess that's why they call it a classic, yeah?

he was incredibly dead-set on seeing you get started, seemed like he was paying attention to the background noise more than before; which is hilarious considering he was the one who needed to worry about it when playing it for himself. you navigated the gravel and keep your focus on anything incoming, your body involuntarily pulling closer to the edge of the couch. the sight making schlatt try his best to bite back a laugh, seeing you so focused but so exhausted was definitely a visionary. you neared closer to a little shack, immediately clicking on the switch to a hand held. seemed like common sense, y'know dark small place is going to equal the perfect opportunity to scare the shit out of the player. you walked into the shed, hoping to find some sort of loot of some kind, being met with a raging zombie that was growling loudly through the speaker. which in turn, didn't make you jump. it just made schlatt jump. yeah, he really was not cut out for games like this, it was cute to see him attempt them though. you look to him for a moment and back to the screen with a smile as you shot down the zombie, collecting the loot that fell from the character.

you dropped the controller in your lap, trailing your eyes back to him with a snarky giggle; knowing full well the look on his face was not an expression of him being impressed. he just slowly shook his head and gently took the controller from your lap, the slow movement almost being funnier than his face alone. you try your best to not burst out laughing, tight lining your lips and slowly breathing to control yourself. "this game sucks anyways." he stammers out, swiftly putting the controller on the coffee table before flinging his body closer to yours to pull you into a kiss, you could feel the grin from his lips as he did so. "i still have mario kart against you." he snickers out as he pulls himself off of your lips slightly, pressing his lips back onto yours before you could even get the chance to defend yourself. you lightly pat his shoulder in an attempt to get your words out, but his muffled laughter was evidence enough that he didn't like the idea of that. instead, just smothering himself on you. seemed like a much better idea of a fun night, considering he really wasn't that invested in the game. rather that you were in his grasp after such a long while.

you successfully pull yourself off of him to look him in the eye, trying to get your words out in the air despite your infectious laughter. "so you're saying we should retry mario kart?" you stifle out with a smile, his hands continuing to move down your back with a slow motion. "i don't think i want to be cussed out by yoshi again." he chuckles out, his reply making you roll your eyes and nudge his shoulder lightly. "maybe it'll be waluigi this time." you claim, letting your body fall completely on the soft cushion. the sight alone making schlatt slowly not care about mario kart as much. he attempted to get his priorities in check, "so now you're copying me with wario? wow..." he replied with a smug grin plastered on his face. you reach your hand up and shake his face with your palm in a playful aggressive manner, immediately making his face scrunch up in confusion and amusement.

"i say you be daisy, y'know considering all the fuss between her and wario." he slyly spoke, leaning his face towards yours as you laid against the cushion. "what? because you look like him too?" you snicker, making him roll his eyes with a low chuckle. "oh, shut the fuck up." he playfully pokes before kissing you again, letting his hands trail down your arms. you giggle into the kiss once more, lightly tugging at the collar of his shirt to bring him in closer. drifting your hands to his neck, feeling the roughness of his beard trying to grow under his chin. he let his lips leave yours just so he could get a better look of you underneath him, silently thanking whatever being let him have this gracious view. "you're pretty like daisy too." he stammered out, sighing softly and keeping his eyes on you in near disbelief, "guess that compliments for my mean mug, yeah?" he adds on, making you blow a raspberry and shake your head with a choked out giggle.

"whatever that means." you sigh out, you knew you were getting tired but this whole thing was too much fun to miss out on. he could see it in your eyes, and a small part of him decided to go easier on you. considering your hell of a work week, if you'd allow it; he'd just let you live comfortably under him. he respected you enough to let you have your independence though, or at least until you brought it up. "you know exactly what that means, baby." he cooed out before slipping his hand underneath you to raise you up, seeing how exhausted you were from the look in your eye. you just allowed him to move you like a rag doll, eventually leaning against his shoulder and sighing from the immense comfort of how soft he was. he grabbed the controller and switched out of the game, putting on gran turismo 4, seemed more appropriate to play while he let you sleep. he promised you that anyhow.

you let your eyes softly shut as you heard the opening music ring from the speakers, wrapping your arms around him once more. he looked to your tired demeanor for a moment before continuing on with the game. feeling a smile growing on his lips as he drank in the moment, hoping you wouldn't open your eyes and see his lingering eyes. "days if you want." he softly whispered, as he looked down to your twitchy body falling asleep. he didn't seem to get a reply, safely assuming your body had enough of the day. he couldn't really ask for more though, you were here. it's all he could ask for on a night like this. he sighed and gently kissed the top of your head before trailing his eyes back to the screen. letting his head rest against the top of yours with a warm grin. you didn't take one bite of the snacks he specifically bought for you, but he was just secretly hoping that meant you'd be over long enough to enjoy them in the daytime. this was enough for him in the meantime.

author's note : i swear i was kickin' my feet when writing this, i LOVE soft schlatt. i hope you enjoyed !! i hope i can make my posting schedule more consistent soon, so in the meantime i throughly appreciate your patience :,) also thank you so much for the kind words with my return and stuff, you guys are actual sweethearts.

#jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt x y/n #fanfic #rpf #writing #fluff

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fourthavecafe · 2 months ago

Note

My face and ears are so red reading your work oh my god, I love it.

I have a request, pleaseee?: Nanami trying to give reader a full body massage? Key word: trying lol

nanami trying to just give you a normal massage

(note-thank you so much for liking my work I hope you enjoy reading this and I’m so sorry for taking forever I hope you’re still around love 🤍)

______๑♡⁠๑______

The evening was serene with soft, warm lighting filling the room and the calming scent of lavender lingering in the air.

You lay on the plush massage table, feeling utterly relaxed, as Nanami's hands worked skillfully over your shoulders, melting away any tension.

His hands were firm yet gentle, kneading your muscles with expert precision and you felt an overwhelming sense of peace and gratitude.

Nanami was always the perfect husband, attentive and thoughtful in every way but moments like this made you feel cherished beyond words.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked, his voice low and warm, as his hands moved slowly down your back.

You nodded, a soft smile on your face.

"Completely" you murmured, sighing as his hands moved with practiced ease, loosening each knot he found.

