#she used my sound effect as a tag
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callmebliss-got-swamped · 2 years ago
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transmaverique · 7 months ago
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gonna be honest I see anyone talking about this "my gender is more complicated than yours" shit as someone who genuinely cannot comprehend that other people that don't share certain traits with them can still in fact have rich interior lives. as an agender trans woman who uses she/her I've never had anyone say it to me who wasn't (usually unknowingly) transmisogynistic
see but im not talking about "rich interior lives" and the assumption that i am is exactly what im talking about. i am talking about the actual physical way that reality treats and percieves me in comparison to the way it treats and percieves you. saying my gender is "more complex" means to me that i am physically incapable of existing in a strictly binary world and that there is no thing i can pass as bc "binary man" and "binary woman" are both incorrect for me. and the Cisiety in question does not allow androgyny to exist - it is exclusively the timeframe people have to decide whether they think you are a cisman or a ciswoman, or a failure and a freak. i dont subscribe to that "binary privilege" shit, thats not how privilege works. but there are differences in the ways both you and i can navigate this strictly binary Cisiety!!! and those differences deserve to be named, imo
like. again. i dont have to comfort you about your own internal sense of gender before youll listen to me about my experiences in the real world as genderqueer. as a different sort of transsexual than you.
(and bc i Know what binary ppl love to say: i know not everyone is 'capable of passing'. what i am talking about specifically is the difference between being unable to pass as a cis woman or a cis man vs being unable to pass bc what i am does not exist AT ALL in a binary society, and both of those things are incorrect ans unattainable.)
(anyways if that language is too imperfect for you thats like fine but. its just confusing to me, i dont get why its hard to understand what we are talking about here. our experiences w our nonbinary genders are completely different! why do i have to discuss them like theyre the same?)
#do you consider yourself transfem first or agender first on an internal level?#do you feel like you are predominantly treated as a trans woman in your day to day? does that hurt the part of you that is agender?#< not trying to grill u or anything im genuinely curious#ive had similar convos w my transmasc and transfem nonbinary friends as well as like. my gnc binary trans friends#i am just curious bc. like i said 'binary' isnt a bad thing to be and frankly since u identify urself as agender ur not really the target a#dience here anyways?#the idea that theres no such thing as a binary trans person just#fundamentally misunderstands the extremely broad swathe of nonbinary experiences and treatments#my passing transmasc enby friends dont particularly feel touched by transphobia unless theyre clocked or unless our areas laws changed#but some DO feel like they r effected by exorsexism on a day to day by being assumed to be binary men and having the other parts of their i#entities erased#while others are completely comfortable being percieved as strictly men and moving through life strictly as men#which is sounds like. i would guess youd have a similar position since u exclusively use she/her?#like.. it sounds to me like your 'rich interior life' doesnt really have an outward effect on the way people percieve and treat you and the#way you react to it which is very different from my experience#binary doesnt mean your gender is 'simple' it just means that you are comfortable within a binary system even of you dont personally identi#y with it. and maybe this is a case of 'political identity vs personal identity'??#and all of this is FINE its just. literally every time i talk about my own unique positioning my transandrogyny or whatever gives me#people crawl out of the woodwork to tell me my experiences are not actually unique#do u see what my issue is? my own trans experiences are erased bc other people 'disagree' with . what. my perspective as an 'unaligned' enb#? when its like. literally none of us are gonna have the same needs or experiences as trans people#and if 'binary' works to show that you are fine and comfortable being percieved exclusively as a woman#and 'nonbinary' works to show i am not#i dont really see what the issue w using the word 'binary' is#like i said. its not a slur. its not a bad thing to be.#and tbh i think this insistence that 'unaligned' nonbinary ppls perspectives arent actually unique to binary or 'aligned' nonbinary ppls is#directly contributing to like. lateral bigotry coming from said 'unaligned' enbies. like if u put urself in my shoes for a second and u gre#up being constantly told you were either a cis invader who didnt actually have any trans experiences and that only people who want to 'full#transition' were REAL transsexuals then. youd be kinda jaded too right? and im sure you ARE kinda jaded lol.#anyways. sorry for rambling at you i dont have any more tags left lol
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gibbearish · 7 months ago
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am finally back home and can say without a doubt that i am just fundamentally not built for long distance travel however the train was much nicer than planes
#that being said. pressurized cabins drive me insane a little bit#and also it gives you pretty intense sea legs for a While#like. the ones from the first trip hadnt gone away by the return one. so. might be stuck with that for a few days#we shall see#also ajr live fucks severely#the albums were already incredible but that was a goddamn religious experience#like. idk the way i think abt it is theyre more djs than a regular band esp w their performance showing the making of way less sad#like their music is very electronic‚ theyre making mixes of their own sound effects more than singing in one go#so like. the vocals were a teeensy bit rough at times#notably times it has taken me Literally Hundreds Of Hours Practice to be able to consistently sing along with#and times ive found its literally physically impossible to like. no matter what#idc how big your lungs are‚ there is no human on earth who can do that final run of karma in one breath#much less to An Entire Stadium After An Hour Of Jumping And Dancing And Singing Loud As Fuck#so like i dont blame them for that‚ you dont go to live shows expecting it to be 100% perfect anyways jwbdjsbfksb#the trumpet however. well she was certainly playing sometimes. and was very enthusiastic about her flares.#however. in most of their songs they use midi trumpets to my ear at least#meaning she was likely an addition specifically for live performances and in my personal band kid opinion#prooobably was not in any of the like. higher tier bands? idk just. a lot of the mistakes she was making were hitting as stuff that got#taught out of us the instant we joined any band beyond regular concert#so i would guess she was probably just like. a friend who happened to play trumpet in high school or maybe even just middle school#and they knew that the trumpet parts in their pieces were big and distinct enough that like they /had/ to get a live player#and just kinda. didnt anticipate the audition -> performance gap#like. her tone was really fried the whole time like she was playing as hard as possible#which. she was mic'd. have the sound guy turn her up.#the way they did it made it sound like she was using a mute but not. like she only got the bad parts of a mute from it yknow#her tempo and timing were. bad. theres no nice way to put that one it just Was Bad‚ like the trumpet runs in ajr songs arent. complicated#like. quite literally if you handed me the sheet music right now i would have it down perfect in a week at absolute most#and better than that player on sightread. like. we did so many sightreading drills.#like ill share my band kid creds if anyone cares but i need to emphasize this isnt me being braggy like. they genuinely just arent hard#fuck im out of tags. w/e i think only like one of yall also listens to them anyways so i can leave it there
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writers-potion · 2 months ago
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Writing Character Accents in Fiction
Hey there, thanks for the question! I speak English as a second language; most English speakers I encounter aren’t native (yes, including fictional people); thus, this is a concern I’ve explored personally when I write. 
I think the core principle regarding accent writing is this: it shouldn’t be distracting. 
For the same reasons why Stephen King prescribes the basic dialogue tag “said” rather than fancier alternatives like “whispered”, “shouted” or “screeched”, dialogue must be first and foremost easy to read. It must flow like a real conversation – the pace and tone are a lot more important than how specific words are being pronounced by the character. 
Focus on what effect the accent has:
Using adjectives to describe their voice in general. Different types of English (American, British, Australian, etc.) will give off a different vibe, also partly dependent on how your character speaks in general:
Lilting: Having a smooth rise and falling quality; sing-song like. Welsh accent is often described as singing. 
Posh: from a high social class. This is the term generally used to describe the upper-class British accent.
Nasal: this happens when the sound goes through somebody’s nose when they’re speaking. North American accents are more nasal than, say, British pronunciations. 
Brash: harsh, loud, indicative of sounding a little rude. 
Slur: speaking indistinctly; words merging into one another.
Using metaphors.
Her voice was cotton and fluffy clouds. 
When he spoke, the ‘r’s scratched the insides of his throat. 
Mentioning their accent with a brief example(s). 
“Would you like to drink some wine?” she said, though her Indian accent gave extra vibration to her ‘w’s and ‘r’s, making the words sound more like ‘vould you like to drrrink some vine’.
“I want some chocolate.” His syllables were choppy and ‘l’s rather flat, saying ‘cho-ko-lit’. 
Some Tips:
Don’t phonically spell out everything. Perhaps give a few examples in the beginning, but stick to standard English spellings. 
Pay attention to word choice, slang, and colloquialisms. 
An Australian person would say “tram”, not “trolley; “runners” instead of “sneakers”
A Canadian may refer to a “fire hall” – what Americans call a firehouse or fire station
If your character comes from a non-Enligsh background:
Use vocabulary from other languages. 
“What time was the exam, ah? Two o’clock? Jiayou!” → putting “ah” or “la” at the end of sentences + Jiayou means “break a leg” in Singlish. 
“I can’t believe that 4-year-olds have their own SNS accounts now.” → “SNS” is short for “social networking service”, a term used to refer to social media in Korea. This would a subtle difference – even though it isn’t technically Korean at all!
Transpose grammar from different languages. 
For example, in French, plural nouns take plural adjectives (whereas in English, you would speak of ‘white cars’, not ‘whites cars’).
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choslut · 2 months ago
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˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ SWEET TALK. featuring choso.
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↻ choso lives for one thing ; to make sure his precious girlfriend is never unsatisfied.
tags : cunniligus, dirty talk, body worship, male masturbation, overstimulation, squirting, fingering, mentions of face sitting, feral choso // wc. 0.7k
author's note : i lowkey wanna thank @toadtoru for sending in an ask about this before i even posted it, because i used some of those ideas to improve on this :3 in true homage to my username choso is a complete slut in this lolsies ;) one more to go and this event is finished, thanks for sticking around for THIS long i love everyone here >o<
this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.
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if there’s one thing CHOSO firmly believes in, it’s that you aren’t just his girlfriend, but some supreme deity from heaven above. it sounds completely ridiculous, but he believes it more than anything, especially in moments like this. 
you just look so beautiful above him on the couch, thighs parted slightly and fingers caressing the sensitive mound in between your legs, head tipped back and lips parted in a silent ‘o’ as your toes curl into the carpet. angelic, he thinks, and he can’t wait to receive permission to touch you.
“choso…” your voice is smooth like butter yet sweet like caramel, and choso can feel his cock begin to press up against his slacks. “c’mere.”
yes. that’s all he needs before he’s eagerly crawling in between your legs to lap at your cunt, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs as he pulls them apart in earnest. “shit… missed me, did she?” his rambles are fueled by pure lust and delusion, and as he eats you out, choso begins to talk into your cunt. “missed her too… poor baby can’t go too long without her sweet boyfriend, huh…”
fingers tangle in his dark locks as you pull him closer, effectively muffling his ramblings by grinding your lower half on his tongue. the way he eats you out is feverish, his wet muscle alternating between your inflamed clit and pulsing hole interchangeably. and choso can’t help himself from getting fired up by your lewd display too, his own hips grinding down onto  the couch as he finds solace in between your legs. 
you, on the other hand, are positively reeling, legs twitching uncontrollably as choso continues to make a mess of your poor cunt. you wish you could return to him the same pleasure tenfold, but all you can do is sit and take it, helpless to his ministrations. “cho, cho, ‘s too much, baby, s-slow down…” 
begging is futile. choso is hypnotised, his own eyes rolling into the back of his head in an immediate reflection of your own reaction. “sorry baby, can’t, you taste s’good, don’t wanna…”
neither of you are in your right mind, but choso especially. when you cry out from orgasm for the first time, he barely takes note, his tongue on your clit never letting up as he brings two fingers to the entrance of your weeping cunt. the other hand previously on your thigh is now shoved into his boxers, and he’s fisting himself just as quickly as his fingers begin to plow your pussy. 
he’s killing you, but you love it. his brown eyes peek up in between your legs, and you just catch his expression, pupils dilated with lust as he watches you twitch above him. he mumbles something onto your clit before he’s licking and kissing it again, and you begin to think you might actually die. 
“c’mon, baby,” he groans, hips thrusting forward into his palm as he continues to eat. “c’mon baby, gimme another one– fuck, please, please…”
“choso, i can’t…” you truly believe that, given the way he’s already on his way to giving you another orgasm in the short span of five minutes. but he needs it so bad, needs you to cum for him so bad that he speeds up, thumb now joining his tongue to stimulate your clit in unison. “choso!”
“that’s it, baby, that’s it, oh, she’s close, isn’t she?” you can barely believe that he’s treating your pussy like its own person, but fuck is it turning you on. you hiccup pitiful whimpers as your thighs begin to tremble again, knees closing inwards and trapping choso’s head in between your legs.
if he were to die in this position, he wouldn’t mind. your release sprays his lips in repeated spurts, juices dribbling down his chin and some even dripping onto the flared head of his cock. it’s that which tips choso over the edge, and he’s spurting ropes onto the carpet, his own eyes finding the back of his head rapidly as his nose jerks against your clit.
“baby…” he stares down at the mess he’s made on the floor and then back at you, who’s laying spread eagle on the couch, chest rapidly rising and falling. “you gotta sit on my face next time.”
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PREVIOUS : SURVIVAL ft. sniper mask NEXT : INKED ft. suguru geto
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cheralith · 5 months ago
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wish you well — 「 celebrity!gojo x manager!reader (drabble & headcanons 」
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synopsis ; after being one of the nation's most well-loved celebrity's manager for nine years, it's time to call it quits. said celebrity, however, doesn't take it too well.
content tags/warnings ; gn!reader, no pronouns for reader used, mild angst, some parts not edited/not beta read
contains ; celebrity!au, a-list actor!gojo satoru, manager!reader, no powers au
notes ; plot inspired by "what's wrong with secretary kim" after my nth rewatch haha
now playing ; i wish you love - nancy wilson
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Everyone goes to lean forward in their seats, gripping the edge of it as the music that’s singing from the movie theatre’s speakers suddenly stops, letting the sound effects of rain pebble through instead. The screen displays a running, drenched man in the rain of a lonesome road in the middle of the countryside, his crystal blue eyes hazy with a brim of tears balancing in them as he huffs and puffs, the exhaustion within him visible. The camera cuts to a woman seated safely under a bus stop as the rain pours down with the same view of a descending countryside town still blurred in the distance. She grips the handle of her suitcase as her head goes to gaze solemnly at her shoes. 
A bus goes to a screeching halt, only the tender wheel of it visible as the woman’s gaze is still stuck on the floor before she looks up to see the bus doors opening before her. The running man appears before the screen, desperation clear on his face before the camera slowly turns towards the bus stop the formerly-sitting woman is now standing under. 
���Loretta! Don’t you dare get on that bus!”  the man yells out, earning the woman’s attention.
The woman widens her pale green eyes at the sight of him breaking out into a sprint. She swallows a nervous gulp, too frozen to move from her spot until the man enters under the shelter of the bus stop. His chest engraved with the lining of visible muscles are evident through his pale blue button-down that’s slicked with water and the sight earns a couple of lip bites from women in the theatre. 
The woman stammers, “Y-you know I need to do this…”
“No you don’t,” the man mutters, the camera panning to show his eyes holding desperation and a slight flicker of anger. “Your father wants you to do this, but I know you. I know you don’t want to.”
“But it’s my duty, Vincent—”
“Don’t give me that ‘duty’ shit!” The man shakes his head, letting droplets of water fling all over. “Loretta, please… just stay here with me,” he pleads, holding her face in his hands and forcing the woman to look up at him as his thumbs wipe away her tears that grab onto mascara. “We can stay here… get a house together… build a family… die old together like you said we would. You’re not gonna break your promise, are you?”
“Vincent, that was when we were six!” the woman exclaims sadly, “Don’t tell me you’re still hanging onto that.”
“I’m not hanging onto that promise,” he whispers, pulling her face closer to his. 
The instrumental of a music track begins to play softly in the background, obvious tension rising to the surface in the theatre as the scene continues. A couple of hands shovel into large popcorn buckets and without thinking, shove the popcorn into their salivating mouths. Nails dig into the palms of hands as some chew on them out of anticipation. Eyes wide and unblinking, they give their full attention to the screen.
“Say the line…” whispers one person.
The man tenderly kisses her in a short, but passionate kiss, letting her release from him with a dreamy sigh. 
“I’m holding on to you,” he murmurs ever so softly. 