As he continued, his hands ventured toward your arms, gliding down to your underarms with the same gentle pressure.

But when he brushed the sensitive spot there, you felt a ticklish sensation you couldn't quite contain, letting out a small giggle before you could stop yourself.

Nanami noticed immediately, pausing for a second. "Ticklish, are we?" he asked softly, a hint of amusement in his voice. Instead of lingering, though, he moved his hands away respectfully, focusing on your back once more.

But as he worked his way down toward your hips, his fingers brushed over your hip bones and you giggled again, unable to resist the ticklish sensation.

This time, he let his hands pause and you could practically feel the smile forming on his face.

"Interesting" he said, his voice laced with playful curiosity. "I didn't realize you were quite so sensitive."

You felt your cheeks warm but before you could respond, his hands moved back toward your hips with a much lighter touch, this time deliberately grazing over the sensitive spots that had made you laugh before.

"Nanami-!" you managed, squirming as his hands trailed over your sides with just enough pressure to make you wiggle, laughter spilling out despite your best efforts to stay still.

"Hmm?" he replied innocently, though his hands continued their light, ticklish dance over your sides, tracing from your hips up toward your ribs with maddening precision.

"Nanami, please!" you laughed, squirming as he explored every ticklish spot with a smirk.

"You're doing this on purpose!"

He chuckled, his normally serious expression softened with rare playfulness. "Well, I did start out giving you a massage" he said with a slight smile, "but I didn't realize l'd find such... interesting reactions."

As his fingers brushed over your ribs, you couldn't hold back your laughter, twisting and trying to escape his grasp but his hands held you gently in place, fingers expertly teasing your sides.

"Alright, alright, I surrender!" you managed between fits of laughter, trying to catch your breath.

He finally relented, his hands moving back to your shoulders, returning to his original, gentle touch. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to your temple, smiling as you finally caught your breath.

"Feel better now?" he asked, his tone soft and affectionate.

You nodded, a bit breathless, unable to resist smiling back. "you can be so unpredictable nanami."

"As long as you're happy" he murmured, his hands resuming their tender, soothing movements, bringing the evening back to the gentle, romantic moment it had started as, with a little added laughter along the way.

#tickle fic #tickletorture #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader

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eurydicees · 1 month ago

Text

someone tell the court jester i love his smile

summary: elphaba and fiyero talk about what's true and real, and what's not. pairings: fiyero tigelaar/elphaba thropp words: 2992 warnings: none notes: not technically a prompt but this was inspired by conversations with @napo-con-fritas and @mollrat101 about fiyero with adhd and how the outsider perception of that might impact his self-perception and thus his relationship with elphaba. this fic kind of got derailed from the original topic lol, but thanks for the inspo n i hope u enjoy!

Fiyero is talking, but he’s not really saying anything. He’s just kind of rambling about something that Elphaba isn’t quite following. It’s something about a stray cat he had seen on the street that day while he was out shopping, and how the cat reminded him of someone he knew in elementary school, which somehow led his ramblings to something about the magical fish in a well at his family’s castle in the Vinkus.

She swears that she does usually listen to what he has to say—contrary to what seems to be the popular belief about their relationship, she does actually care about his thoughts and opinions—but something about this particular one-sided conversation is itching at the back of her mind like the final piece to a puzzle she’s been putting together for awhile now. She’s not quite sure what it is, but there’s something important that she’s missing.

He talks with his hands, she notices. He makes both large, exaggerated gestures as he talks just as often as he fiddles and fusses with whatever he can find around him: a piece of paper that he’s methodically ripping to pieces, a ring he wears that he’s usually twisting around or tossing up and down in his palm, a pen or pencil he spins around his pointer finger. It’s really whatever he can get his hands on.

Just generally speaking, Fiyero is constantly in motion. He’s not good at sitting still, or staying stagnant. He’s constantly bouncing his knee or tapping his fingers in basic rhythms against the table, shifting around in his seat during class, or toying with a strand of his hair that’s long enough to wrap around his finger and tug at. It feels like he’s just always a blur of movement, moving through the world at a velocity that Elphaba fears she sometimes has trouble keeping up with.

She doesn’t always know where he’s going at that pace that he runs with, but his mind is constantly running forward. He’s always halfway to the next thought, the third step ahead, before he’s finished with the first sentence. It makes for strange leaps and connections in their conversations and in his logic sometimes, but there is—again, contrary to popular belief—always a real thread from point A to point B.

Fiyero pauses his talking, looking at her with something unreadable on his face. “You’re not listening, are you?”

She blinks. She didn’t realize that she had gotten so caught up in her own thoughts and her analysis of her boyfriend. She loves him, and she knows him, and she knows better than to zone out like that. His ability to sense other people’s disinterest is sharper than she had thought it to be upon first meeting—but it didn’t take long after that realization to understand that this ability is so well-honed because of how hurt and subdued he gets over that disinterest.

“Sorry,” she mutters. She also knows better than to lie to him. He’s always been able to see right through her, somehow. “Just zoned out for a minute. Keep talking, I’m listening now.”

Fiyero licks his lips, studying her carefully. “What’re you thinking about?”

Elphaba shrugs, looking down at the book she had been reading before he wandered into her and Galinda’s room looking to spend time with her after being exiled by his roommate for the night. She’s curled up in her bed, a small crocheted blanket draped over her lap, while he sits at her desk chair.

He’s doing that thing, she notes to herself. The thing where he tugs at the ring on his finger—he always wears it on a finger that seems just a little too tight for it to fit right—then seems surprised that it comes off. And he’s bouncing his knee again. It’s not anxiety, because the rest of his posture is perfectly relaxed. He just doesn’t seem to get stillness.

She hums, trying to figure out how to put into words the things she thinks she’s maybe uncovering about him. The thing is that she’s not quite sure what it is exactly that she’s uncovered. She just knows that there’s something she’s missing about him, something that she wants to be allowed to understand.

Elphaba loves him, is the thing. She’s not quite sure when that development really took place, but after only a few weeks of dating, she’s pretty sure that he’s her first real love. He sees her, in a way that very few people have ever wanted to try to see her.