Compared to the quietness of the man on the screen, the theatre goes absolutely crazy. Shouts and cheers ring through the air as numerous rounds of applause go to harmonize with them. 
The scene in the movie finalizes with Loretta finally swallowing her pride and nodding to Vincent’s agreement, sealing the movie with a kiss that lasts until the screen slowly fades to black. 
“Annnd… that’s a wrap,” the director of the movie jokes as he stands up from his seat. He earns a few laughs from the cast and the crew of the movie. The theatre begins to light up once more and gives a clear view of everyone, including the section that holds the main cast up near the back. “I’d like to give one last thank you to Satoru Gojo and Yuki Tsukumo one last time for giving an amazing performance and dedicating their time for the past year and a half. Thank you both ever so dearly.”
Satoru Gojo, also known as Vincent, goes to stand up with his co-star, also known as Loretta, and they give a synchronized bow to the people in the theatre as the premier for his latest movie finally draws the curtains from behind the audience. “Thank you for directing another outstanding movie. I truly do look forward to working with you again in the future,” he gives another dazzling smile as he and Yuki elegantly walk down the stairs together. They say their final goodbyes as co-stars and depart to opposite sides of the theatre where they’re greeted with their teams. 
You go to hand him his coat you’ve been hanging on to for the past ninety minutes, the scent of cologne finally fading after a suffocating hour and a half. Glancing at the director who heartily laughs with some of the editors of the movie, you let out a light chuckle. 
“Hm? What’s so funny?” Satoru inquires as he shoves on his coat. 
“You’re such a liar,” you say, shrugging as you and him exit the movie’s premiere together, some of the actor’s team following shortly after, conversing with another about how spectacular the movie was. “You’d rather throw yourself off a cliff than work with that guy again.”
Without looking at you, Satoru grins ahead. “You know me so well.”
Ijichi, the chauffeur, is waiting patiently outside the venue despite the winter cold. When he sights the many delighted smiles and laughter, he asks, “I take it the premiere went well?” 
“Very,” you nod, getting into the car to enjoy its warmth.
The car ride is nothing out of the usual, just quiet jazz playing in the background and the city lights glimmer from above. 
“Oh, what’s the agenda for tomorrow by the way?” Satoru asks, his gaze turning from the window to you, who still is focused on the tablet that checks off today’s draining tasks for the celebrity. 
Photoshoot for Ray Ban… done. Look over next month’s plans for Season Two of Jujutsu Kaisen… done. Suit fitting for movie premiere… done. Movie premiere… done!
“(Y/N)~” Satoru calls again but dragging the last syllable of your name and snapping his fingers in front of you to capture your attention. He chuckles when you jolt in your seat. 
“Sorry,” you mutter before swiping to tomorrow’s agenda. “Alright, nothing too big. You just gotta sign that contract that you’ll be the spokesperson for Chaumet, then right after, you have an Elle interview regarding the movie. Then, you’ll have a final dinner with the entire cast and that’s it for the week.”
Satoru nods in approval and obviously ready to take on tomorrow’s attacks. Only three things? He can handle that with ease. If anything, it’s been less of a load to bring on from the recent events that had been happening as of lately. His feet could really use a break from walking over so many red carpets. 
The road begins to lead down a familiar path as you realize you pass the local family diner, your apartment’s entrance shortly coming to view. Ijichi slows to a stop and unlocks the door, letting you out. Before Satoru can say goodbye to his beloved manager, however, you stop the window from rolling up and lean down into the car again. 
“Oh, I forgot to say this earlier, but,” you pause, making sure his attention is all on you for this short, but possibly life-alternating moment. “You’re also meeting your new manager tomorrow, too. She’s really sweet and—”
Time freezes for a moment.
“Wait a minute,” Satoru furrows his brows and faces his body completely towards you, his countenance pulling the curtains to reveal a confused, serious expression that rarely appears on his face. “New manager…? What do you mean?”
The question comes out more as a demand. Breath hitching for a short moment, you release it and smile gently with the corners not letting your eyes curve. You had been anticipating this moment for the longest time now—around half a year of decision making and weighing the pros and cons, then three months deciding when the right time to break the news would be. But at this time, you’ve ran out of time and you’ve ultimately decided to push it towards the day before the deadline, something you almost never do. A little solemnly, you sigh out softly and finally declare the groundbreaking news to the A-list celebrity, your head still high.
“I’ll be quitting as your manager, soon.”
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Actor!Gojo, who doesn't get a good night sleep after that abrupt statement, in which you barely gave him time to try and ask why on earth you're giving up the job that many people would kill for, only leaving him with a small wave and a subtle "goodnight." Your voice replayed in his head the entire night, the sentence resembling nails on a chalkboard the more he repeated it to himself—"I'll be quitting as your manager, soon."
Actor!Gojo, who thinks you have the nerve to put on a smile and greet him good morning the following sunrise as if nothing happened, as if you weren't breaking a bond of nearly nine years with him. Your words for today’s plans go in and out of his ears as Satoru wearily examines your appearance and movements in the kitchen that he almost never uses as he rounds up his thoughts that poisoned his head ever since you said that all-too-bold statement last night that shifted his entire world in the matter of seconds.
Actor!Gojo, who cuts you off mid-sentence, asking you sharply why you're quitting as his manager out of the blue, his usually-playful baby blue hues piercing right into you. He notices your smile faltering a bit, but never completely dissipating, though it comes severely close to doing so when you tell him why.
Actor!Gojo, who listens much too intently for his liking when he hears you out, a feat he rarely does. "The past nine years have been wonderful, don't get me wrong," you murmur as you slather on a sugary marmalade on his toast. "But I don't think I'm really getting much out of life just being someone's manager."
Actor!Gojo, who pretends as if those last two words don't sting his chest. Someone's manager... as if he's not one of the most worshipped and celebrated A-list actors in the industry right now. But he supposes that's why he stuck by you, since you understood that he, too, was just a regular human being at the end of the day like the rest of humanity, even with his godlike good looks.
Actor!Gojo, whose mouth runs dry when you continue. "I don't want to be the side character to someone's story. I deserve to live fully too." you finish, pushing Gojo's plate of breakfast towards him before snacking on the leftovers. You stare at him, awaiting his response. You understand that despite you thinking over such a big decision for a few months, that it was better to rip off the bandaid and avoid any further complications by quitting unexpectedly, even though you knew Gojo better than anyone.
Actor!Gojo, who attempts to understand where you're coming from. Yes, he can get that maybe this life wasn't the most exciting, but then again, what other jobs out there are? At least with this one, you're guaranteed good—dare he say, great—pay and stability, along with experiencing second-hand what it's like to see all the glitz and glamour most of the population fiend for. It's thanks to him that you've been draped in designer clothes for premiers, that you've tried Michelin delicacies, that you've travelled the world. So... why ditch all of that for a more simple life? Aren't you content?
Actor!Gojo, whose mind flashes back to the moment where you stared a little too longingly at a lovesick couple in the window of a coffee shop, or when your eyes lingered on the engagement rings in a shop window that one day he had to get a suit tailored. He suddenly remembers the one dress rehearsal where he witnessed an extra asking for your number before you declined politely. He had asked you jokingly that you were blind to reject such a handsome guy (second to him, of course), only for you to reply you smiled gently at him and said you had no time to date.
Actor!Gojo, who suddenly blurts out without any restraint, and with a little more edge than expected, "What? D'you want to get married or something?"
Actor!Gojo, who regrets the sentence as soon as it escapes his lips. He swallows thickly and attempts to organize the right words for a proper apology. You stare blankly at him for a moment, and before Gojo can say anything, you nod. "Yeah. It's been a dream of mine to, actually..."
Actor!Gojo, who thinks his coffee tastes much bitter than usual, silently nods after a moment of awkward silence. You open your mouth first to try and cut it through, but he beats you to it. "I'm sure I could re-arrange some stuff in the schedule so you can get out there and meet someone. There's no need to quit." He ignores the weird pang in his chest the moment he says "someone."
Actor!Gojo, who frowns when you shake your head. You explain it would still be hard, as he'd remain your first priority despite it all. You mention that you've already submitted your resignation letter to his agency three weeks ago and that it's been processed, that it'll be your last two weeks as you being his manager and that you'll be saying goodbye to what had been nearly a decade of companionship with the celebrity.
Actor!Gojo, who flinches as the doorbell rings and watches miserably as you fetch the person at the door. She's a young girl, around the age when you first started as his manager, with choppy bangs and long blue hair, along with a bright and ready smile. You introduce her as his to-be manager, but Gojo can't shake off the thought of being greeted by her face in the morning and seeing her face as the last thing he sees before he goes to sleep instead of yours.
Actor!Gojo, who thinks this week is going much too fast for his liking. Despite essentially begging for the director of his latest TV show to give him some extra scenes to shoot, he was excused early with the rest of the crew after all the required scenes were shot nicely. Somehow, the brand deal commercial and meeting flew by much faster than usual, too. But despite it all, Gojo couldn't help his eyes constantly flickering to your figure whenever you were in his field of vision, even receiving multiple warnings from the director from the commercial to stop getting distracted.
Actor!Gojo, who finds his gaze lingering on a rather old picture of you and him, along with some blurry figures in the background. Nine years younger, both of you, with outdated fashion and makeup. He remembers you were just shy of being his manager for four months, when he was still trying to break out of the shell of being a nepotism baby and attempting to create a name for himself. Gojo prided himself on his independence, but he'd be fooling himself if he didn't give a hefty amount of credit of his success to you. After all, you were the one that was in charge of his many brand deals and were the one that landed him roles that granted him film awards.
Actor!Gojo, who can't find the right words to say during the drives home, hating how the air is always thick whenever you were alone with him. He doesn't think he can get used to not pulling up to your apartment when the night comes to an end before going to his, despite your affirmations that him and Miwa would get along great. He murmurs a good night to you, not facing you despite watching your reflection intently in the window, but before you wish him a good evening, you say something that forces him to face you.
"I have... a dinner reservation with someone at 6:30 p.m., so I'll be leaving early tomorrow."
Gojo blinks. "Is that implying you have a date?"
"I..." you swallow anticipatingly. "I suppose you could say that."
Actor!Gojo, who feels the familiar pang of his chest as the thought of someone else sharing a dinner with you, something you've been doing with him since the very beginning of his career. He can't even imagine a person, only some sort of foggy figure sitting across from you, sharing a shabby meal. He can tell you're waiting a response from him before you head into your apartment, and he wryly says, "That's great... Hope you have a good time or whatever..." before commanding the driver to drive off, not even waiting for another word from you.
Actor!Gojo, who drums his fingers with great boredom against the door's handle, fighting off the nuisance that was the city's insane traffic this evening. When he gazes out the window to find some other distraction other than his phone, however, he instantly finds himself drawn to a familiar figure being seated at the window a few stories up in the restaurant his car was stuck in front of. You're up there, dressed regally for another, giggling with them at something they said (something stupid, Gojo thinks to himself). Teeth grit against themselves when they feed you a small portion of their food with their fork, the indirect kiss making his eyes narrow.
Actor!Gojo, whose spontaneous anger suddenly dispels when he repeats your words from earlier that week.
"What? D'you want to get married or something?"
"Yeah. It's been a dream of mine to, actually..."
Gojo suddenly pauses and goes still for a while, thinking over something incredulous. He blinks repeatedly, before a grin etches on his face as his plan settles into his consciousness. Gojo may not give you anything you desire if you're just his mere manager...
... but if he were your husband, then that meant your dream would be fulfilled and you could stay at his side for what was essentially the rest of his life and give you anything you wanted. He'd never have to fret about you leaving his life ever again.
Satoru Gojo, you absolute Einstein... he compliments himself proudly in his mind. Letting out a confident huff as the car begins to drive on, he tells the driver to head on over to the nearest jewelry store before heading home.
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a/n: hi sorry it's been a while! i was finishing up a semester at uni, so forgive my absence with this little weird hybrid ficlet of mine featuring the one and only
i hope you enjoyed and thank you for taking time out of your day to enjoy my writing! likes/comments/reblogs are always noticed and are always appreciated (´。• ᵕ •。`) ♡ !!!
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chrisevansonly · 9 months ago
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Playing With Fire
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Max Verstappen x Female Reader
summary: you and stella are max’s world, and he’d be damned if he let his father speak ill of either of you.
warnings: angst, jos (ew), angry max, slight mentions of crying, fluff at end
a/n: this is a re-upload to see if it shows up in the tags 🥲
When Stella was born, it was one of the best days ever for Max, seeing his baby girl come into the world, and the way she practically latched onto him from the minute she was welcomed into the family. He knew right then and there he would be the absolute best father to his daughter, just as he was the best husband to you, and always had been.
If there was one thing Max nor you completely enjoyed it was family events when everyone got together, including Jos. Max’s father.Max and his father have a complicated relationship, in a way they seem close but there’s always that edge to his dad that keeps all of you on the edge of your seat. You in particular seemed to still be an issue to him, and every once in a while, you’d become the punching bag at the dinner table.
Stella was sleeping in your arms as you sat next to Max at the dinner table, Jos across from you both and his mother on the other end with the rest of his family and some friends that had joined for the monthly get together.
“So when is the next Verstappen coming?” His father asked looking at you. Stella was only 6 months old so you and Max were happy to just enjoy the time you have with her now, not even thinking about another baby.
“Oh, well i’m sure someday we’ll have another…”
“We’re in no rush” Max butted in, assuming it would stop his father’s line of questioning.
“Yes well, it’s just you had a baby girl…there has to be a boy in the equation…”
You furrowed your brows, fixing Stella’s blanket as she continued to sleep, oblivious to the rising tensions in the room.
“I don’t think so? There’s nothing wrong with having girls..”
“Who’s supposed to carry on the name?”
Max sat up straighter, his hand squeezing your knee gently
“Stella will just as our next baby will eventually, regardless of their gender.”
Jos shook his head taking a sip of his water as he sighed, before looking back at you.
“All i’m saying is you should be trying for a boy.”
“Well it doesn’t work that way.”
The table was getting quieter as the father and son squared off, Jos not backing down and Max not about to let his father attack you in anyway. Not on his watch.
“I knew the second you had a daughter it would make you weak, let alone marrying her and having that baby! She’s useless if she can’t have a boy! You’re wasting your time Max, I knew from the second I met her it would ruin our family.”
Used to his harassment you didn’t cry, but it didn’t stop tears from welling up in your eyes as you almost deflated in a way, hugging Stella closer to your chest. The minute your eyes looked to Max, long gone was his soft stare and gentle smile, replaced was a look almost predatory as he looked to his father.
“Watch your fucking mouth when you’re talking about the mother of my child.”
“Max-”
“No, get out.”
“Excuse me?” Jos’s eyes widened and he shook his head
“GET THE HELL OUT!”
Max yelled, slamming his hands down on the table, seconds later Stella stirring before whimpering in your arms. The dutchman froze and looked apologetically at you as you excused yourself to go up to the nursery, only then turning back to look at his father.
“If you ever so much as think about speaking about my wife and daughter again, it’ll be me coming after you. Now get the fuck out.”
Jos didn’t even offer to say anything else, pushing back his chair and storming out, effectively cutting the dinner to an end as everyone left, Max’s mother sticking around to help clean up and of course comfort you afterwards. She had always been close to you and Max and in a way she was like a mother to you too.
“Baby?”
Turning at the sound of your husbands voice you smiled, still holding Stella in your arms, only this time she was much calmer, her eyes lighting up as she spots her dad.
“Hi, everything okay?”
“I should be asking you that…”
Shrugging you let him take Stella from you, his demeanour much more relaxed with his baby girl in his arms as he placed a few kisses to her cheeks.
“I know what your father is like, yes it hurts but I love you and you love me and that’s all that matters…we have a beautiful baby girl, and that man will never be able to change what we have.”
Max nods, bringing you into his side and leaning down to kiss you softly
“You’re right, he can’t. I’ll never let him ever disrespect you like that ever again. No matter what I have to do.”
“I know you won’t Maxie…and I love you very much for it, Stella too, huh baby?”
Stroking her cheek gently she babbled happily, leaning on Max’s shoulder, her hand patting his chest gently
“My girls…I love you both so much, i’ll always protect you both, with my everything.”
Nothing else needed to be said in the moment, all Max needed was his girls and he felt whole. Nothing else mattered because to him he had everything he’d ever wanted in his life. Despite what he went through growing up, Jos had never made his heart turn cold, he made it big enough to hold the love he had for you two, and would always hold, no matter what happened.
Besides, everyone knew messing with the Verstappen girls, was playing with fire.
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arpicityandneed · 9 days ago
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My Turn
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18+ f!reader. best friends steve and bucky. dirty talk. bisexual steve. bisexual bucky.
~
"Tell me again where you want it baby." Your new husband had you in his lap thumbing your clit while you rode him. Your thighs were shaking but you were desperate, tears of frustration on your pretty lashes as you balanced yourself with both hands on his shoulders.
"Inside, Stevie, please?" His hands were roaming over your body possessively, gripping the fat of your ass and thrusting his soaked cock up into you with every down stroke of yours.
"Don't make the sweet thing cry Stevie." Bucky groans as he palms himself through his slacks, waiting his turn for once in honor of your wedding night. Usually he and Steve would've flipped a coin or fought for who got to bully their way inside your pussy first.
"I'm not gonna Buck, she's just so pretty when she begs. My wife." Steve's baby blues were dancing with mischief as Bucky cursed.
"You met her first by accident, Rogers. I'm older-" Bucky started growling the same damn argument they'd been having since they decided they wanted a baby and therefore a wedding. (They were too old fashioned for anything else.)
"Boys, can we argue later?" You cut in breathlessly, and Steves arm wrapped around your waist. Your only warning before he took over- fucking you up and down his shaft like a rag doll as he groaned,
"Alright baby. I gotta do right by my Mrs don't I?" With the smuggest grin you'd ever seen his balls twitched, and spurt after spurt of cum filled you fluttering walls.
"Goddamnit, Stevie." You would've comforted your other boyfriend if you could focus. But Steve's thumb was rubbing your clit as you seized up, coming hard and milking his cock for all he had to give.
You collapsed against his chest.
"You gonna be good for Bucky baby? You got one more in you?" Steve murmured gently as he rocked you on his softening shaft, his cum leaking out of you and drenching his balls in your combined juices.
"Mhm. Want him inside too." You smiled as you kissed him, soft and sweet like you had several hours earlier in front of all your friends and family.
"My turn." You hadn't heard him move but you weren't surprised when you were lifted and bent over the massive bed, Bucky was hardly a patient man once he had the green light.
"Fuck sweetheart, you're dripping." Bucky's voice was hoarse. But Steve, who was laying down close enough for you to tongue at his soft cock, just snorted.
"Don't complain like you don't love it, jerk." Steve guided his shaft into your mouth and murmured softly, "Clean me up baby."
"'M not complaining punk, it's a compliment." You moaned around Steve as Bucky took one good lick of your stuffed pussy before straightening and dragging his cock head through the mess. "Your cum tastes better inside her by the way."
"Shut up, you love my cum anyway you can get it, Barnes."
"Maybe." One smooth thrust and you were full once more, and Bucky goes from teasing his boyfriend to cursing how good you feel. "I gotta say doll. You're kind of a slut."
"B-Bucky!" Your scolding would be more effective if your pussy didn't clench around him from his words and the memories flooding you brain of watching Bucky swallow down Steves cock.
"Greedy fucking pussy-" His moans were loud, shameless. "Back me up here Stevie."
"He's not wrong sweetie. Youre an absolute slut for us. But just us, yeah?" Steve sounds proud. Proud that on his wedding night his wife is being tag teamed by him and his best friend.
Fuck.
You were going to cum, hard and Bucky- the smug bastard- wasn't going to let it happen quietly.
"Someone likes being reminded how needy her pussy is. Clenching down so hard on me doll." Bucky fucked different than Steve. Harder, filthier. His hands were dragging you back onto his fat cock until the audible slap of his hips against your ass echoed around the room. He was getting close you could tell. His heavy balls were slapping against your clit, aching to add to the cum already slicking him inside you. "Should've waited till after the honeymoon to let me fuck her Steve."
His hand snaked around to find your clit and with quick tight circles over your swollen nub you came apart with a cry.
"Yeah, Buck? And why's that.." Steves eyes were narrowed like he was annoyed at being told what to do, but you knew the truth. His cock was growing hard in your mouth again. Bucky thrusted hard inside you before he started to unload, grinding into you as if to make sure his seed took first.
"Cause now we're never gonna know who knocked her up first till the baby's born."
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pinkmirth · 1 year ago
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KEEPER!
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SYNOPSIS! ⸻ you’ve fallen for your darling bodyguard, and you’re over the moon to discover that he feels the same. but this feels borderline forbidden . . . for just how long can you keep what you have with reiner under wraps?
CONTAINS⸻ ( 5k+ words of . . . ) bodyguard!reiner x fem!reader (black coded), fluff, nsfw, modern au, scion!reader (descending from a rich family/influential bloodline), hyperfeminine ‘girly-girl’ reader, reiner’s german, mutual pining, secret relationship / sneaky link, public display of affection (pda), food play, car sex (unprotected), slight dacryphilia, creampie, use of pet names ( e.g. mama, baby, honey, princess), reader calls reiner ‘ papa, ’ explicit language, lowercase intended, minors shoo!
MY LOVE LETTER! ⸻ this post is an answer to an anonymous ask: ‘ what about secret dates (turned sneaky links) with body guard! reiner??? ’ oh. my. goodness! nonnie, you’re a sexy genius and you should know it. tagging the amazing @ramonathinks! she’s the one who even introduced this bodyguard!rei-rei concept to me, and for that i’m so grateful :) ramona my love, thank you again for all the delicious reiner thoughts you always send my way! now enjoy, xoxo ♡︎
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reiner’s your bulking shadow, never trailing too far behind.
he’s been hired by your parents to ensure your safety. nothing more, nothing less. he’ll follow your every step and drive you wherever you please; after all, it’s what he’s paid to do.
things started off the way they should— professional. from the very beginning, reiner knew to keep his distance, and that he did. but he soon realized just how hard that would become . . . you’re effortlessly gorgeous, sharp with your words and caring to a fault. his growing affection was only a matter of time.
nowhere on the criteria for the job does it say that he should be developing feelings. observing your habits, committing them to memory and predicting your behavior is the only thing he’s got any business doing. yet, he loves to feel the softness of your palm in his hand when he helps you into the backseat of your car, even if the contact is just for a split second at most. he finds himself peeking glances at you from the rearview mirror, soaking in how pretty you look when you’re unaware of his gaze. in truth, reiner wishes you didn’t have such an effect on him; that would make work-life much easier on his poor soul. well, love isn’t known for being simple, now is it?
it takes about four weeks on the job for him to grow a soft spot for you. reiner’s always been a hopeless romantic, oh-so quick to fall. he’d willingly lay down his life for the sake of your own, and not just because he’s getting a paycheck for it. thanks to the job description, his devoutness isn’t questioned.
before long, reiner can tell you’re becoming attached to him as well. on a fateful night, he even overhears the phone call between you and your friend, something about ‘ mister braun being so sexy that it hurts . . . ’ your bodyguard is nothing if not a man of dignity. he never meant to eavesdrop! it’s just that he's stationed outside your room for night patrol. he’s now especially glad about being up at five in the morning; he wouldn’t have been able to hear this otherwise. your confessions pry a subtle grin from his lips. there he stands, smiling to himself in the dimly lit hallway where nobody can see him blush like a schoolboy.
‘ nuh-uh, i can’t! that man works for my parents . . . he’s completely off-limits. it's a damn shame, isn’t it? ’ you release a sigh, one so exasperated that he can hear it through the other end of the door. call reiner crazy, but it sounds to him like you’re yearning to have him all to yourself. in a sudden moment, you're emerging from the room, donned in a tiny pink nightgown. cute, but thin as fuck. leaves nothing to the imagination, even. it’s the flimsiest thing he's ever seen you wear.
reiner’s cheeks burn so red that is downright embarrassing, thankfully you're unable to see him. he’s quick to lift his head and look towards the ceiling instead— much more suitable than ogling the tits of his very own client. you wouldn’t be able to catch him staring regardless, considering how the entire corridor’s tainted with darkness, but he wouldn’t dare try to steal a peek anyway.
what he can see, though, is your leisurely smile as you tell him you’re headed to the kitchen to grab a cool glass of water.
“would you like to escort me there too, mister braun? or can i go do something by myself for once?”
you’re playing with him, he realizes. just mere teasing meant to be absolutely harmless. your voice sounds much sweeter at this hour; soft and casual, coated lightly with fatigue from a busy day’s schedule.
“as long as we’re indoors, you can go anywhere you like, madam.” says reiner, “i’ll be here if you need me.”
you make your way to the refrigerator, prancing down the mansion’s luxe spiral staircase, and reiner’s rampant heart finally begins to calm. he wonders if you’d meant for him to hear you on that call. (by now, he knows just how cheeky you can be; it was definitely purposeful.) nevertheless, he's got a job to keep. neither your mother or father would respond kindly if they were to find out that he's become attached to you, or vice versa. he can hardly imagine playing the boyfriend when in reality, he’s supposed to be making sure nothing suspicious comes anywhere near a mile-long radius of you . . . it’s laughable! he’s sure your parents have more than enough money to make him disappear in the blink of an eye— that chilling fact alone puts him on his best behavior.
reiner decides to conceal it; the way he feels for you. keeps his back straight and arms folded to portray the unapproachable persona that got him hired in the first place. you eventually decide to question him over why he so-often wears that solid expression, ‘ like he doesn’t know how to smile, ’ is how you put it. it’s the very first time that you ever hear him laugh, and you turn out to like the sound. rumbly and full of bass. he couldn’t bring himself to admit that in every waking moment, it takes everything to suppress his smile whenever he sees you.
eight months of being in his company brings you to notice that reiner’s a decent listener. he makes for a great conversation, too. sure, he’s just your bodyguard, but he’s got a good ear and a smooth voice. your talks with him are always so lovely; he gives you the comfort to open up about things you’d never be able to tell your parents. pride washes over him when you admit that he’s the only one you genuinely trust. and in these moments, reiner allows himself to get vulnerable too. he tells you of his love for football as a youth, how he takes combat classes five times a week, and that he’s got tons of sisters, brothers and cousins back home in the countryside. the pair of you are so different that the contrast could almost be considered terrible. though, the longer you stay in each other’s presence, the less you can bring yourselves to care.
you and your bodyguard have grown . . . close, to say the least. the way you’re always latching onto his brawny form seems much more than friendly, especially to your parents. ‘ i feel secure with him! ’ is your claim. they’d beg to differ, but your wellbeing is enough to keep them satisfied. reiner excels at his job, and more importantly, the big blonde lug makes you happy. nobody they’ve hired in the past was ever able to get in your good graces; you utterly hated all your former bodyguards. they were much too controlling, lingered too close.
but mister braun was able to differentiate himself. he listens to your dreams and fears alike, treats you like a capable woman instead of some spoiled brat. it also doesn’t hurt that he’s incredibly easy on the eyes . . .
reiner can no longer take it. the woman of his dreams is right in front of him, and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it. the smoothest advance he can make is standing at your right side and slinking an arm around your waist, with claims of it being for your ‘protection.’ but the both of you know it’s only the proximity he’s chasing after. the way he looms beside you was always more self-indulgent than it was for safety. he just liked the closeness of it all.
he feels so much for you, and he’s virtually dying to tell you. but there’s countless reasons why he shouldn’t— particularly the risk of losing his job. every now and again, reiner chooses to be a little bit stupid, all consequences be damned. he works up the nerve to release his confession with slow and careful words. you quickly reciprocate, arms thrown around the back of his neck and tugging him into a cozy hug. he takes you by the waist and pulls you closer in— god, he’s been wanting to do this for so long. reiner hums when your manicured fingers ghost his nape, nails grazing the ends of his hair, with your tits pressed to his own chest. the pair of you fit better than he ever could’ve imagined.
you don’t know whether to call yours and reiner’s relationship ‘ official ’ — can it really be deemed as such when you’re the only ones who know? you dare not mention this to your parents, ‘cause he’s got a job to keep and you couldn’t possibly bear him not being around.
so, you’ve both decided that it’ll be a secret. shared only between you and him, so nobody’s able to intervene. dating your bodyguard is fun— brief kisses being shared when you’re the only ones in the room. the way he snugly hooks his arm around your body when escorting you feels tighter, a little more intimate. in a way, keeping things under wraps feels exhilarating.
your particular relation with mister braun isn’t verified to the outside world, but people are catching on. whenever you go out, reiner’s sure to follow. paparazzi-taken photos of you are occasionally uploaded to the internet, and it’s always a given that he’ll be included. after several months of being seen together time after time, it’s typical of people to assume that this so-called ‘ bodyguard ’ of yours is more of a boyfriend. they aren’t too far off, but you clearly won’t go out of your way to confirm their suspicions. you’re always captured in a picture of you clinging onto his burly arm with a glossy smile. your sweet expressions contrast nicely with his forever-furrowed brows. he’s handsome in this intimidating way, the tabloids say.
it’s a slow-moving thursday when reiner decides to take you on your first date with him. he waits a good hour and forty-five minutes for you to get ready. he’s used to this, of course. by now, he’s got nearly a year’s experience of waiting on you hand and foot. but tonight, his nerves get the best of him. you finish up when he least expects you to— for fuck’s sake, you even catch him pacing in the goddamn kitchen. the sight of you melts his concerns, just a little. you’re done up glamorously from head to toe, and reiner can’t contain his smile, nor hold back his stare. your light lashes are curled and wispy, with blush scattered along your cheekbones. your plush lips are pink with tint, and you’ve got on this figure-hugging outfit that he’d love to tear off of you.
you scan your surroundings, peering at every angle of your spacious home in search of your parents. after ensuring the coast is clear, you engulf him in your arms, wishing you could kiss him but you’re all dolled up and your lips are lined and glossed. reiner nuzzles his nose into the crook in your neck, inhaling faint traces of your most beloved vanilla parfum.
“god, you look so fuckin’ beautiful,” his whisper is soft against your warm flesh. you rub your hands along his broad shoulders, then slide them down his firm biceps. “and you look sexy in black,” you perk up at him, eyes round and gleaming. he loves you, he’s come to realize. and the last thing he wants is to screw this up . . .
he’s thinking too damn much. you can easily tell. it’s obvious in the way his thin blonde brows wire downwards like something’s wrong.
“reiner . . . stop it.” you order, voice serious. you only ever speak that way when you want his utmost attention. to that, he fixes his posture and stands tall as if he’s on patrol.
“stop what?” is his vague response, hands loosely positioned at either one of your hips. you lift your palms to cup his face, feeling the definition of his high cheekbones and firm jawline beneath your fingertips. he’s gorgeous, you think.
“for one, you’re clenching your teeth,” you mention, caressing his rigid jaw line until the tightness lessens. his stubble’s rough and scratchy, but it fits him so damn well. “and you’re frowing, baby.” next, your thumbs trail up to his brows, gently kneading at the creased arch. “relax.”
“m’sorry,” reiner lets out, tone low and pleading. his hands rub at your sides in an anxious pattern. “it’s jus’ that you’re so important to me . . . i wanna do this right, y’know?”