Most importantly, he actually wants her as she is. Not the dulled, dimmed version of herself that she sometimes wants to carve herself into for the sake of social acceptance. Not the Galinda-fied version of herself that she tentatively has been experimenting with. Not the fiery, angry, defensive version of herself that she falls back upon as a safety mechanism. No, he just wants her as she is and as she wants to be.

She wants to give the same thing back to him. She likes to think that she understands him well by now at least, but really she wants to give him the same sense of comfort that he’s given her. She wants him to feel at ease with her.

And then it clicks. That’s what it is. He is at ease, he’s by no means on edge when he’s around her, but he’s also still always keeping up what’s an act of sorts. It’s not that he’s being fake or lying in any way, it’s more that he’s still desperately trying to mold himself into something palatable, a pill that’s easy to swallow, the kind of person that’s easy to want.

He’s constantly trying to get her attention, trying to keep it, whether that’s by talking about things that neither of them care about or by telling prodding jokes until she laughs or asking her to rant about the latest book she’s read for hours. He’s constantly trying to keep her entertained, keep her laughing, keep her eyes on him.

Doesn’t he know? she wonders. I’m always looking at him, whether or not he’s being bright and loud.

It doesn’t matter if it’s easy to love him or not—which, at the end of the day, it was so easy to fall in love with him, even if she’s well aware that it’s much harder to keep him—and it doesn’t matter if he’s what she ever expected to want. It doesn’t matter if he’s keeping her entertained, not really.

What matters is that he’s there. What matters is not if he’s easy to understand or easy to want, what matters is that being around him is like being free. Being around him gives her the freedom to be who she wants to, gives her the bravery to try to be who she actually is, at the end of the day. Being around him is like being set alight, like waking up after a long sleep to find that the world is just that much brighter now.

What matters is that he’s trustworthy, and that he’s proved himself to be so again and again. What matters is that she cares about this boy who wormed his way into her heart despite all her defenses, despite all her crude remarks, despite all their differences. What matters is that—palatable, popular, suave, prettyboy or none of the above—she wants to stay at his side.

She’ll do the work of loving him, she’ll put in the commitment and the effort to keep up with him. It’s not about being easy to want or easy to love. For her, love is about the act of trying. And oh, how she’ll try for him.

Finally, she says, honestly, “I’m thinking about you.”

He raises his eyebrows at that. He’s back to tearing tiny pieces of a paper apart, shredding it into small squares that flutter to the surface of the desk and pile up there like paper snowflakes. “What about me? I was talking about the fish of my childhood, it’s not really anything important to my psyche.”

There it is—the way he downplays so much of what he says. Like he’s worried that she’ll think it has no value and so he’s trying to take the value away before she can do it for him. Something about that irks her a little; Elphaba has never wanted anything more than for him to trust her, with all of himself, and part of that is trusting that she cares.

“Do you think we would have been friends if we met as kids?” she blurts out.

It’s not really what she wanted to ask, not really what she had been thinking about, but the thought occurred to her when he asked that and she—she doesn’t really know the answer. She’s not sure if she even wants to know, but now the question is there, lingering in the air between them.

He blinks, clearly not expecting the question. He pauses, thinking as he rips up that piece of paper. It looks like a blank sheet from a notebook, so no important notes are getting destroyed, but she really hopes it isn’t from the nice notebook.

“I don’t know,” he says slowly. “You seem like you were pretty introverted as a kid, weren’t you? I might have been a bit too much for you. Too loud. Bright. Noisy.”

“I suppose,” Elphaba says thoughtfully. “It would have been nice if we could have gotten along.”

He shrugs, staring down at his pile of paper scraps. “I was…a lot. As a kid. Hard to handle.”

“Maybe.” Elphaba watches the deft, easy movements of his hands as he sorts the scraps of paper into piles of large and medium and small sizes. “I was, too. To be fair.”

He snorts. “What a pair we would have made. School jester and livewire introvert.”

Elphaba rolls her eyes at the comparison, but doesn’t deny it. She does kind of walk through the world like a livewire, constantly balancing on the edge of electrifying everything around her. It was even worse as a child and she’s well aware of that. She does think it was—at least partially—justified, given how people treated her, but still.

“School jester?” she asks, instead of arguing the point.

“Something like that,” Fiyero says vaguely, flapping a hand in some random direction as if to dismiss the phrase. “The reputation immediately prior to ‘heartbreaker prince’ was probably ‘court fool.’”

She wants to say that that sounds kind of harsh, kind of cruel to himself, but he says it so neutrally that she doesn’t really know what to do with it. He sounds less like he’s offended by the words and more like he’s long since accepted them as gospel.

She still wants to argue with him, tell him that he’s so much more than either of those things. She wants to tell him all of the things that she sees in him, all of the brilliant, beautiful pieces to his heart that add up to so much more than an archetype. She wants to tell him that heartbreaker and court fool are impossibly small, diminishing words compared to all that she knows to be true of him.

But for some reason, all of those words escape her. Maybe there just aren’t enough words in the language to explain all of that easily and simply.

Instead, Elphaba asks him, “Is that why you do that?”

“Do what?”

She looks down at the book in her lap, running her finger along the spine in a smooth, grounding motion. He’s gone back to tearing the paper in half and the rhythmic sound of ripping paper is another grounding sense.

“That thing you do,” Elphaba says, unhelpfully. He just stares at her, not understanding, and she sighs. He’s been receptive to this conversation so far, she might as well push her luck a little. Her words spill out faster, harsher, than she means them when she says, “That whole act. Like you don’t care about anything or want to try at anything, when I know you do. Is it because of that? Because you think that’s all you are?”

Immediately, something in Fiyero’s expression closes off. “Don’t psychoanalyze me, Elphaba.”

She swallows, looking up at him and standing her ground. She’s not sure it’s the right decision, but when has that really ever stopped her? “It’s just an observation.”

He raises his eyebrows again—the only sign that he isn’t actually upset with her. “And what exacty are you observing right now?”

“You’re never still,” Elphaba says. “Not physically, or mentally, or emotionally. You’re always moving onto the next idea or project, even if the first one doesn’t get finished. And the whole time, you’re trying to get people to keep up with you. Trying to keep them laughing.”

“Is that really so bad of a thing?” he asks, something heavy in his voice. “To want to keep people entertained?”

Elphaba shrugs. “Not necessarily.”

They’re both quiet for a moment, staring at that unsorted pile of ripped up paper. His hands have stilled, but his knee is bouncing again. He hooks his foot around at the leg of the chair to still himself, as if now that she’s pointed it out, he’s too aware of it. She wonders for a moment how much of this he’s actually ever noticed about himself.

Elphaba sighs again. She places the book on the nightstand and then neatly folds the blanket to her side so that she can stand up and cross the room to meet Fiyero at the desk chair. Slowly, she leans down to kiss him. It’s a tender, soft kiss; the kind of kiss that takes its time, because it’s in no rush to find anything more than what it is.

Fiyero’s hands go to her waist, pulling her into his lap without breaking the kiss. When they finally pull apart, she’s sitting on top of him with one of his hands on her waist and the other on her thigh. She has her arms resting on his shoulders, hands stretched out behind his head.

“But you’re more than that, you know.”

Fiyero frowns, clearly having lost track of the conversation. He opens his mouth as if to ask what she means, and then it sinks in. She can see the moment that it does, the moment that it all falls into place. It settles on his expression like the paper shreds settle onto the desk.

“And you don’t have to be the—the entertainment of the court for me to want to be around you.”

Saying all of this is awkward, and strange, and vulnerable in a way that Elphaba is unfamiliar with. She doesn’t really know how to express her feelings like this. Between the two of them, Fiyero is the one always murmuring praise and compliments and truths that she’s still working on believing.

You’re beautiful. So wonderful. So smart. The world in my arms. The moonlight pooling in my hands. Even if our time on this land is limited, at least I get this moment. Even if nothing else, I’m okay if I have this. Have you. So pretty. All mine, all yours.

“You’re enough as you are,” Elphaba says, looking into his eyes, not quite sure how to read his expression at the moment. “However you want to be. I don’t need you to be the court entertainment for me to want to spend time with you. I’m not going anywhere. It’s good enough to just be around you, loud and exciting or quiet and calm.”

She hesitates, waiting for him to say something. When he doesn’t, she chews at her lip for a moment before asking, “You do know that, right? That I’m not going anywhere if you tell a bad joke or a boring story or have a low day in general?”

“I—” he cuts himself off, clearing his throat.

He breaks eye contact, looking towards the desk and the pile of shreds of papers. One hand is tapping something out on her waist, a strange beat and pressure against her skin that she can’t quite place the melody of.

“I know,” Fiyero finishes, in the way you would acknowledge something you didn’t know before that moment. Then, a little more confident, “I know.”

She presses another slow kiss to his lips, bold in her ministrations of love as she moves her kisses to his cheek, to just below his earlobe, to his neck, to his collarbone. “It’s not a bad thing to be hard to handle. There’s very little you could do to scare me off at this point.”

Fiyero lets out a shaky breath, pulling back slightly so that he can look at her, actually study her expression.

Then he says the last thing she expected: “This is real, isn’t it?”

Elphaba blinks. “I would hope so.”

“No, I mean—” he waves a hand vaguely through the air, making some unreadable motion with it— “I mean, this is what it’s actually supposed to be like, isn’t it? I just—I lose track of things, and dates, and times. And I jump around my thoughts. And I don’t really know how to study. All things you value. But you’re here.”

“Yeah,” Elphaba says slowly. “And I get angry and defensive, and snap at people, and sometimes throw things with my mind accidentally when I’m angry. And you’re here.”

“I am,” Fiyero says, a smile growing over his face. “I am here.”

Elphaba hums, and before she can reply, he’s kissing her again. He murmurs something into her mouth, something that she doesn’t quite catch, something that sounds like I love you but she can’t really be sure. They’ve never said that before.

Still, it’s kind of a shame he didn’t say it louder. She would have said it back. But for the time being, she just returns the kiss, and keeps the thought clenched close to her heart.

#this was banged out in like. an hour lol. so its not the most polished thing i've ever posted #but it entertained me to write so . whatever.#my writing #wicked #fiyeraba #fiyero tigelaar #elphaba thropp #fiyeraba fanfiction #fiyero x elphaba #elphaba x fiyero #wicked musical #wicked 2024 #wicked 2003

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empressdede · 7 months ago

Text

TikToks - Jimmy Uso

Based on this tiktok. A very short oneshot so I hope you enjoy

Paring :Jimmy x Y/N

Word count: 544 ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Wait babe, I wanna do it like the girl did in the video.” You instructed, grabbing his hand and pulling him off the bed to walk to the living room with you.

Jon decided to cut off his game because you were complaining that he wasn’t spending enough time with you on his day off before he was off again.

Jonathan obliged on giving you his attention but was quickly regretting it because now all you wanted to do was make tiktok videos.

“Didn’t you say you’re not flexible? How you gon be able to copy the lady if you can’t move yo legs like that” He stated in confusion but you were determined.

“I know but I started doing yoga a month ago remember? I wanna see if I can do it.”

“If you bust yo ass, imma laugh at you I swear.” Jon warned causing you to smack your teeth.

“Boy just lay down and wait for me to do it.” You had searched for the perfect place to set up the camera in the living room before walking back to where Jon was.

The video counting down before it started, but you thought it had started soo you started to stretch your legs out and continued. You lost balance and fell forward but your hands caught your fall and you continued to go further into the split until you felt your core touch his lips.

Two different reactions came from the two of you. His more vocal than yours when he started to laugh in disbelief. “That’s crazy, get off right now.” He demanded through his laughs.

He kept repeating himself which caused you to laugh and walk from him when he felt himself start to chub up and immediately moved to cup his front and fold his legs into his stomach. “Yooooo, I ain’t gon lie to y’all-“

You giggled at his reaction as you watched him turn away from the camera to get up. “Babe I swear, I didn’t even know I could do that.”

“That’s craaazzzyyy” He responded, his mind lowkey forgetting they had did this for a tiktok. You don’t wear panties around the house and not only did you put his pussy in his face but he got a whiff of your scent. He was on demon time now.

“No, babe you gotta go back, I gotta do that one more time.”