“i bet you will, rei. no need to worry, hm?” you shoot him a soft smile, and he returns it; one of the rare times you catch a glimpse of his nice and shiny teeth. “now show me a good time, papa.”
right before taking your leave , your parents have questions for you— almost too many. you don’t have any business meetings or mall trips on your schedule, so where on earth is he taking you to? rei-rei claims that he’s bringing you to a new restaurant that you’ve been meaning to try. he’ll drive you there and stay on patrol; or so he says. they decide not to question the unusually neat way his blonde hair is slicked back, or how his black dress-shirt and slacks look sharper than usual. hell, he smells amazing too. it can’t be denied that mister braun cleans up nicely.
see, reiner told a partial truth to your family. you’re on your way to a new german restaurant that’s about twelve minutes out, it’s just that you wanted to try it out with him in particular. on the drive there, you just can’t seem to restrain yourself from gazing at the man. reiner looks so put together like this, in a strapping black outfit that‘s snug against his arms, chest and thighs. his side profile’s flawless— he’s got a perfectly defined nose that slopes down to his lips, and you yearn to lick on his protruding adam’s apple. he’s got one hand on the wheel, merging into lanes and making u-turns, while the other that’s unoccupied intertwines with your softer, smaller one.
upon reaching a red light, he takes the opportunity to lift your hand up to his face, trailing his lips along the back of it. “lieblich . . .” he murmurs something in his native tongue that you can’t seem to understand, though you know its meaning is a sweet one. your grin makes him forget all about the risk he’s taking.
upon reaching your destination, reiner’s back in bodyguard-mode. that’s how he gets whenever you’re in public. yes, you’re on a date, but your safety will forever be his number one priority. he escorts you in with a large hand fit snugly into the small dip of your back as he confirms the reservation. his touch never leaves you, not even for a second. he does that thing; where he takes a brief one-over of the area, scrutinizing his environment before making the next move. you go one, two, three stories up, to the VIP floor where your dinner seats reside.
it’s a lot, he knows— the velvet floors, fancy cream-white seats and glass-like walls that showcase an aweing view of the city. you’re more than used to the finer things in life, so the only thing he wants to give you is what you deserve.
you’re raving on about how nice everything looks, leaning back into your seat as you sip on a flute of sheer-pink rosé. he’s relieved to know that he was able to make you smile tonight. a waiter presents themselves, and reiner effortlessly engages with them in german conversation. his words are smooth and fluid as he translates all the entrée and sides you asked for. even when placing a simple order, he’s still the sexiest man on earth. would now be a bad time to kiss the hell out of him?
the next three hours go by quick. you’re chatting and laughing and trying bits of each other’s platters ( though, it's mostly you eating a over half of the food from his plate . . . ) you got yourself salted-caramel ice cream for dessert, and reiner’s mischievous enough to lean close and lick the dripping residue off the corner of your lips. you gasp at him and deliver a playful kick to his foot from under the table.
“what? you had somethin’ there.” is the given excuse for his rascal behavior. naughtiness twinkles in his golden-brown eyes. there aren’t many people up here on the expensive floor, apart from two other occupied tables located on the other end of the room, and a handful of waiters that leave the kitchen every now and again. he’s lucky there isn’t anyone to catch you both.
“you’re crazy,” your laugh is infectious, “don’t make me return the favor.”
in a quick motion, reiner swipes a finger into the ice cream, his touch meeting a subtle cold. before the caramel gets the chance to melt all the way down the length of his digit, he smears some across his bottom lip. his tongue juts out to lick up the rest of the treat from his index finger.
“oh, please do.”
being away from probing eyes has made reiner bold as ever. you take him up on his request, tilting forward so that your tongue can eagerly swipe over his lips and wipe them clean. mostly sweet, just the tiniest bit salty. you want more of him already.
there’s isn’t a soul watching, so reiner escalates it. in an instant he’s got your lips merging, his hand squeezing your thigh from under the table, hot puffs of air escaping you both. “oh my god— you’re g’na get me in trouble, rei!”
“so be it,” reiner mumbles in reply, his words ticklish against your lips. from underneath his fingertips, reiner senses how tightly you press your thighs together, hungry for friction. he’s even beginning to feel worked up himself. but, the pair of you haven’t gone that far yet. the most you’ve done are hour-long makeout sessions on your king-sized bed in the earliest points of the day, when you have enough privacy to get away with it. but you wouldn’t mind feeling him in a new way tonight . . .
“you wanna get out of here, don’t you, mama?” reiner coos, cheeks rosier with his eyes slightly lidded. “mhm,” you’re quick to agree. so he puts the payment for the meal on his tab, takes your hand in his and leads you back down to floor one until you’re out of the building and back inside your window-tinted g-wagon.
mister braun is big. you’ve always known it from his appearance alone, but fuck, it holds a much greater meaning when he’s got you tucked into the backseat of your mercedes with his slacks pulled down to his ankles and your dress strewn sideways, making a slow attempt to press himself into you.
“fuck. let me in, princess,” reiner’s grunt is low, throaty enough to make you clench. your flesh feels hot and your pussy’s leaking all over the coffee-brown suede seats. he knows well enough to play around with your clit, reveling in the noises you make when his pressure increases. simultaneously, his lips suction at the smooth flesh of your neck. it feels like you’re burning up, and he’s the only one who can quench your fire.
experimentally, his hips tilt forward, and another two inches make its way in. he’s only got his fat tip and then some past that dripping hole of yours, but it’ll take much more to stretch you wide open for him. he’s groaning and muttering all sorts of profanities— about how tight you are, how good you feel, how fucking nasty this is of you.
“c’mon, woman,” reiner sucks a sharp breath into his lungs, goading you on, “lemme fuck this tight pussy.” he’s got you dangerously aroused, done by the effort of a few dirty words. wetness dribbles down from your slit to the place you and reiner carnally join, slicking up his girthy shaft as he continues to break himself past your tight rings of muscle. you claw at his solid arms, basking in the stretch. his size is imposing, forcing you open to accommodate all of him. it burns in the best way possible.
“m—more, papa,” you make out a pretty whine, knowing just how he loves your begging. you’ve got your lips agape, kissed raw from reiner’s earlier advances. you grow restless and begin to rock your hips, aching to take the entirety of him.
“mm, don’t worry, baby. i’ll give it to you so good,” it takes a little more of reiner bucking his pelvis, movements careful and shallow, for him to finally make it in. he’s bottomed out, and you can feel the throbbing from his underside. having you wrapped around him feels so incredibly right. you clench rapidly, enveloping him in an incomparable warmth.
by the time he’s made everything fit, you’re a darling little mess. your hair’s gotten frizzy and your eyes are all big ‘n glassy, with your lower lip tucked underneath your teeth. one moan after another escapes you, streaming into his ears like liquid gold. reiner throbs at the sound of every little mewl. he licks away your tears which you hadn’t even known began to fall, catching them before they can roll down the apples of your cheeks. you love the feeling, it’s just that there’s so much of him to handle at once— his fat cock, searing-hot tongue, large roaming hands . . . he's this close to consuming you whole, and you want him to.
reiner’s attentive with the way he fucks you. out, in, the pattern goes, hips drawing back before he slams back into your shaking frame all over again. he hits so unbelievably deep every time, like the width of him can’t help but prod against every spot you have. he manages to stimulate every inch of your walls, bumping every crook and ridge possible. not a part of you goes unattended to. reiner dips his head low to catch your beaded nipple between his lips, while his cock drives further inside and impels you to make more room, just for him.
as gentle as he may try to be, reiner’s undeniably a hefty man. taking it slow won’t make any difference; every deep plunge he makes into your cunt has the car creaking on its very own wheels.
“i fuckin’ love you,” he drops the heated words, punctuated with drilling thrusts; but the dick’s got you goin’ all dumb on him. it’s cute, he can’t deny, but reiner needs you to know exactly what you mean to him. so he grips at your chin from either side and lightly squeezes your cheeks together, tender with care but steady enough to make your eyes uncross and focus on him alone.
“you hear me? i— goddamnit, love you more than anything. love you so much,” the deeper he pushes in, the less you can manage to breathe. you feel the pulsing of his cock in your tummy, and it’s like the tip snags so deep that it nearly lingers in your throat. you feel yourself bounce against the seat, tits jiggling whenever he sinks inside, draws out, and snaps right back into you. your gut feels tightly wound up, and your pussy’s become impossibly more sensitive.
you’re close, he can feel it. your walls flutter with more ardor than before, squishing against the base of him with a tightness gratifying enough to spur moans from deep within his chest. you even bring your hands down to claw at his asscheeks, firm and round to the touch; the perfect source of leverage.
“r— reiner!” you cry out to him, and he’s sure his name hasn’t sounded so good up until now. he wonders if you can actually hear yourself and just how slutty you sound. “you’re close, aren’t you, baby?” to that you nod, head bobbing desperately. you don’t have to tell him, he knows. reiner’s knowledge is keen on the topic of you. what you like, what you don’t, and when you’ve had enough. now he’s truly taking his sweet time getting to know you from the inside out.
he presses a consoling peck to your forehead, maintaining that undoing pace of his. the repetitive ‘plat’ of his heavy balls smacking into your sticky cunt is dull compared to the huffing, panting and whining, but it’s there in all its vulgarity.
“ooh, i know exactly what y’need, princess. papa’s g’na take care of you . . . ” reiner doesn’t even say it above a whisper, just declares his devotion in the softest way he can. he slips a hand down the middle of your sweat-streaked bodies to bring some attention back to your precious clit, lewdly slick and much puffier than earlier. he gives swift strokes using the pads of his fingers, combined with the fluid roll of his hips, until you're arching into his broad chest and snapping your quivering thighs closed, trapping his wrist in between them.
reiner can unravel you with such ease, like he lives for the sole purpose of your pleasure and nothing else. you convulse against him, so he slows. but reiner hardly lets up. not completely, that way he’s able to ride you through it. he continues on, feeding you shallow thrusts to near his own high. his movements turn borderline erratic; thighs trembling, cock throbbing. he’s so close, “gonna cum,” his warning comes off as a groan, straight from the depths of his gut, erotic and primal. he’s clenching his teeth again— this time, for good reason. “where do y’want me?”
not a second is wasted before you plead, ‘ inside! ’ and with that, you’ve officially fucking broken him. never did he think his wildest dream would’ve come true by the very first date. lucky mister braun, getting to fill you up— especially when it’s what he’s been stroking himself to the thought of every other night. now, you’re practically crying for him to give it all to you. undoubtedly, he will.
he comes through one final, sloppy jerk of his hips. with a breathy grunt released into the car’s stuffy atmosphere , his warm seed spurts into you, tainting your womb. once reiner slips out, his thick cum pours down to present the most obscene view. it’s all so slippery, seeping down until there’s a wet puddle of your and his making beneath your ass. reiner’s body goes lax, thoughtfully balancing himself over you with his face propped onto your boobs. it’s only now that he realizes, legs cramped up, that he’s a bit too large for the backseat.
“ . . . i meant what i said earlier.” reiner’s voice comes off muffled, with his face stuffed between your tits and all. he looks adorable this way, gazing up at you with his lips curled into a slight pout. his arms loop your waist, snug and secure.
“mm, you said a lot of things earlier,” is your soft laugh, recalling his crude mouth and how worked up it made you. he allows you to rake your nails through his short blonde fringes.
“applying for this gig is the best thing that’s ever fuckin’ happened to me,” reiner makes an attempt to sit upright and show his conviction, but he ends up with his back hunched over in the restrictive space. he disregards his comfort and reaches for your hands, clasping them in his own. “i said that i love you . . . and i mean it.” his words are airy. he’s still winded from the sex.
“and i love you,” you mean it, too. with all your being. you love him in a way you've never loved anybody else. mister braun keeps you safe, sprinkles you with compliments, slips on your heels for you, puts you first. he makes you feel like this pairing has a chance, like you don’t have to hide it. besides, he deserves your all. you should be proud to call him yours, and that you are.
reiner always wants your kisses. in the morning when you wake, right before dinner, and as you’ve recently discovered, after sex too. you’re always eager to receive his lips pressed to yours. “i love you,” reiner adds in between pecks. he now says it like it’s second nature— he loves you. it makes your heart leap from beneath your chest. he kneads your bare thighs in his palms, slowly gliding his tongue into your mouth. without shame, you moan against his lips. slivers of spit tether you both even after you part.
“i want everyone to know that we belong to each other, reiner . . . my family, too.” you admit, peering up at his handsome face through your curled lashes. you’ve got your hands planted at his chest, feeling at the solidity of his pecs.
“tonight?” he asks, tone unsure.
“yes, tonight, rei!”
he adores your sudden zeal for honesty. he truly does, but—
“maybe another day would work better, princess,” reiner muses, “when your parents wouldn’t kill me for all those hickeys on your neck.”
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©PINKMIRTH! . . . all rights reserved! do not steal, plagiarize or repost any of my works. please and thank you! ୨୧
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alastor-simp · 2 months ago
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Cuddling By The Fireplace🧡 - Alastor X Female Reader
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❥Summary: It's fall season now, which means the air in Hell will get much colder. Thank god, the hotel has a fireplace.
❥Tags: Alastor x Female Reader, Flufftober, Cuddling, Snuggling, Fireplace, October, Flufftober 2024, Fluff, So Much Fluff.
❥Notes: Needed me some flufftober with Alastor. Enjoy!
Grabbing a piece of wood from the pile, you moved it slowly to the burning flames in the fireplace, small fire sparks crackling out. "That should be enough", you thought, as you slowly motioned to stand back up, maneuvering to your cozy section on the couch. Autumn had slowly creeped its way to hell, as the air was becoming more chiller, and some of the hellish trees were getting a change in color. It still surprised you that hell could even experience seasonal change, since you always believed it was a fiery molten pit, with blazing flames everywhere, but well you were proven wrong.
The other residents of the hotel noticed the sudden change, and began to slowly adapt to it. The others began to wear more comfortable clothing like sweaters and cardigans, especially Angel Dust since you often some him wearing really revealing clothing, but even he couldn't deal with the new chilly weather. Charlie, being the sweetheart that she is, went out of her way to get everyone new fall attire and also provide more blankets and comfy decor for there rooms since it was especially more colder at night. Alastor had pitched in as well, maybe not as much as Charlie, but he expanded his powers to create a warm fireplace in the lobby of the hotel, which everyone appreciated, including you. Everyone had retired for the night, except you, as you found yourself unable to snooze, so you decided to head to the lobby, hoping the warmth from the fireplace would help you nod off.
Upon reaching the couch, you threw yourself onto it, grabbing the fluffy blanket that Charlie had gifted you and wrapped it around yourself. Letting out a sigh, you leaned back, head placed on the couch cushion, as your eyes were trained onto the fire, watching the flames dance and twirl. The cracking of the wood burning and glowing effect provided a comforting atmosphere for you, as your eyes watched on, entranced.
Waves of static had merged itself with the sounds of the burning wood. Turning your head to the right, the empty area of the lobby was now accompanied by the radio demon himself. He was still in his regular suit, as he often said he didn't really sleep, so he found no need to change unless he felt like it. Crimson eyes were gazing at the fire, before they made their way towards you, watching you. "Good evening, my dear. I take it, you also are having trouble getting some proper shut-eye, hmm?" Alastor bent at the waist, smile widening as he continued to look at you. Wrapping the blanket tighter around you, your eyes gazed into Al's softly, giving him a kind smile, "Yeah, I was thinking maybe using the fireplace would help make me more tired. Thanks again for making this" Alastor appeared quite pleased, happy that you were appreciating what he did. It was only a simple trick, but the others were very thankful for it, even though he knows they wouldn't say it outright to him, except maybe Charlie.
"You're quite welcome, my dear.", his smile had softened, as he turned back to gaze at the fire, straightening back up with his hands behind his back. The both of you remained quiet after that, listening to the sounds of the fireplace and the small bursts of static coming off from Al. Moving more to the left of the couch, you lifted the blanket up, inviting Al into the warm cocoon. "Join me?" His ears twitched at your words, moving his head back towards you - eyebrow lifted as he was contemplating it. Eyes widening, you quickly realized your mistake, forgetting the extreme dislike for touch that Alastor made well known to everyone. The hand that lifted up the blanket slowly began to drop, until Al spoke. “Very well," he responded, as he moved closer to where you were on the couch.