He shook his head as he finally stood up and faced you. “Imma be honest, I can’t go back. If you do that one more time, clothes is coming off and I’m just being honest.”

“That’s fine baby I just wanna- oh wow”

And that’s when you seen it. And remembered this was absolutely still being recorded.

You jumped off the couch to stand in front of him but Your laughs made you weak to your knees. Jon covered himself and the both of you just laughed at his predicament of getting a boner from just that one thing.

When the cameras finally stopped recording, you still laughing looked at Jon with an amused look on your face. “You good now babe?”

“Nah, come do that shit again with no clothes on. Imma get you right baby.”

So much for those tiktok videos huh?

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You know whats so crazy is this was not the tiktok I originally planned to write for Jimmy but this one felt like it was more him.

How we feeling? Lol Romans is up next, Ive had a lot of fun writing these.

Tagging the lovelies: @whatdoeseverybodywant @wrestlingprincess80 @blacst4r @alyyaanna @tbmotw @nbanenefrmdao @christinabae

#empressdede #empresswriting #wwe #black reader #jimmy uso #Tiktokjimmyuso #jimmy uso x black reader #jimmy uso x reader #jimmy uso x oc

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ts1m1kas · 8 months ago

Text

Original Ask: Hii can I request a jealous!max verstappen x reader where they’re secretly dating but the other drivers keep flirting with her lol (anonymous)

Word Count: 580 words

(author's note: first f1 fic, i hope you all enjoy !! 🫶)

When Max and Y/N finally started dating, Max requested one thing from his girlfriend; they kept their relationship private. Y/N had agreed immediately, understanding that life as an F1 driver’s girlfriend could become stressful at times.

However, Max began to regret his decision when he spotted Y/N and Charles talking animatedly outside the Ferrari garage. He stood watching from afar, grinding his teeth in annoyance.

“So Max is taking you to Bali? That’s nice,” Charles commented, smiling at the woman in front of him.

“Yes, he is! When he heard it’s somewhere I’ve always wanted to go, he booked the tickets immediately. We’re going together at the start of the off-season.”

“That is the most Max thing I’ve ever heard. I'm excited for you, though, Bali’s gorgeous.”

Y/N laughed, “You’re not wrong. Are you and Alexandra planning on going anywhere?”

“I think she mentioned wanting to go to France? I can’t remember off the top of my head, but we’re definitely thinking of going away.”

“That sounds lovely. Please do tell her I say hello.”

Max had decided he couldn’t take it any longer. He stormed over to Y/N and Charles and put on the fakest smile he could muster.

“Everything okay over here? You both seem to be having fun.”

“Hi Maxie, Charles was just telling me about his holiday plans with Alex!” Y/N said happily, turning round to look at her boyfriend.

“Yeah? Well, I think we’re needed in the garage, so we should probably get going. Wouldn’t want to keep Christian waiting.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later Charles, good luck with the race!”

“Bye Y/N, see you around,” Charles replied, waving goodbye.

Max began walking off in the direction of the Red Bull garage, with Y/N hot on his heels. When they finally arrived, Y/N turned to face Max.

“I know Christian didn’t need us Max, are you gonna tell me what’s going on?”

Max scratched the back of his head, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

“Maxie? You can tell me, I won’t laugh at you.”

“You talking to Charles made me a little jealous.”

“A little?” Y/N said, raising her eyebrow.

“Okay, a lot. I shouldn’t have pulled you away from him like that, I’m sorry, schatz.”

“It’s okay, lovie, just remember I'm yours and only yours.”

Max pulled Y/N into a grateful hug. He knew he could be irrational sometimes, but he was thankful that his girlfriend was always there to ground him and remind him that she loved him.

“I think,” Max started, “That I'd like to go public.”

“Are you sure, you know I don't mind either way, Maxie,” Y/N responded, looking up at her boyfriend.

“It might help if others know that you're mine. They should flirt with you less.”

Y/N slapped him gently on the chest, “They don't flirt with me Max, don't be ridiculous. It would be impossible for anyone to flirt with me when you're standing a metre away staring daggers at them.”

“I suppose, but I still want to tell everyone.”

“Okay then, whatever you want.”

Max pulled Y/N into another hug, “I'm sorry again for earlier.”

“It's okay, I know what you're like by now. You and your irrational thoughts.”

Max laughed, and the pair remained in each other's embrace for a while. Until Christian actually did need them both, and Max had to detangle himself from Y/N with a disappointed and discontented sigh.

#f1 #fanfiction #fanfic #f1 drivers #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen imagine #by ts1m1kas

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cocogum · 24 days ago

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The Great Wave - Chapter 14 Review

‼️SPOILERS FOR THE CHAPTER‼️

This chapter felt shorter than the other ones in this second volume so far.

But that doesn't matter.

CUZ GUYS WE FINALLY SEE DATHURA AGAIN ‼️❤️‼️❤️‼️❤️‼️❤️‼️❤️‼️‼️❤️

When the chapter covers were only available, I originally thought that she ended up being the guardian of the Tree of Life but it looks like she just settled somewhere vacant in the Sadida Kingdom.

I don't mind cuz as long as she's there, I'm happy hehe 💗💗 She's such a beauty omg

Dathura saying that she's been called once again by Amalia makes me assume that Dathura asked for her help once before but we know it couldn't have been in Season 4 because she was only seen protecting the Tree of Life as it's last defense.

So the first time Amalia has asked for help must've been in Season 5 when Harebourg will be seen as the antagonist. I'm only making assumptions here but it could be true. In a way, it makes sense because Dathura technically does have a connection to Harebourg since she used to be a past member of the Brotherhood of the Frogotten just like him. So maybe she could have helped Amalia by trying to talk to Harebourg or maybe explain to Amalia what may be going when he'll become a problem for her kingdom. Because let's not forget the fact that he wanted Amalia's kingdom to have endless wood to warm up Frigost.

But anyways, Amalia asks Dathura to help her find a remedy for Yugo.

Cuz apparently the belladonna only slowed the process. It didn't actually fade away on its own because it thought it did its job.

Dathura disconnects herself from her meditation spot and guides Amalia to some hidden territory in the Sadida Kingdom.