Grabbing the lifted blanket, he slowly sat on the couch, moving the cover to wrap around his back. His legs crossed one on top of the other and his hands were placed against his lap, his whole body stiff as a statue. He hadn’t turn to look at you when he did that, his eyes continuing to stare at the fire. Heaving a sigh, you uttered an apology, earning a confused look from Al, as his head swiveled towards you, “Why are you apologizing?” Looking up at him, you opened your mouth to speak, but words failed you, so you casted your head down - ashamed. “I understand I have made you uncomfortable and it wasn’t my intention to do that. J-just…. I’ve never seen you physically relax and wind down after a long day and I thought maybe you joining me might help with that…I don’t know…I’m sor-”
A warm hand had placed itself on your chin, turning it around to face the red deer man. “You did no such thing, darling.” His hand ventured from your chin to your cheek, giving it a soft rub. Al began to turn back to look at the fire, his hand dropping from your cheek, making you a bit sad at the loss of contact. “I will admit though, it has been difficult for me to, what’s the word? Adapt…to these sorts of things. Centuries of mutilating and torturing my prey on my broadcasts can do that." His sharp row of teeth had disappeared, as his lips drew into a more somber smile, allowing you to see more of the true side of Alastor. His eyes turned back towards you, illuminating your face. "It may take some time for me to get a grasp of all this. However, I don't mind this current situation." His body was still stiff, but he had unhooked his legs, signifying that he was trying to somewhat relax.
Hands twiddling under the blanket, you looked at Alastor, words fumbling from your mouth. "C-can I come closer?" Silence was the answer that you received from Alastor. He didn't speak, but he was able to respond with a soft nod. Moving slowly, you began to inch closer and closer towards Al, eyeing him to notice any signs of discomfort from your actions. Two sets of hands had grabbed at your waist, lifting you up a bit, placing you on his lap. The blanket was then wrapped around the both of you, warming the both of you up. "Al! What are you doing?" You gazed up at Al in shock, not expecting him to do that. Alastor tilted his head, "Why, you wanted to get closer. Isn't this what you meant?" Well, he wasn't wrong, but you expected laying your head on his shoulder, not being seated on his lap. "W-ell yes, just wasn't expecting this"
Al noticed your flustered state, making him chuckle. His hands remained wrapped around your back, allowing him to pull you closer, your head being placed on his chest. His cheek was place against the top part of your head, allowing him to nuzzle against it softly. Despite being shy at the situation, you melted at the soft actions he was doing to you. Copying him, you nuzzled against his chest, listening closer to the static coming off from him, and breathing in his scent. "You smell nice" His chest vibrated with laughter, amused at your comment. "What a peculiar thing to compliment someone about." Heat rushed to your cheeks, burying your face in his chest to hide yourself from him, yet he could probably spot the red coloring of your ears. Laughing at your adorableness, he moved his hand to place it against your cheek, wanting your eyes to look up at him "You can't hide from me, my dear. You said something along the lines of "I smell nice." Care to tell me more about that?" He was loving this, giving how wide his smile was, eyes as well, glowing with amusement. Seeing no way out of this, you decided to give him an honest answer. "Well...um...you have kind of a earthy scent. Like the smell of pine trees in a forest. It's very pleasing."
As you were explaining it to Alastor, his smile had soften, his hand continuing to caress your cheek. "There! That wasn't so hard, was it?" Still embarrassed, you shook your head to remove his hand, returning back into his chest. Chuckling again, his cheek continued to rub against your hair. "Wildflowers" you heard him say. Removing your head slowly, your eyes gazed up at him, "Huh?" His nose began to trace slowly along your hair, you swear you heard him inhale. "Your scent reminds me of wildflowers. Reminds me of the ones that use to grow in my mother's garden. Sweet and oh so delicate." His voice had dropped an octave when he said this, sending shivers down your back. It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest. If you weren't sitting on his lap right now, you would have collapsed on your knees at him saying that. "Thanks," was your response to him, face nuzzling further into his chest. He let out a hum, as he continued to do the same to you.
The both of you remained cuddled next to each other, wrapped in each others and the blankets warmth, as the glowing flames from the fireplace continued to dance. Alastor's hand was tracing circles on your back; the sensation drawing a yawn from you as your ears picked up on the sounds of his static heart beating. Your breaths had slowed, eyelids becoming heavy, and little by little, you fell into a deep sleep, cuddling with Alastor. Feeling your body relax, his arms tightened around you, hugging you closer to himself. "Sweet dreams, Y/N."
-END-
Sinners:
@alastorsgoldie @91062854-ka , @delectableworm , @iiotic
@cookiekyo , @demoarah , @danveration , @beebsbea ,
@veethewriter , @forbidden-sunlight , @pinkcrystal44 , @luujjvi ,
@unholycheesesnack , @saturnhas82moons , @jyoongim ,
@aceofcards0-0 , @ghostdoodlen , @yourdoorisunlocked ,
@starshipcookie , @ainsliemac , @aria-tempest , @nobuharashinyao
, @sweet06tart , @blakedbeanss , @ihyperfixatedagain , @ktssstuff ,
@yakultt-art , @mooniee123 , @nightmarenaya , @darischerry ,
@sadnessiscoldtea , @alastorssimp , @imacollasaltitan ,
@dilucragnvindr-my-beloved , @batmanmonstarr , @felice-jaganshi ,
@justchillaine , @crazed-flower , @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog ,
@akiooshizuka , @lokis-imaginary-friend ,
@themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @futureittomainn ,
@christinaatyourservice92 , , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it ,
@angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 ,
@mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow ,
@madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel ,
@artemisandhunters , @thereeallink , @ask-theradio-demon ,
@lousypotatoes @l4zyb0n35 , @midorichoco
@lillyisfreakyy , @alastorthirsty , @yukiinee ,
, @aconstructofamind @angiiiiiiiiie
@pumppkinlynn @erikaafernns , @silverpaw2 ,
@cosmiccandydreamer , @killer-nightmare0 , @visara-valentina
@thereallsaturnstar , @coffee-or-hot-cocoa ,
@fckedupandbeautiful , @alaskathestereodemoness , @fries11 ,
@toneystank-3000. , @doll-babe-a-tron-queenthousand
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marigoldenblooms · 8 months ago
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Drunken Confessions - Drabble
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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff  x Agent!Reader
Prompt: You never called on her for anything, always staying at a distance from  Natasha. She was starting to think you hated her, that your lingering glances and continual avoidance was because you didn’t want to know her. That changes when you call her drunk off your ass at 1 am. 
MINORS DNI - 18+
Tags: Drunkenness, slight drunken confessions, mentions of harassment, Reader calls Natasha “Natty,” Natasha calls reader “Agent,” Natasha has a motorcycle, fluff, hurt/comfort.
A/N: Had this one in my word counter for a while, and thought I’d finish it up! Quick little doozy, wanted a break from all the smut totally wholesome drafts I have going (although none of my work is not 18+ even without smut content! Once again, Minors DNI!) Biker women own my heart (I’d love to do a proper Biker!AU if anyone’s got any ideas!) Asks/requests are open! Director!N x Actor!R x Actor!W is coming soon... >:))
Word Count: 777 - Read Length: 2 minutes, 50 seconds. Pictures aren't mine, credit to their owners!
~~~ 
It had been a while since you’d been out drinking, and even longer since you asked for Natasha’s help. You were acquaintances, perhaps even coworkers, but she thought it stopped there. You always avoided her- you were a beautiful stranger, lost in the night. And even still, when she heard her phone buzz with your ringtone this late, she picked up without a second thought.
“Agent?” She’d question, brow furrowing as she’d sit up, slinging her arm across her knee. She could hear the sound of cars around you, though from your heavy, stumbling footfalls you weren’t in one. You were drunk. 
“Natty..-“ you’d keen and she’d blush, wiping the sleep from her face as Natasha tried to ignore the sweetness in your tone, and the nickname on your lips- never used for her. She wished it came out of your sober mouth. You’d stop walking and she’d hear you huff, stuck in an alleyway you didn’t recognize. “I think I’m..-lost, I’m lost, fuck-“ 
“And I’m awake,” she’d respond, voice gravelly and thick, but focused as she’d pull on clothes, and you heard the rustle. Your voice would drop into a secretive whisper, still too loud to be actually effective, “Natty, Natty- are you…naked-??” 
“No,” Natasha would be grabbing her motorcycle keys and jacket now, slung loose over one shoulder before you heard the sound of her door, and seconds later the ignition of some vehicle. “I’m coming to get you, Agent. Gimme a landmark-“ 
“There’s a Mc…a Burger King, next to me, mm-“ Your mumble about being hungry was lost on her as Natasha’s tires would squeal across the road, its emptiness allowing her to climb speed quickly. Her voice was closer now, spoken through her helmet’s microphone, “Stay put, I’m on my way.” 
------------------------------------------
“He was… was callin’ me ugly-“ you slur, a blush alighting your cheeks. You’d hiccup, earning a chuckle from Natasha’s focused expression on the road. She’d picked you up minutes ago, careful to drive slower with your arms slung sloppily around her waist. You’d been telling her something about a rude man at the bar, disgruntled by your refusal to ‘go home to his smelly apartment,’ as your mocking voice had put it, “On the inside, and- and the…..outside, mhm!”
Natasha would chuckle again, expecting the insult to roll off your drunken facade, but instead your shoulders shook against her back. Slowing to a crawl on the side of the road, she’d look back to see your face looking crumbled- gleaming with tears. You hiccup again and Natasha turned off the bike, trying to soothe you with an awkward hand around you. She’d pull your side against hers, helmet in the crook of her other elbow as she’d whisper to you, “Hey, hey Agent, it’s alright, shhh..” Natasha’s hand would’ve risen to your cheek, prickling goosebumps down your spine as her thumb would wipe your tears away. Your fingers would’ve risen to hers, taking her palm gently before placing a kiss on it. She’d shift her hand away and you’d meet her gaze- her mouth was open, and your eyes darted down to it. “Natty..” your eyebrows would furrow, pouting as she’d escape your touch, “Why won’t you kiss me, Natty?”
“Because you’re drunk,” She’d roll her shoulders and you’d watch with wonder as her muscles moved beneath thin fabric, Natasha’s coat now on you. You’d have to pick your jaw off the road once you were done. Her words would almost startle you, “And you don’t know what you’re doing, Agent. Why did you call me?” 
“I..” You’d begin, yet your words left you as soon as you started them. You could never think when she was around- distance was necessary for professionalism. You hoped liquid confidence would be enough to bridge the gap, and ask the attractive redhead for coffee tomorrow. You overdid it. You forgot what she even asked, “But I want- want you. Don’t you want me?” 
Your declaration made her smile, and you decided then that you wanted her to do that again. Needed her to. Natasha shook her head, and she thanked your drunken stupor for you not noticing the blush on her face. She’d turn around, donning her helmet again- her voice muffled now, “You’re drunk, Agent. Let’s talk about this tomorrow, alright?”
“Mhmm..” You’d settle, pulling yourself against her back. “So warm..” you’d murmur, crooning into her shoulder. You’d hear the woman snicker, before the bike underneath you thrummed to life. Maybe if that conversation went well, your thoughts sluggishly considered- she’d teach you how to ride it. If Natasha’s playful snicker at your words was any indication, your chance was pretty high.
~~~
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megwritesriddles · 2 months ago
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Side Effects ༊*·˚
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18+ MDNI !!!
Pairing: Mike Schmidt x F! Reader / You
Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 6 - Wet Dream. Mike tries a new sleep medication and finds it has some odd but pleasant side effects. Soon, Reader will find out too, for better or for worse.
Tags: Wet dreams, Fantasising, P in V, Couch sex, Masturbation (mentioned), Praise kink (implied), Neediness, Sub!Mike, Medical inaccuracies, Use of medication, Embarrassment, Reader is Abby's babysitter (cliché, i know), Way too much backstory for no reason (it's my curse), Set before the movie.
Word count: 3.7k
Read it on ao3! | Masterlist
Authors note: I'm not kidding this was supposed to be a blurb because I had a busy day but it turned into this monster because I'm cursed with the inability to jump straight into smut without needless backstory!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
Mike was trying out a new brand of sleeping pills. His doctor had some health concerns regarding the dosage he was taking of his previous pills. Mike had tried to dissuade her from worrying, insisting everything was fine and he was keeping healthy, but she had insisted he try out a new medication, with much fewer significant negative side effects. Mike had tried to protest but had shut his mouth fast when she brought up his role as the sole guardian of a minor. For Abby’s sake, she said, he shouldn’t be putting himself at risk of heart issues, even if the risk was relatively slight. Mike found himself having to agree that the idea of leaving Abby alone in this world was a terrible one. 
He’d picked up the pills from the pharmacy the next day. The packaging was much the same as the last ones, only with a different name. The pills themselves were smaller, and circular rather than cylindrical. He was sceptical, given the dose was smaller per pill, but he had to give it a try anyway. He decided not to do his usual nightly routine, opting to leave the nature sounds for later, just wanting to see how well he slept with these pills. He lay on his side, pointedly ignoring his ‘Nebraska’ poster, waiting for the pills to kick in. He woke up with a start in the morning, incredibly grateful for this decision. He’d had a wet dream, a vivid one. He hadn’t had one in years, hadn’t let himself, and he couldn’t help but laugh at himself, feeling like a teenager again. He’s flushed and breathing heavily, feeling a sticky mess in his boxers. Rubbing a hand over his face, he headed for the bathroom. He discarded his sticky boxers in the hamper and climbed into the shower to wash himself off. Under the hot spray of water, he allowed his mind to wander back to what he remembered of his dream. You, bent over the edge of his bed, telling him how well he filled you up. He felt his skin flush again, his limp cock stirring slightly to attention at the memory. He shook his head, droplets of water spraying against the shower wall, he could not think of this right now. He forced his mind to stay on clean topics, feeling, with relief, that he softened up again. He’d known he was attracted to you, ever since you’d started babysitting Abby, you were just so gorgeous, with your sweet smiles and caring demeanour. Only, he’d never allowed himself to really think about you like that, other than the occasional fleeting thought. Once out of the shower, he’d checked over the pill bottle closely, finding what he was looking for. “Nocturnal emissions", “increased libido” and “vivid dreams,” were listed as a side effects. Go figure.
That entire day at work his mind kept returning to the fantasy, ashamed at how much he’d liked it. It seemed that thoughts like this about you had been a long time coming, as once the floodgates opened, they didn’t close. Almost every surface he saw at work today, he imagined taking you on. The thoughts were so inescapable that he was forced to quietly and shamefully relieve himself in the employee bathroom. He felt guilty for thinking of you like this, you were so sweet and generous, always giving your time to watch Abby, even for the very low pay he offered, you didn’t deserve to be eroticised like this by his traitorous brain. But, there was no helping it. He’d tried his best to act natural when he’d returned from work, finding you and Abby playing together on the living room floor. If you’d noticed him acting odd, you’d been too kind to mention. The next few days were a tortuous cycle, dreaming of you all night, thinking of whatever his brain had conjured all day. Then having to act normal when he gets home from work to find you in his living room, in various comfortable outfits, smiling in that beautiful way that you do. Things got a little easier, at least concerning you, when Abby returned to school, meaning you didn’t have to watch her all day. He still saw you every Saturday, since he had to work, but at least it was only once a week now. He continued seeing you every night in his dreams. He debated trying to return to his old sleeping pills, which didn’t have these pesky side effects but found himself oddly enjoying the newfound freedom of spending his nights thinking of such pleasant and frivolous things. As agonising as it was to see you and act normal, he felt overall lighter without reliving what happened with his brother every night. He had also started masturbating more, which seemed to relieve a decent deal of tension for him. Among all the other frustrations in his life, he hadn’t realised he’d also been frustrated sexually, although, this much should have been obvious from his complete lack of action for years now. He remained on his new pills, enjoying the benefits they brought, taking the good with the bad.
You’d asked Mike on Saturday if you could come over the following Tuesday while your apartment was fumigated. He’d grunted a tired, noncommittal agreement. You’d asked again at the door, and he’d done the same. You got the pesky feeling he wasn’t listening to you but you’d done what you could. You figured it shouldn’t be an issue, as Mike got Tuesdays off in exchange for working Saturdays, so you wouldn’t be sat in his house alone all day. You knew Mike tended to go back to sleep after taking Abby to school on his days off, so you prepared yourself to have to let yourself in with the key under the plant pot. You’d mentioned this to Mike too and he’d just mumbled an ‘okay’. 
So here you were, crouching to retrieve the key from under the plant pot and letting yourself in. The bungalow was still and dark, you flick the light on in the hall, kicking off your shoes and making your way to the couch. You figure that Mike is simply asleep, so you settle in, going to dig in your bag for the book you brought with you. A noise from Mike’s bedroom startles you a little, you look up toward his door curiously. It had almost sounded like your name. Why? Was he calling you in there? It seemed like an unlikely thing for him to do, but your anxious mind conjures images of him injured in there, calling weakly out for help. He had sounded a little choked. You place your book on the coffee table and make your way over. You hear another small noise as you approach, like a moan, which concerns you more. You open the door, only to find him asleep on the bed in the dark. You stand confused in the doorway, gently gripping the doorknob. You were sure you heard your name, but he looks fast asleep, even as his body shifts in an odd way like it’s arching upward. Just as you’re about to leave, you hear it again, your name choked out from between his lips. You turn to look at him, noticing his body moving, almost like his hips are thrusting upward and–. Oh my God, you think in shock, he’s hard. Thoughts buzz around in your mind, connecting the dots way too slowly. When you grasp what’s going on, you quickly leave the room, shutting the door gently behind you so as not to wake him and leaning your back against it. Your mind whirs, another broken whimper of your name being heard from behind the door. You rush back to the couch, sitting down and taking a deep breath. You try to come up with an explanation for what could be happening that isn’t the obvious because the obvious answer is too… complicated. You run a hand over your hair. Could it have been a nightmare? Why would he have been hard… and thrusting like that? He had mentioned his new sleeping pills having some odd side effects which he’d point blank refused to elaborate on, other than that they were fine. Could this have been it? You try your best to return to your reading, but your mind won’t stop wandering. You vow to never mention this to anyone, especially not to Mike, not wishing to humiliate either of you. Your cheeks burn as you reread the same paragraph over and over, unable to retain anything but the memory of his whimpers of your name.
About an hour later, you’re feeling much less overheated but still struggling to focus. You hear a door open down the hall and soft footsteps. Mike. You notice, as he rubs his eyes, that he’s coming toward you shirtless… with a large wet patch on his grey boxers. You quickly look up at his face, just in time for him to lower his hand and spot you there, his eyes widening. You’re shocked by how fast he moves, darting into the bathroom and slamming the door shut in an instant. Quiet descends over the house again for a moment.
“Why are you here?” he screeches through the door, the mortification more than evident in the shake of his voice. You try to play it cool as if nothing is wrong, hoping you can convince him you didn’t see anything to spare you both the embarrassment.
“I told you I was coming, my apartment is being fumigated, remember?” you call back. You hear a thud, Mike thumping against the door in annoyance. “Am I not allowed to be here?” trying to channel your usual easygoing playfulness. He sighs loudly, rubbing at his forehead.
“Of course, you’re allowed here, you always are, okay?” he expresses quietly, uncomfortably sincere for the situation. There’s another loud silence. “Did you… see?” his voice breaks slightly. You continue to pretend all is well.
“What? Mike, I’ve seen you shirtless before,” you laugh, a little too loudly, hoping he believes you. Another silence. “Nothing to be ashamed of… you look… uh… good,” you falter, not knowing why you just said that. It’s true though, he keeps himself in shape, channelling his energy to building his strength, and it shows, pleasantly so. Mike can’t quite believe what he’s hearing you say, coughing slightly, his cock already stirring from just a simple comment on his fitness.
“Yeah?” he swallows, unable to keep the slightly needy edge out of his voice, praying you don’t notice. He doesn’t wait for your answer, snapping to his senses. “I’m going for a shower,” he squeaks through the door. He scrambles for the shower, turning on the water as a signal to you that he’s no longer talking. He discards his sticky boxers like normal, stepping into the warming shower before burying his head in his hands and letting out a frustrated howl. He doesn’t know if you can hear him, but he doesn’t care, nothing could be more embarrassing than what had just happened. You sit in the living room, staring at the bathroom door and listening to the drumming of the water from the shower. You’re not sure how to proceed, especially after hearing his tone of voice after you’d complimented him. You keep going back to the way he’d whimpered your name in his sleep, hard and thrusting and then emerged with a stain on his boxers, that suggested only one end to the dream. Was he into you? Was this just some weird fluke due to his sleeping pills? You become so engrossed in your thoughts that you have no time to mentally prepare for him to appear from the bathroom. He looks more sheepish than you’ve ever seen him in your life, a towel wrapped around his lower half, his torso dripping water attractively. You stare at each other for a while, like he’s waiting for you to start chastising him. Instead, you decide to try to test whether his dream was a fluke. 
“Hey,” you smile in a subtle flirtatious way. You play with your hair, twirling an end of it slightly. He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing.
“Hey,” he repeats shyly. You give an obvious glance down at his bare chest and arms, before returning your eyes to his, smiling and biting your lip. He blinks furiously. “I’m going to go change,” he stutters, rushing off for his bedroom. You purse your lips as you watch after him, not sure if you’ve flustered him in a good or bad way. He returns a little while later, coming to sit on the couch with you, but as far from you as he can possibly get. You notice with a smile that he’s blushing. 
“You were sleeping when I got here,” you start, as casual as can be, and he looks impossibly tense. You lean your arm on the back of the couch and then rest your chin on it, smiling over at him. He avoids your eye. “Dream anything nice?” His head whips around to look at you, trying to figure you out. He doesn’t know you’d walked in while he was sleeping.
“Did you–?” he starts but quickly stops himself. He can’t ask if you saw the stain, if you really were just asking an innocuous question, he would completely humiliate himself. You just blink back innocently. He scrutinises you for a little longer. The possibility crosses his mind that you’re a mind reader, and you’re trying to punish him for his thoughts. You reach over, trailing your fingertips over his arm, watching as goosebumps bloom.
“Have we ever been alone together before? Without Abby in the house?” you whisper with a teasing smile. He goes bright red, breathing shakily. You’re flirting with him, you have to be. Why? He looks at you nervously.
“Not sure,” he mumbles. You move closer and his heart pounds faster.
“I only asked about your dream because, well… I heard my name,” you trace a circle on his bicep, just below the sleeve of his t-shirt. He feels momentarily lightheaded when you say this. The unspoken understanding passes between you that you must know more than this, but you’re sparing him the details. He sighs shakily. His shy reactions make you feel oddly confident, you come closer, resting your hand on the arm of the couch, effectively boxing him in, your faces close together. He looks terrified, but he’s incredibly aroused. “Was I on top of you?” you purr, unsure where all this confidence has come from. His eyes shut and he breathes shakily, for a moment he thinks he’s about to faint. 
“God…” he wonders again if you’re a mind reader. He opens his eyes and your face is right there, beautiful and seductive and he decides in that moment that you could know anything about him, even the most humiliating things, if it kept you this close. It’s not clear who leans in first, but suddenly the two of you are kissing, desperately. Your lips move with fervour and he moans into the kiss. He hasn’t been kissed in so long and it’s you, the object of all his fantasies. You clamber into his lap to straddle him and he accepts you eagerly, his arms wrapping around your middle tight, gripping at your skin through the fabric of your sweatshirt. Your tongue licks into his mouth and he moans again, each sound he makes going through to your core like lightning. He’s rock-hard under you and the thought makes you smug.
“You didn’t answer the question, was I on top of you?” you demand into the kiss, your hands coming to cup his neck.
“Yes, God yes, you were– ah– riding me,” he pants against your lips, all shame gone now that he has you here. He doesn’t care what he has to say, he just needs you. You hum an acknowledgement, pressing yourself down in his lap, slowly dragging yourself back and forth. He whines desperately, his hips bucking to meet you. You giggle at his desperation and he just whines again, embarrassed but knowing he deserves it. You continue to kiss him feverishly, the kiss becoming sloppier with need. You grind down on him, providing teasing friction, enjoying the way he grips at you tighter, trying to silently beg for more. You disconnect from the kiss and he laments, trying to follow you. You gently push him back by the chest and he looks up at you wide-eyed, lips pink and glossy from kissing. You grin, winking, reaching down and pulling your sweatshirt up and over your head. He groans at the sight of you, hands sliding up your back to pull you back in. He looks up at you, his eyes full of wonder and need, placing gentle kisses along your cleavage. You hum softly, enjoying the soft presses. His fingers splay against your back, tracing just under the clasp on your bra, it’s a question and you nod an answer. He fumbles with the clasp for a moment and he smiles up at you shyly. You chuckle. He manages to free you of the garment, slowly slipping the straps down your shoulders and pulling it away from you. He swallows, lowering his lips to mouth at the swell of your breasts. You feel his hardness twitching under you and you give a soft roll of your hips in return. He groans against your skin. You lean your head back, eyes fluttering blissfully as he showers you with insistent affections. His hands on your back hold you close, making sure you can’t slip away from him like every other version of you has by the morning. You toy with the hairs at the nape of his neck. His tongue traces a path between your breasts.
“Want your cock already,” you purr. You say it just to watch him go crazy, his whole body shivering, eyes falling closer, a small moan escaping his mouth.
“Y-yeah,” he murmurs. You push him back again, enjoying the sweet vulnerable way he looks up at you. You tug his t-shirt over his head, spending a moment caressing at his chest. He’s flushed, muscles tensing as your touch passes over him. Then, you shuffle back a little, just enough to tug at the strings of his sweatpants. His cock twitches eagerly as he watches you do this. You can’t help but giggle slightly and he looks up at you, smiling sheepishly. “I’m a bit excited,”
“I can tell honey,” you tease. He takes a deep breath and, holding you tight so you don’t fall, lifts his hips so you can wriggle his sweatpants down, along with his boxers. He’s leaking pre-cum, standing at full attention, flushed and needy. You peck his lips as assurance, sensing he’s feeling insecure about something, though you spot nothing to feel that way about. You rise onto your feet, his hands sliding to your waist, holding you like letting you any further would be unbearable. You kick off your leggings and underwear. He gasps at the sight of you, hands sliding down to your thighs as you settle back into his lap. You sit right on his cock, feeling it twitch eagerly under you, another bead of pre-cum rolling free. Mike pants needily, watching as your bare core slides against his length for a moment, making a sticky mess in his lap. He whines, gripping at your waist. You show mercy on him (and yourself), lifting up just enough to align his tip with your entrance. He whimpers in desperation. 
“Please, please,” he begs. You lean down to kiss his cheeks soothingly, sinking down onto him. He gasps loudly, his grip tightening on you. His eyes glaze over as you sit motionless in his lap, accommodating yourself to him. He whines softly, hands sliding up and down your body with need. “Please,” he sobs. “I need you to move, please,” you smile, tutting playfully but lifting yourself up slowly. His eyes squeeze shut. “Nngh– so amazing,” you bring your hips down, feeling him dragging against your walls, making you moan. You brace yourself on his shoulders, sliding up and down a few more times. Mike already looks completely gone, staring dreamily at your breasts as they softly bounce, hands exploring your hips and waist, letting out unashamed moans. You remember his dream and lift yourself.
“Fuck me,” you command. He’s confused for a moment, sobbing softly at the cessation of movement, before realising what you want him to do. He’s happy to oblige. He takes hold of your hips and starts to thrust shakily up into you. You let out a surprised gasp as he hits a perfect spot, moaning and dropping your head onto his shoulder. He kisses at your neck as best he can, thrusting up into you with pure desperation. He pounds against you sloppily, whimpering desperately, your moans in his ear only egging him on. He gets off knowing you feel good, thrusting more intentionally against the spot you seem to love so much. He’s rewarded with a symphony of beautiful sounds that has him approaching his release at a rapid pace. “Fucking me so good, Mike,” you moan and he’s done for, the praise going right to his core. With two more harsh thrusts, he’s cumming, his whole body trembling with a whimper of your name. You start to move yourself again, even as he twitches and whines under you, desperate not to get left behind. He sobs shakily with pleasure as you chase your release. Luckily, it washes over you soon after, fireworks exploding behind your eyes. You grip his shoulders hard, your body shaking like his, your head tipped back as you wail his name in return. He watches you, enraptured by the sight of you like this, determined in this moment that he won’t let this be the last time he sees it, no matter what happens. You calm down, mercifully pulling off of him to give him some reprieve from all the sensations. He holds you there on his lap, rubbing your back softly as the two of you come back to earth. He’s blissful, not just from the sex, but from the fact he’s allowed to hold you, that your arms are wrapping around him in return. He kisses your cheek, and you let him and he’s in heaven. 
“I guess dreams do come true,” he sighs with a lopsided grin. You look up at him incredulously.
“That’s the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard,”
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
xoxoxo
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the-kr8tor · 1 year ago
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Hobie meets your cats for the first time.
Pairing: Hobie Brown x f!Reader / Spider-Punk x f!Reader
Word count: 1.8k
Tags: Smut Implied, Kissing, established relationship, no use of Y/N, No specific physical description of the reader.
Synopsis: your cats interrupt your alone time with Hobie.
My Masterlist
*I don't consent to having my work translated/published on other platforms*
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Your keys jingle in your hands as you try and find the right key to your flat, you would've found it earlier, if it weren't for Hobie hugging you from behind while kissing your neck distractingly. 
"Hobie, can you wait till we get inside?" You crane your neck to look at him. You sigh in pleasure.
"Mmph?" He answers while his lips are still on your skin. 
"I can't find my keys, you're distracting me" you try not to move your neck to the left to give him more access to your skin, you bite your tongue instead to focus on choosing the right key. 
Hobie stops kissing you for a moment to grab your key ring from your fumbling hands. "Let me try" 
You miss the press of his lips on your skin when he pulls away, still reeling from the feeling, you forgot to roll your eyes at Hobie. This is his first time at your place. How would he know which key?
Click
Of course the door opens after only two tries. Hobie smirks at you teasingly. 
You finally roll your eyes, snatching your keys from Hobie swiftly. 
The second you're inside, Hobie attacks your neck once again, pushing you towards a wall, he cages you in his arms as he pushes the door closed with his foot. 
He kisses the underside of your chin, forcing you to look at your beige ceiling. He nips and licks at your skin passionately. Grabbing the back of his neck to guide him towards your lips, you kiss him, while your free hand grabs one of his belt loops to pull him towards you, closing in the small gap between you. Heat emanates from the both of you. 
Meow
A small mewl stops you both in your tracks, you both look to the side breathlessly, stuck in the same position, Hobie raises his brow.
"Oi, bruv, d'you mind? We're having a moment here" He gestures to you. 
"Meoww" the orange tabby cat pushes her empty bowl in front of her. The sound of the bowl moving across your wooden floors acts like a dinner bell, two more cats appear from somewhere.
"Ah, shit, it's way past their feeding time" you look at Hobie apologetically. 
"I don't mind" he pecks your lips, as if to say: we'll continue this later.
"I'm really sorry," You rub his kiss bitten lips with your thumb to swipe some sheen off them "I'll make it up to you later, I promise" 
You turn your back from Hobie still holding his hand, you slowly let go when you went further in your home. 
Once you're in your kitchen preparing their food, Hobie crouches down in front of the orange tubby.
"Cockblocker" he scoffs while Hobie holds out his hand for the cat to smell. The cat tentatively sniffs at his outstretched hand. Once she's satisfied, she bumps her head on his hand. She looks at the other cats then back to Hobie.
The other two follow her lead and they both sniff at him, one of them, a cream colored shorthair, moves towards Hobie's legs, she begins to circle around him while she rubs her face on his leg. 
The last cat, black as the night, stares at Hobie with his bright green eyes, his eyes turn to slits as if to say - you're good to stay, but I'm watching you.
You finally head back to Hobie, Gasping at the scene in front of you. 
"Oh. My. God." You squeal, quickly grab your phone to snap a picture of the adorable moment. 
Hobie looks up at you "guess they like me" he gives you a lopsided smile, the previous emotion slowly dissipates around you both.
"This is a miracle, they usually don't like new people" 
Hobie stands up to his full height, careful not to step on the cats. "They've probably smelled me off you before" 
Heat rises on your cheeks with his implication, you cross your arms to not give away the effect he has on you. He saunters towards you, the cats run off towards their food. 
"Do you have catnip on you?" You eye him suspiciously. 
Hobie chuckles deeply "Nah, cats just have a natural affinity towards me" he grabs your face lovingly, "you wanna frisk me, to make sure?" He gives you his signature smirk. 
You let out a breath you've been holding. He comes closer to you until he's mere inches away,
"Fuckin' hell! What is that?" 