I found it a bit odd when Amalia asked her where they were here, since she was supposed to have lived in the kingdom her entire life AND WAS ABSOLUTELY THE TYPE OF KID TO HAVE ROAMED AROUND THE PLACE AND MEMORIZE ALL OF IT BY HEART.

But then again, this entire area is ALIVE so it can do whatever the fuck it wants lol

Dathura just flies away as if she didn't say the most hippie spiritual shit ever.

BUT LOOK AT AMALIA'S ADORABLE FACE WHEN SHE ADMIRES THE PLACE 💗💕💗💗💗💗💗

my little queen is such a softie for nature 💖💖💖

Also let me just say how much I love the fact that Dathura is referring to Yugo as "our" king. She was so chill with Yugo in season 3 and we can tell that she's still cool with him because she accepts him as the king of the Sadida Kingdom.

And that speaks A LOT on so many levels when you know that some sadida citizens do not accept Yugo's people but then you got a part of the Sadida God literally being cool with the king they hate. Like come on now, if you're a sadida AND an eliatrope hater, what are you doing??? You keep blabbing about how the eliatropes are being a menace and "staining" your sadida culture when one of your demigoddesses (who LITERALLY keeps a portion of your god's power, mind you) is straight up just vibing with the man you hate.

Like seriously Amalia you gotta shut them up someday or another.

Another thing that I enjoyed was that I now know, thanks to Dathura, that there is a shortened way to say Grougalorasalar's name. It's Asalar and I don't know why but I find it so cute to say 💕💕 Like it's cool and yet adorable at the same time I don't know how else to explain it.

Amalia then explains what Grougalorasalar wanted and that he'll start attacking again if Yugo doesn't accept giving away the artifacts.

But I am SO GLAD that out of all the things Yugo refuses to give, it's the eliatrope dofus for very obvious reasons.

Like I explained back in the last chapter, Grougalorasalar wanted the Eliasphere since it doesn't belong to them and because Yugo's people have a habit of naming things after their people if they find any powerful artifacts that can support them. But in no way, shape or form does Yugo ever need to give his eliatrope dofus to him. These eliatrope dofus literally belong to the eliatropes because, again, those are the primordial eliatropes' recall points. Not to mention that they've been created by THE ELIATROPE GODDESS.

Like come on what is bro doing asking for something that belongs to them!? I agreed with him about how Yugo and his people were actual troublemakers without even trying, but taking away the dofus that respawns them?? Hell nah man, I stay away from that shit.

So Dathura picks out a plant and properly reduces it to the actual remedy before she tells Amalia to discuss this whole Grougalorasalar situation with Joris.

After everything he's done for the world, it looks like bro still can't get away from the short height allegations from mortals and immortals alike 😭😭

Talking to Joris makes the most sense since he used to be Asalar's vessel but yay, we get to see Joris back! I can just tell that all the joris fans were happy to see him in that 15th chapter cover and now get to see him being mentioned in this chapter lol

DATHURA CALLED AMALIA A FRIEND DISLDKDLWPWPROFODOEEO 💖💗💖💗💗💖💗💖💗💖💗💖💗💖💖💗💗💖💖💗💗💖

Anyways, after suggesting Amalia to speak with Joris about all this, she warns her not to upset Grougalorasalar no matter what hers and Yugo's decision will be.

Don't worry shawty, these two morons got this in the bag 🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢

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kozachenko · 1 year ago

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[Click image for better quality]

I FIGURED OUT A WAY TO FUCKING MAKE THE IMAGE SMALLER FOR POSTING ON TUMBLR WITHOUT SACRIFICING THE ACTUAL QUALITY OF THE IMAGE OH MY GOD

Ok so, what I did is go into the clip studio paint file, make a new file, copy and paste the group in the original file, merge everything, get rid of the extra stuff outside of the canvas, and then make the flattened image smaller and crop the canvas. Once you have that, export it and you're done. This helps maintain the actual quality of the image and also helps shrink the file size down to something actually postable (if anyone has a better way of doing this please tell me)

[Edit]: Ok I guess posting something to Tumblr just naturally compresses the image a bit more somehow because I'm looking at it now and zooming in too much makes it a bit blurry so I'm still gonna have to futz around with image quality for future pieces oof

Artist's Note:

I'm so glad I figured out a way to do this because I like working on a big canvas so I can get as much detail in as I possibly can. Only problems are how laggy it gets while drawing lol.

I had an idea for a drawing with Reimu and Zanmu because I really like thinking about their potential dynamic a lot. I also wanted an excuse to draw Zanmu again but in my normal rendering style because last time I drew her she was in my more sketchy style with generally flat colours so I wanted to draw her again. Speaking of, looking at the sketch for this is a jumpscare that I never enjoy seeing, like, man am I glad I didn't use those for my final piece.

Also about her spear. I was originally gonna make it like the ones she had in game, but it kinda threw off the whole piece. It was too big, too blue, and too flat, so I just went "fuck it" and gave her a different one instead. My headcanon justifying this is that the ones she uses in game are for danmaku battles whereas in any other fight she just uses a proper yari, or she still uses the yari and just makes it all glowy to power it up, maybe both lol. I pulled as much inspiration as I could from Sengoku era spears, and even put in some blue into the decorative part of the spear and also added a little skull to pay tribute to the original spear. Also, in my research I saw some art of izanami and izanagi making japan and saw that the yari izanagi has had a little decorative tassley thingy on it so I took some inspo from that and just made it one of Zanmu's tassles (Idk when that art was from or if the spear was still accurate to Sengoku period Japan but hey, probably the same reasons Eirin puts little bow ties on her arrows, it's just for personalization purposes).

I love rendering hair and clothes so much omg, while I like the super curly hair Zanmu, the longer, wavier hair suits her better for this drawing (I imagine it only does that like how Ghibli characters hair moves when they feel angry lol). I love making Zanmu's hair all messy and crazy, as well as giving her grey hairs, this woman has aged like a fine wine. Also, if the hem on the ends of her sleeves, top of her shirt, and her pants look like gold to you, that's because it is! It's fairly light so she's not collapsing under the weight, but it's gold! (I don't care how impractical it is, it's just cool). Not the undershirt though, it's made of a gold fabric. I had a cute idea with Reimu's hair to make it have a red shine to it. I also changed up Reimu's outfit so it isn't just a blob of red. I like it a lot when Reimu's skirt and outfit is segmented into different layers, so I wanted to incorporate that.

I tried to draw their hands differently as well, but IDK how noticeable that is. Also, I am super happy with how the side profiles for the two of them turned out, I used to struggle a lot with how to make the side profile of a character actually look like the character, so I'm really happy that they actually look like themselves.

Also added in the tree and rocks in the background as an homage to Zanmu's character art in Touhou 19, just because I was getting kinda stumped on what to do with the background lol.

In terms of a story idea with Reimu and Zanmu, idk why but the potential plotline of Zanmu wanting to ascend to godhood is so fascinating to me. Like, it is very possible that if she just convinced everyone she was a god (which would be very easy for her to do), she would become one in a heartbeat. Also, if she were to become a god, with her ability to return stuff to nothing, could she hypothetically get similar abilities to (Jojo Part 5 spoiler btw) GER? Like, idk about the death timeloop stuff, but the concept has been haunting me every night as I have been trying to find loopholes in GER's ability for a while now ( for no reason in particular). Back to the main topic, I imagine that she would probably tell Reimu that if she were to become a god she would take over the Hakurei shrine since the god there might as well be dead, and Reimu just says to her, "Over my dead body bitch." Like, I have no idea how to summarize their dynamic but like, it's the type of hero-villain dynamic where the phrase "We're not so different, you and I" would definitely be a phrase said during a fight. I think that if another IN style game were to release, Reimu and Zanmu would be in a team together. They could also have an interesting mentor and pupil kind of dynamic. Can you tell that Zanmu has been charging my mind rent these part few months? Like, instead of living in my head rent free, she kinda just uno reversed the whole situation and now she's the one charging me rent. What happens if I get evicted from my own brain? Actually, scratch that, I don't think I wanna know.

#touhou project #art #fanart #touhou fanart #touhou 19 #touhou #東方project #zanmu nippaku #unfinished dream of all living ghost #reimu hakurei #東方

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barbatusart · 11 months ago

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bit of thinking outloud but for my current tactician run im doing a special wyll origins playthrough im calling the Evil Wyll Run & it’s given me a lot of food for thought about his character (or at least the freedom of psychological movement + exploration afforded to an origin run!)

wyll spoilers abound we’re entering the wyllenium here

wyll always felt a bit underwritten to me - i know that’s partially because there was that big kerfuffle in the 11th hour with changing his whole story and personality on top of having to recast his VA, and frankly hats off to both original VA lanre malaolu & new VA theo solomon for their hard work - both brought tremendous performances, & i sincerely hope mr malaolu was paid well for his work & time even if his voice wasn’t used in the final cut (i would also say warlock as a class itself felt a bit underdeveloped but im 100% OK with chalking that up to me the player not understanding how to play warlock effectively yet lol im more of a fighter barbarian Hit Stuff guy)

but honestly this feeling of being “underwritten” combined with a character with a long history of heroism in his pocket made wyll really interesting to me even in my tav playthrough. for all his accomplishments he still feels like a blank everyman, or like he’s someone who fully believes he’s the main character who doesn’t “need” to do any extra work on himself - and honestly he feels Very much like he could be The Main Character. once his backstory of the son of the duke was revealed too i immediately got the sense of like, rich boy trying to prove his worth beyond his wealth and status by striking out & becoming that hero, or that Prince Charming. basically that perfect happily ever after somebody. and im of the opinion that you don’t get mixed up with a cambion in the first place unless you’re either the kind of naïve “everything will just work out” immature that tends to comes with his status as the son of a noble, or you’re hungering for power. depending on playstyle he’s very easily both of these things

on the naïve front (ie a good wyll playthrough) if anything he feels very believably immature, & from that perspective the events of the game feel as though they’re the prequel to the actual start of wyll's story where he finally finds himself & learns what kind of man he really is. we just dont get to see it alas, but i really enjoyed the thought exercise of somebody still grappling with overcoming his own immaturity. he feels like someone who can still grow and that his tale is just beginning

Evil Wyll (meaning any time mizora shows up he drops everything to enact her instruction & hasnt once tried to find a loophole out of his contract) which ive come to be far more fascinated by is someone clearly vying for power, which is interesting because his noble status would’ve given him all the power he wants had he Played Nice. to me it speaks of someone who wants to be able to take what he wants from life without it being handed to him, which contrasts in a really fascinating way with entering into a warlock pact at all. maybe he thought it was better that it be a decision he made as opposed to nobility given to him by his family ties, maybe there’s still that pollyanna sentiment of “it’ll just work out & ill live happily ever after.” again maybe both. maybe in a sense the fiend, as he calls himself, is a good excuse to shuck off any poor decision he makes or any genuinely heinous thing he does under mizora’s instruction - an identity he uses as power fantasy (and very much in tandem/interchangeable with the blade of frontiers power fantasy) until it means taking ownership for any of his misdeeds, and then a scapegoat.

may be a bit incoherent but im only now hitting act 3 in my origin run & im Really enjoying this difficult characterization ive cooked up for myself lol

#wyll ravengard #baldur’s gate 3 #evyl wyll

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angelatsumu · 1 year ago

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allistic simon x autistic reader was just so heartwarming and relatable to read as i’m someone with the tism that often feels like a burden on others. it was so lovely, feeling like simon didn’t want to change the reader as a person or expect anything unreasonable of them, but rather accommodate them where he can. i also liked that he didn’t have to compromise himself and was able to do an activity he likes, but also care for reader! all around just really enjoyed the piece.

if i may, i’d love to request something where one of the reader’s safe foods/essential items is out of stock or being discontinued and how simon would help them navigate that situation. one of my fave essentials just got discontinued and i’m devastated lol ♥︎

hi there! i'm very happy that you enjoyed my first autistic reader piece. i'm sorry that your safe food is out of stock ): i get fairly frustrated when i can't have access to things that comfort me. i apologize in advanced for the subpar writing that will ensue this message.