He lets you go, running towards your cat tree. Your excitement deflates. 
"It's their cat tree, the employee at the pet store called it a cat condo" you huff at another interruption. 
"A condo? Love, that's a full on mansion right there" he gestures toward the expansive structure, numerous branches, platforms and cubbies hang on it. 
"Too much?" You wince, terrified he might get turned off by it. 
"For them? Nah, I'm sure it's worth every penny" he looks at it, curious to see if he can DIY a few more floors to add to it.
"You wanna meet them formally?" He turns back around, he sees you carrying the orange tubby, her full stomach protruding.
"Yes," Hobie says a little too fast. 
You bounce the orange blob, "her name's Crumpet! She's the oldest one," you whisper the next part "I adopted her five years ago" 
"Why are you whispering?" 
"Because she doesn't know she's adopted" you whisper back. 
Hobie looks at you fondly, "dork" he softly says as he holds Crumpet's paw, "your mum's a dork" he looks at Crumpet with a smile. 
"Myeow" she answers back 
"I think that means she knows" you chuckle at your own joke.
"You're my dork" Hobie leans towards you for a kiss, he finds you adorable, he thinks you deserve a kiss just for that. 
Before he could though, he felt movement around his leg. He looks down to see your other cat, the cream colored one. 
"Oh," you clear your throat, trying to push down your excitement again. "That one is Teacup, When I got her she was so tiny she could fit inside a teacup" 
Hobie chuckles at the name "Tea and Crumpets, then?"
You nod, "Yep, and that one," you point with your head since your hands are occupied, at the black void sitting on top of your kitchen counter, looking directly at Hobie. "Is Crowley!" 
Upon hearing his name, Crowley drops down gracefully, he rubs his face on your leg, purring loudly. 
"He's a bit overprotective, ain't he?" Hobie looks at Crowley. Crowley glared at Hobie when he spoke. 
"Well, he is the man of the house" you shrug, as you sit down on your sofa. 
The second your back hit the soft plush of the sofa, your other two cats ran towards you, Crowley curls around himself on your lap while Teacup sits next to you looking at Hobie, like she's waiting for him.
You notice Hobie still standing, inviting him to sit next to you by patting the space closest to you. 
"Nyeow" Teacup whines towards Hobie.
"Can't say no to that" Hobie heads towards the space next to you, lifting up Teacup by her arms so he could sit closer to you. He places Teacup on his lap, she curls around herself immediately, purring loudly.
"It's a bit concerning how much she likes you" you softly say, craning your neck to look at Hobie lovingly petting Teacup. 
Hobie puts his non-petting arm around your shoulders moving you closer to him. "She has good taste, just like her mum" he leans towards your lips, slowly closing the gap. 
"Do you really like them? They're not too much?" You whisper against his lips before they meet.
"How could anyone not like 'em? They're perfect, even Crowley" 
You laugh at his jab, "Didn't peg you as a cat person" 
Hobie rubs your cheek endearingly "haven't I told you I'm a cat guy?" 
Hobie guides your face towards his again, when you suddenly gasp. 
"I forgot! I need to give you something" you drop Crumpet on his shoulder, while Crowley moves towards the sofa's armrest. "Be right back" pecking his lips.
"I've got it!" You emerge from the sides holding something. Sitting back down you give the small patch to Hobie. 
Hobie looks at the menacing aura emanating from the arm rest. He sees Crowley perched elegantly, his emerald eyes staring directly at Hobie. While Crumpet sways her tail across Hobie's chest, still perched on his shoulders.
Hobie stares back at Crowley, teasingly smirking at the cat.
"I think he's planning my murder" Hobie points out. 
"Aww he's a sweetheart, you'll win him eventually" you say while petting the void next to you, Crowley sits unmoving still staring daggers at Hobie. 
"Right, what's this?" Hobie looks at the piece of cloth in his hand. 
"It's a patch! I made it for you, y'know to add to your jacket" you ramble on to hide your sudden shyness. 
The patch has a stitched cartoon version of Crowley holding a knife in his mouth, the bottom of the design reads- 'piss off' 
"You made this?" He feels the stitches with his thumb. 
You bite your lip while nodding "you like it? I saw that you have a cat patch already, so I made you another one, she seemed lonely" 
"It's fuckin' gorgeous, lovey" He grabs your face in excitement, he kisses every inch of your face with a loud smooch in-between. 
Before he could finally kiss your lips, he heard a hiss from behind you. 
"Crowley!" You look behind you. "Don't be mean!" 
"Nope" Hobie grabs you by the back of your legs, He lifts you up with ease. You gasp while instinctively wrapping your legs around his hips. 
"What are you doing?" You laugh at his shenanigans. 
"You're my human shield" he says while he peeks at Crowley over your shoulder. 
"He's harmless" you giggle, as if on cue, Crowley raises his hips with a hiss, readying to pounce. 
"Okay, maybe not" you wrap your arms around Hobie's neck while he jumps towards your ceiling. He sticks to it by his hands and feet, while you use him as your personal hammock. 
"He can't reach us up here, right?" He asks you. 
You peek over his shoulder to see Crowley trying to reach you by jumping, while Teacup meows upward, Crumpet sleeps on the couch unbothered. 
You hide behind Hobie, cuddling his torso, the height giving you vertigo. 
"Don't worry, I've got you" he pats your behind before sticking his hand back on the ceiling. "Let me kiss you better" 
You lean up to look at his face, smirking in victory. "Was this a ruse to get me alone?" 
"Know me so well" he chuckles against your lips. You cup his face to stabilize yourself against his body. 
Kissing him back, you hear Crowley's mewls for you to come down.
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A/n: Thank you for reading! Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated! ❤️
*picture above is from pinterest*
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dcandmarvelimagines · 2 months ago
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sweeter than you ever knew. (pt 5)
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Series: pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5 Pairing: Wade Wilson x Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader Word Count: 6.2k Warnings: AFAB reader (uses she/her pronouns), 1st person POV, non-mutant Reader, this chapter is just smut, unprotected sex (p in v), rough sex, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, cum eating, nipple play, whiff of breeding kink (I'm very funny), biting, reader has a nightmare that's a little graphic but brief, Wade is very annoying lmao Author's note: I can't believe it's over!!!! It's insane to me how much love and support this had gotten :') I just want to say thank you so much from the bottom of my heart! Please enjoy! <3 ao3 Tags (if I forgot someone I'm so sorry!): @fallout-girl219 @xolosimp @o0aligoth0o @thedevilsaysthings @jaeyuni @redmitsuru5 @jeffs77 @spideybv28 @trumanbluee @jennapearce13 @chxrrybomb22 @7soulstars @what-the-jams @lostinheavensworld @purplestars222 @whiskeyghoul @paintballkid711 @unmotivated-artist164 @amararosesblog @bontensbabygirl @belgium2 @g0ldenstarr @wolvndmouth @sseleniaa @reddesires @harryshousewhore @sun7lowxr @minniekitties @ceobuggy @clancy-the-pretty-odd-killjoy @geckosssssss
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The next few days were a haze of food, sleeping, tender touches, and above all else, comfort. Most days I awoke to Wade cuddling close. Logan was too much of an early riser to stay in bed. He would get antsy the longer he lingered, grumbling about how he couldn’t just lay around all day. But I found that sleepy smiles and little nibbles to his jaw could convince him to stay. Even more so if I just happened to push my butt against his hips. 
My leg was healing well, the bruise fading to a dull purple after a few days. The pain was manageable but it always hurt in those first few hours of the day. Wade was more than happy to rub and kiss at my skin every morning. I stopped needing the painkillers during the day but Logan insisted I take one before bed to minimize any discomfort in the morning. It was easy to sleep with the numbing effects pumping through me. My body would feel heavy, my mind quiet and still. I never dreamed. I simply closed my eyes and awoke to the morning sun. 
But I was getting better. So I opted to not take one on their last night with me. It was hard to calm my racing mind and I tossed and turned before Logan snapped a heavy arm around me. “Do you want one?” He sleepily asked. Wade was already out, flat on his back, mouth open. Both of them were able to fall asleep in moments, a skill born from their military service, but Logan was unfortunately a light sleeper. 
“No,” I mumbled, tucking my head under his chin, running my nose along his throat. He had showered before getting into bed so the woody scent of his body wash was strong on his skin. “I need to stop relying on them, need to sleep on my own.” He hummed but stayed quiet. One of his big hands slipped under my shirt, rubbing soothing circles onto my skin. 
I was on the chair again but my limbs were free. I stood, looking around. No one was here. The concrete room was quiet and cold. I walked slowly to the large door, peaking through the small window. 
Nothing. 
Swallowing, I pulled it open. To my right was endless darkness and to the left was an infinite hallway. Something shifted in the darkness as I lingered. I quickly turned to the left. There were no windows or doors as I walked. 
I heard something over my shoulder. When I glanced behind, it looked like I had made no progress, the darkness still close to me. My pace quickened. I heard the sound again. A low gurgle. 
I could see a window at the end of the hallway, sunlight painted across the floor. A hand ran through my hair and I started to run. Whatever was behind me ran too. 
“Sweetheart.” 
The sunlight wasn’t getting any closer. 
But whatever was behind me was. 
I felt their breath along my neck. Cold needles pricked all along my spine. I couldn’t run any harder or any faster. Something caught my foot and sent me sprawling. Before I could scramble away, a hand latched around my leg, dragging me deeper into the darkness. I screamed, nails ripping at the concrete. 
“You’re safe, come on baby, wake up.” 
Then I was forced onto my back to look up at my attacker. It was him. His face was half gone, eyeball hanging from a destroyed socket, brain oozing and pulsating. I tried to fight him off, clawing uselessly at his mangled face. 
He glared down at me, hot blood splattering across my cheeks from his exposed skull. Then he held up the knife before plunging it deep into my chest. I wailed, fighting with everything I had. 
“Come on, you gotta wake up for me.” 
The knife tore from me with a disgusting sucking noise. Then he drove it in, again, and again. 
I sat bolt up straight, chest heaving as I panted. Cold sweat misted my skin and my clothes stuck to it. My eyes were cloudy from unshed tears. With shaking hands, I rubbed at them, and found something warm speckling my face. 
It was blood. 
“You back with us?” The voice was soft but I still jumped. Logan was also sitting up, his body tense. I could see four distinct scratches along his cheek in the weak moonlight. I let out a sob, clambering into his lap, arms latched tight around his shoulders. 
“I-I’m sorry,” I whimpered. He lifted the quilt over me and wrapped it tight. It didn’t stop my shivering. 
“You have nothing to apologize for. Should have known better than trying to touch you while you were having a nightmare.” I kept readjusting my hold, trying to find the position with the most contact. I wanted to crawl inside him, be encased in warmth and comfort. “It’s okay,” he hummed, throat vibrating against my forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.” His hands were under my shirt again, fingers digging into the tense muscles of my lower back. He let me shudder and cling to him for a few minutes, sobbing onto his shoulder, the skin quickly becoming slick with tears. “What do you need, princess?” 
“Just you, please,” I lifted my head from his shoulder, “just you.” Our mouths hovered close and he nearly went cross eyed to keep me in focus. Then he nodded. The kiss was sloppy and desperate but I didn’t care. I just wanted to feel him against me. He let me take charge, one hand braced on the back of my neck. For once, I wished he had worn a shirt just so I could grip it tight. I settled on digging my fingers into his hair. It had gotten long, trailing along the nape of his neck. The longer I kissed him, the more solidly in my body I felt. My head felt clearer as the last of the nightmare ebbed away. 
He was making these soft, tiny groans against my lips that made heat trickle through my veins. I needed more. My hands went to my shirt but Logan stopped me, his lips pulling back, forehead against mine. 
“Sweetheart,” he mumbled, collecting both of my wrists in one of his. “You aren’t thinking clearly.” 
“Says who?” I wiggled, trying to snake out from his grip. I knew it was impossible. But as I shifted, I felt something press against my stomach and Logan let out a faint groan when I pushed myself against it again. “You don’t get to make that decision.” 
“I can smell how scared you are.” 
“I’m not.” I sounded like a petulant child. I was scared. But I craved him and Wade. I wanted to let go, let them chase away all my worries, feel their skin against mine. 
“Relax, take a deep breath,” Logan hummed, ignoring my useless protest. The grip on my wrists had loosened and I took advantage, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him against the headboard. Anger was swirling up in me. 
“Stop telling me what I want. I thought you said you would give me anything I needed. Why is it so hard for you to think I might need you? Might need to feel…” I stumbled over the word I wanted to use, loved. Logan’s face relaxed, the worry leeching away, a soft affection replacing it. 
“Just don’t want you to rush into anything just because you’re scared, that your emotions are in high gear.” I huffed. 
“Then help me calm down,” I pleaded, kissing his scratchy cheek. “I know you and Wade will take good care of me.” He groaned, the sound low in his throat, eyes squeezing shut. “Please,” I whispered as I nipped the corner of his jaw. My nails lightly scraped along his chest as I waited for his response. 
“Okay,” Logan sighed, tilting his head back to allow me to bite and kiss at the newly exposed skin. “We can do that for you sweetheart.” I kept up my assault on his neck, marveling at the bruises disappearing seconds after I had placed them. “Are you done pretending to sleep now?” 
“I was just watching. We need to work on your self-confidence, peanut.” I shouldn’t have been surprised Wade was awake, and even less shocked that he’s been observing us. The bed behind me shifted and Logan spread his legs to accommodate Wade’s body. “If a hot piece like this is begging for sex, you shouldn’t try to convince them that they’re wrong.” Logan growled, his palms hot as they skated over my ass, before dipping into my panties, gripping the flesh. I rolled my hips over his and was rewarded by a small hitch in his breathing. 
“It’s not my confidence, I just need her with us to do this.“ His voice dipped, soft and sweet again,”lean back for me baby.” I do as he asked, back flush with Wade’s chest. Wade’s lips immediately descended on my throat and he cupped my breasts through my shirt. My eyelids grew heavy as he started to circle my nipples, the fabric a pleasant scrape. “Lift her up a bit,” Logan commanded. Wade curled one arm around my waist, easily raising me an inch or two off of Logan’s lap. 
Logan’s fingers dipped under the elastic of my panties, his eyes never moving from my face, examining every expression. He moved between my legs, the pad of his middle finger brushing my clit. I wasn’t wet or turned on enough, yet, for that simple touch to do anything, but I still pushed my hips forward, craving more. Wade nuzzled his face into my neck, sucking at the skin. That made me whine. Logan moved in languid motions over my clit, not too firm, and just enough to reignite the warmth inside me. 
Wade removed his lips from my thoroughly spit covered neck and made a satisfied humming noise at the sight. “So beautiful.” He released my breasts and I opened my mouth to protest but he slipped under my shirt to resume his treatment before I could. 
“Go back to kissing her neck, she likes it, don’t you sweetheart?” I nod, biting my lip as Wade tweaks my nipples. Logan’s middle finger traces around my entrance, collecting my slick, but going back to my clit, the new wetness making his finger glide easier. 
“He gets so bossy in bed,” Wade huffed. “Next time I’m in control.” Logan’s fingers suddenly left me and I gasped in shock. He reached up, his two middle fingers extended, pointed towards Wade. 
“Shut up,” Logan growled, “get these wet for her.” Wade was more than happy to oblige, lapping like a dog at the tips before swallowing them to the knuckles. With his mouth next to my ear, I could hear his exaggerated sucking and slurping. Logan groaned, hips bucking against mine briefly, before he pulled his fingers back. A long trail of spit stretched and snapped between the two. His hand dove under my underwear again, soaked finger prodding at my entrance. 
“Did you know, after that night in the bar,” Wade mumbled against my throat, lips tracing my racing pulse. “Logan came from just sucking you off my fingers.” I could feel the man under me tense, like he was going to attack Wade. But he relaxed when he felt how wet I had gotten from hearing that. A finger slipped inside me and I groaned, head falling back on Wade’s shoulder. Wade’s fingers were long, able to poke and prod anywhere inside me with ease. But Logan’s were thick and there was a pleasant stretch around it. “Oh look at that pretty, pretty face,” Wade cooed, abandoning my neck to kiss at my flushed cheeks. “He’s so big isn’t he?” I moaned in response as Logan started to pump into me. “But that stretch feels so fucking good. Makes your toes curl, doesn’t it?” 