allistic simon x autistic!reader: crisis averted

in which your lovely husband attempts to help you navigate the sudden unavailability of your safe food.

simon came back from his meeting on base a bit winded and more confused than when he'd originally left the home. the meeting was a cooperative planning session involving KorTac, and your husband failed to keep up with the newly-introduced objectives and profiles. his head hurt, frankly. the entire meeting he'd only been wondering what you'd been up to and if you missed him. when he finally entered your shared home, he was relieved to have the workday slide right off his broad, strong shoulders.

simon hummed as he heard the tapping of your PC keyboard, knowing you'd likely well into a deep dive of one of your special interests. he took off his boots by the door and calmly took steps toward the study, whistling as he walked. his eyes fell upon you in the throws of your own world of wonder, irises blown as you took in the information before you. Simon cleared his throat to grab your attention, and you peeled yourself away briefly to greet him. ,"hey Si," you hummed back distractedly, and your husband chuckled in response. "hi lovie," he grinned at you, moving to stand beside you and take in the media you were consuming. he stands there for a moment, enjoying your company, before he decides to trek to the kitchen for a snack.

simon peers around the area for signs of your appetite, signs that you had been feeding yourself and staying hydrated. he was met with an empty sink and dishwasher, and the items in the fridge looked untouched. the water filter was exactly as full as when he left this morning. he sighed, shaking his head before a lightbulb went off. maybe we're out of [food item]. that could do it, he thinks to himself, treking to the pantry to confirm the item was missing. he padded back into the study to greet you again, politely asking for your attention.

when you spin around to see a frowning Simon you instinctively feel puzzled, and of course Simon can tell by the way you stare at him blankly. "lovie, you didn't eat today?" he's soft when he speaks to you, ensuring that you don't feel scolded or punished. Your lover has been so understanding of your mannerisms, fully aware that your appetite was fickle and sometimes undetectable. you shook your head in response, words lost on you as you tried to recall your last meal. "there's no food item so I can't really eat right now," you responded cooly, and Simon nods his head in response. usually he'd kept up with the supply of your items, and he was honestly quite shocked that this wasn't upsetting you as much as he'd always imagined it would. he didn't want to press the issue, but he was mildly concerned that you may be pressing it down. "why didn't you say anything, are you not upset?" the question slides over your head, and you direct your attention back to the media in front of you. " 've been busy today," you respond as your eyes focus again on the screen. Simon sighs again, turning on his heels and heading to the bedroom for a change of clothes. he knew he'd be heading to the store now, or helping you through a meltdown later.

Simon had read up quite a bit on the fickle nature of meltdowns, and he was well versed in how unpredictable they may be. he'd listened to numerous autistic media creators mention their experience in reference to valves. when the 'special interest' tank was where you needed it, and your 'manual labor' valve was at a minimum, then that allowed for things like social interaction or emotional regulation. when you had no time to yourself and no time for the things that keep you happy, your mask began to slip and 'smaller' things that you normally coped with began to feel a lot heavier and less manageable. he knew that your special interest tank currently filled your cup to the brim, allowing you to ignore the constant discomfort of hunger and dehydration. he also knew that should this hunger persist it may heighten other, seemingly less significant, senses and experiences and he'd find himself well into meltdown territory. the longer he waited for you to notice your hunger, the more likely dysregulation would occur.

at the store, Simon's breath is stolen from him. the damned item was out of stock. he haggled a store employee, begging them to check their inventory again, but they'd been completely out of it. Simon found himself driving all over the city in search of this item, but he found nothing. at the fifth store he felt defeated, and he decided to search for the item online. to his dismay, it'd been discontinued. there was a pit in your husband's stomach at the information. to Simon's surprise, it seemed that his lovely spouse's support of this item hadn't been enough to singlehandedly keep the item in service. he scoffed as he thumbed through the list of items he knew you liked, all of which seeming a reach to coax you into eating.

Simon drives the 45 minutes back to the home, and you're pacing in the living room with your headphones on. Simon doesn't even have to ask, he knows you've overdone yourself with the screens and now your head hurts and your ears hurt; your ears always hurt when you're overstimulated. No matter how much you loved [special interest], you still found yourself overwhelmed if you indulged for too long.

you turn the music down at the sight of your husband in the doorway, waiting for him to speak. "Lovie, it seems that item has been discontinued." The words take a moment to be processed, but you fail to hide the disgust and frustration you feel about the information. you feel your chest getting tight, and the music doesn't feel loud enough. "i know this is difficult but-" 'How could we not notice it was discontinued? Why didn't i pay attention! It can't be! I don't want that. I don't want it." you began to cry, frustration coursing through you as your ears began to sting. You'd tried so hard to do better, to feel better for Simon, but now you felt helpless. Your brain began to eat away at you, blaming you for not keeping up with your own foods and snacks. Your pacing continues as you find yourself striking your chest repeatedly, trying to dull the pain of the situation. your mind felt like it was melting, and the tears continued.

Simon steps to you slowly, striking his own chest lightly and he nears your smaller frame. he slowly reaches his arms out beside him, allowing you to walk into his chest. his arms remain at his sides, and he allows the painful stimming to be transferred to his chest. your strikes feel nothing close to anything he'd truly suffered, and he hoped this would help you make it through this world-shattering time. he stands there for as long as you need him to, fully prepared for this to last several hours. the tears stain his shirt as you sniffle and sob, strikes getting lighter and lighter. you cry so much it leaves you dizzy, and your arms slowly reach out to simon's to wrap them around your frame. you give him two taps to let him know that you'd like to be squeezed, and he does so without complaint.

"You're safe, lovie. I'm sure this is very frustrating, so how about we order that Chinese food place you like. I know it's not safe food but it will feed you. I even have the exact order from last time, hm?" you offer him another two taps as confirmation, and he smiles.

Once you begin to come down from your meltdown, Simon is sure to help you change into your favorite pajamas and wraps you in your compression blanket. you two spend the evening in your bed watching your comfort show and eating takeout.

an: i hope this as comforting for you as it was for me while writing. simon would be such a loving and comforting partner, and I deeply believe he'd study you and learn you so well that he can help. if anyone you love is having a meltdown, try to remove any extra emotional or cognitive labor for them.

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