“Yes,” I whispered. Logan’s chest rumbled, gripping my hip as he increased his pace. Wade reached for the hem of my shirt, one borrowed from Logan, and went to pull it over my head. 
“No,” Logan rasped, thumb pressing against my clit, forcing a moan from me. “I like her in it.” Wade chuckled. 
“He’s such an animal, isn’t he?” Wade teased, but let the shirt go. “He loves marking his territory. It’s going to drive him crazy to smell his cum in you.” 
“Wade, shut the fuck up.” Logan’s other finger eased inside me, being as gentle as he could be. My eyes rolled back, mouth hanging open. “Look at me, sweetheart. Wanna see your face, wanna see how good I make you feel.” Wade pinched my chin and used it to angle my head down. I couldn’t see Logan’s face well in the dim room but I could see little dark splotches on his cheeks. His nostrils were flared and his chest heaved. 
“God you two look so hot.” I could hear Wade sucking on something before his hands went back to toying with my nipples. My hips jerked, forcing Logan deeper into me, at the feeling of Wade’s wet fingers. He pressed himself closer and I could feel the defined ridge of his cock against my back. 
Logan’s grip on my hip became tighter as he guided me over his hand in long rolls. “There you go princess,” he mumbled. “Make yourself feel good for me. Take what you need.” Fuck. Those words made desire rush through me. I leaned forward, hands braced on Logan’s wide chest, and started to grind against his fingers. I could feel his heart racing under my palms. He curled his fingers just right that made pleasure shoot down my spine. Wade’s hands slipped from me in this new angle. 
“Feel so good,” I sighed, nails pricking into his skin. Logan showed no reaction of pain, his whole focus on me. He pressed against my clit, the pressure just firm enough that my toes curled. “Logan,” I mumbled and reached for his free hand. He gave it willingly and I immediately shoved it up my shirt so he could take over where Wade had stopped. He played with my nipple like he did my clit, long, firm strokes across the sensitive nerves. “Oh god,” I gasped, pleasure pooling deep in my stomach. My hips became more desperate as I chased after the orgasm just out of reach. 
“Aw, Lo,” Wade cooed, faux sympathy dripping from his words. “You’re so hard, do you want some help?” Logan’s hips jerked under me, his fingers spearing deeper, hand briefly clenching around my breasts. I let out a strangled moan at the stretch and rocked my hips quicker. 
“Leave it alone,” Logan hissed, eyes finally darting from my face to glare at Wade over my shoulder. “Don’t need anything but her. I’m taking good care of you, aren’t I baby?” I nodded furiously. I could feel that tension growing in my stomach, that heady rush of heat just within arms reach. “You’re close.” It wasn’t a question and I was too focused on my oncoming orgasm to answer. “You’re so wet for me sweetheart, probably taste like heaven.” 
”Oh she does,” Wade agrees, kissing the nape of my neck. Everything, their words, the rough scrape of Logan’s hands on my most tender areas, the knowledge that Wade is watching, kicked me over the edge. My body went rigid for a moment, a moan caught in my chest, before I ground against Logan with renewed desperation. 
“Fuck, Logan,” I panted. My nails were dug deep into his skin, the warmth of his blood soaking into my fingertips. 
“There you go princess, I got you.” His fingers were pumping into me, fucking me hard through my orgasm. It was exactly what I needed. 
“Logan!” My blurry eyes opened to see him gazing up at me. I was too far into the waves of my orgasms to find his expression, but I smiled down at him all the same. He made a little noise, halfway between a grunt and a moan. 
Soon the pleasure faded and my hips slowed. My breath was uneven. For a moment, that was the only sound in the room. Then Logan’s hand snaked up from my breast to cup the side of my neck. The neckline of the shirt stretched to accommodate his thick forearm. “Alright?” I hummed, little aftershocks rippling through me, my hips jerking over him. Once I stilled fully, his fingers left from me. I whimpered at the loss. He slipped his sticky fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling closed at the taste. 
“Come on baby muffin,” Wade breathed against my neck, licking a drip of sweat off the skin. “Let’s put on a show for him, yeah?” 
“Okay,” I sighed, “just one second.” I leaned closer to Logan, tongue flashing out to lick at the fingers still in his mouth. “Gimme a kiss,” I weakly demanded. He obeyed, removing the digits and dragging my face closer by my chin. His tongue delved into my mouth, the tang of me thick on it. I drew back with a faint smile before I nipped his bottom lip. 
“Let’s go, I’m not known for my patience,” Wade playfully growled, giving my ass a light spank. I giggled, rolling off Logan’s torso, the bed squeaking a little under me. Wade’s hands slid between my legs and spread my thighs apart. He hooked his fingers through my panties and inched them down my legs. I blushed as I felt the fabric cling to my wet pussy before it slipped away. “There you go, you nasty old man.” Wade tossed the bundle of wet fabric at Logan’s face again. The older man made an annoyed sound, throwing the sticky panties near my laundry hamper. 
“I don’t need it.” 
“You didn’t say that with the last pair,” Wade teased, my borrowed shirt climbing up my stomach. “You know,” he said, voice low like he was letting me in on a huge secret, “that last pair I grabbed was ruined. You wanna know how?” 
“Wade,” there was a hint of embarrassment in Logan’s voice. But I nodded eagerly, lifting my arms to let Wade slip the shirt off me, biting back a small giggle when he tickled across my ribs. 
“He made me come in them and then let me fuck him while they were shoved in his mouth.” Heat burned down my neck. “I can’t even see you, but I know you’re all turned on and pink.” Wade backed off the bed, shimming his pants down his narrow hips. I propped myself up on my elbows and squinted in the darkness, trying to take his naked body in. The shadows played across the ridges of his stomach, the V of his waist, and unfortunately lingered between his legs, completely obscuring what I actually wanted to see. “You look cute when you pout like that.” Wade clambered back over me, settling between my thighs, hands braced on either side of my head. His cock was heavy and warm as it rested on my stomach. “You know how long I’ve been waiting for this?” 
“I can take a guess,” I mumbled, arching my neck to brush my lips against his. A bead of warm liquid dribbled onto my stomach. “Why don’t you fix that?” He kissed me back, light pecks and lashes of his tongue on my lips. 
“As you command, my love.” My heart stuttered at the casual way he said the word. Wade leaned back on his knees, his fist pumping over his length. Just as he was lining himself up, my stomach tight in anticipation, Logan’s hand wrapped around Wade’s cock, stilling him. “You can wait your turn, peanut.” 
“Shut up you idiot.” Logan’s forearm flexed and Wade’s hips jerked with a strangled noise of pain. “Sweetheart, do you have condoms?” 
“No, but you guys can’t give me anything can you?” Logan shifted closer, his face becoming clearer in the dim light, there was a pinch of concern on it. 
“No, but we can get you pregnant all the same.” Logan’s nose twitched, clearly smelling that I got even wetter at the idea. “Fuck,” his voice was gruff, forehead falling to my bare shoulder. 
“Stop smelling me,” I hissed. “Anyways, I’m on birth control. Now let Wade fuck me.” Logan sighed and let Wade go. He took his cock in his hand, sliding it through my folds, rubbing my slick into his skin. 
“Ooh,” Wade teased, tapping my clit with each roll of his hips. “Remind me to get on your bad side. I like how you sound angry. Much better than big boy over there.” Wade notched himself at my entrance, pausing for a beat, then pushed into me. I moaned, back arching. He was so warm and twitching already. “Shit baby,” he mumbled, his focus solely on where he disappeared into me. He took his time, giving me an inch, before withdrawing, then working another in. 
It was absolutely maddening. 
“Wade,” I whined, the slow drag of his cock through my sensitive walls making my head spin. It seemed like he was never ending. I wanted him deeper and I tried to force it, but his grip was iron tight on my hips, completely freezing me. 
“Let me savor this, yeah? I only get this for the first time once.” His hips pressed flush to mine, all of him buried deep. He lifted my waist, the change in angle made my stomach clench, as he worked even deeper. 
“Fuck,” the word trembled as my eyes rolled back. The bed next to me creaked, then Logan’s lips were on my neck. He only left a few bites before he was trailing down my chest, tongue tracing along the hollow of my throat, the line of my collar bones. His beard scraped against my flushed skin as he moved. 
“I see what you mean,” Wade sighs, “she flutters so much when you kiss her neck.” He pulled out, just the tip lingering, before he surged forward. It wasn’t rough, but it made my breathing hiccup, ankles locking around him, heels digging into his ass. Logan’s tongue traced down my breast before circling a firm nipple. My hands locked into his hair, keeping him close. Wade continued his slow, torturous, push and pull. He was long enough that at this angle, he was able to rub against my sweet spot on each stroke. 
“Faster,” I pleaded, tightening my legs around him. This pace was only making me feel feverish, more desperate. I needed an edge, that bite of roughness, especially now. The nightmare was long forgotten but I could feel the lingering emotions in the back of my mind.
“Being so gentle,” Logan hummed against me, the hot air dancing over my wet nipple. I bit my lip at the feeling. “I would have thought you’d be fucking her like a rabbit.” When Wade didn’t respond, Logan titled his head to face him. “You really going to come already?”  
“You’re going to be the exact same way,” Wade huffed, shoving Logan’s face against my breast a little too aggressively. “You’re probably going to cry when you have her wrapped around your ancient dick.” Logan growled, sitting up straight, uncaring that I ripped several of his hairs out. He gripped Wade’s face, silver claws breaking his skin and glinting in the dim light. 
“Fuck her like she wants, or I’m going to.” Wade smirked. His face tilted, the edges catching on Logan’s claws, blood trickling down his bumpy skin. Shock mingled with the pleasure simmering in me. Wade had stalled in his movements so I was forced to wiggle my hips the best I could, giving myself a little friction. 
“Look at her Lo,” Wade nodded down at me, like there was anyone else her could be. “She likes it when you're rough with me. I knew you were lying about not wanting knives to be involved.” Wade seemed to enjoy watching me struggle. I reached up, Logan’s claws glancing across the back of skin, and bent Wade’s body in half, capturing his lips in a desperate kiss, arms latching tight around his neck. I bit at his lip hard enough to break the skin, hot liquid dripping into my mouth. Wade grunted in shock, his hips jerking roughly into me.
“You said you fucked harder with them involved,” I murmured between kisses. “Prove it.” Wade’s arms curled around my waist, clutching me close, plunging deep on a harsh thrust. I groaned, eyes fluttering, the angle making my thighs tremble. 
“Knew you had a mean streak in you.” His hips snapped into me finally giving me that needed roughness. I continued my sloppy kissing, nipping and sucking on his rapidly healing lips. His blunt nails dug into the soft skin of my hips as he gripped tighter. Another pair of calloused hands traced up my thigh, feather light as they moved up my skin. Wade trailed his lips along my cheek and jaw. Fingers pinched my chin and dragged my face to Logan’s. He littered my face with light pecks as Wade went to my neck. 
“Is he finally making you feel good? Took him long enough, huh?” 
“Do you,” my voice broke as Logan slipped his hand between Wade and I’s bodies, rolling his fingers over my clit. “Do you have to antagonize each other all the time?” 
“Yes,” they said in unison. Logan’s mouth went to my neck again, his teeth sinking into the curve of my neck, nearly hard enough to break skin. My hand went back to his slightly sweat-dampened hair while the other laid across Wade’s flexing shoulders. With both of their mouth’s occupied, the only thing filling the room was the wet sound of Wade pounding into me and my ragged gasps.That familiar swirl of heat was growing in me. My head felt light, overwhelmed by all the sensations. 
Wade’s forehead pressed between my breasts, his own uneven breath coasting across my sweaty skin. “Fuck,” he mumbled. His pace was losing its consistency but none of its harshness. Logan’s fingers on my clit picked up in speed, the scrape of his callouses extra intense on my tender skin. I whined, my body shuddering as pleasure shot through me. Logan’s mouth slanted against mine and swallowed down all my noises. It wasn’t quite a kiss, I was quickly growing out of breath to linger too long, but Logan didn’t mind. 
Wade was adjusting my position in tiny ways, a slight tilt to the right, a little lift, a small drop. I figured it was just a coincidence until he hit that perfect spot inside me that would have made my eyes cross if they weren’t already closed. I let out a strangled wail of Wade’s name, nails ripping into his shoulder. “There we go,” he panted. 
It only took four more strokes. 
“Wade, I- I’m gonna,” I barely got the words out before the hot coil inside me snapped. Just like Logan’s fingers before, Wade fucked me through my orgasm, groaning at the tight squeeze. Logan slowed over my clit, knowing that overstimulation was creeping up. 
“In or out?” Wade’s voice was clipped, hips finally losing all sense of rhythm, just becoming uneven jerks. It was hard for him to even move with the vice grip my legs had around him. 
“In, ah Wade, in please!” He made a choked noise, somewhere between a moan and whine, as he pushed in as far as he could with a shudder. Warmth spread through me as he came with a long groan. “Fuck,” I mumbled, my hips still trembling from the aftershocks. 
Our bodies slowed, all the shakiness easing out of us. Wade kept me close even when my legs fell from his hips. He laid his cheek against my sternum, body growing heavier over me as he relaxed. I gave his head a weak kiss just as another pair of lips found my cheek. “You okay baby?” I smiled at Logan, feeling just a little giddy. 
“Yeah.” Logan smirked back and I blinked sleepily at him. Wade was softening inside me and drips of cum traced down my skin to the bed. I winced at the stickiness. 
“I’ll get you a towel,” Logan said, already moving to get off the bed, legs on the floor. My arm stretched to grab his fingers. 
“It’s your turn.” I couldn’t see his face too well, but I saw his head tilt in question. I chuckled. “Wade, get off me now.” He groaned, sucking a hickey right on my chest before rolling next to me. I moved to my hands and knees, crawling across the mattress to be face to face with Logan. I heard his breath stutter. “Cleaning up can wait can’t it?” My hand slid between his legs, gripping his cock through his boxers. “How do you want me?” I felt him throb in my grip. 
“Jesus,” he huffed. I littered his neck in licking kisses while I awaited his response. “Go sit on Wade’s face.” Now it was my turn to look at him confused. He smirked, a flash of a pointed tooth catching in the street light outside. “Don’t you trust me princess?” Reluctantly, I released him, turning on my knees to inch across to Wade. I made sure to shimmy my ass for Logan as I moved. 
“Oh dessert.” I had barely swung my leg over Wade’s face before he pulled me down by my hips. His tongue parted my folds, flicking aggressively at my tender clit before sliding back and licking his cum from me. I shuddered, hands gripping his head. The bed shifted and I felt Logan’s palm slide up my spine before cupping my neck gently and guiding my torso to be flat to the bed. I braced myself on my elbows, adjusting my hips, the new angle only allowing Wade to continue his torture on my clit. Calloused hands spread me farther open. Logan lapped away all the cum that had leaked down my thighs. I whimpered, fingers knotting the bed sheets. But the sound grew in volume and pitch as Logan joined Wade, tongues tangling briefly, before he speared into my leaking pussy. Wade laughed as I shook above him. His hot breath fanned across my wet skin and I had to bite my lip to stop from wailing. 
“How do we taste?” I had no idea how Wade was even speaking as he was practically smothered under me. Logan groaned, nuzzling his face deeper into me, his grip tight enough to leave bruises on my ass. His tongue curled, licking every inch of my clenching channel. The scratch of his beard was like little pinpricks of pain but it only made me push my hips against him harder. The sounds I was making were downright pathetic. Just when I didn’t think I could take anymore, he reared back, breath uneven. I glanced over my shoulder to find his eyes glued to where Wade was pinned. When he looked almost content to just watch, I shimmed my hips, grinding harder on Wade’s face. The man under me eagerly sucked my clit into his mouth and I sobbed at the feeling. 
“Shit,” he huffed, “you two are gonna kill me.” There was more adjusting and then I felt the blunt head of Logan’s cock at my entrance. Wade released my clit, opting to just rub his nose against it. It was enough friction to keep me satisfied, but not enough to make me come too quickly. “Beg for it.” 
“Aw you’re being so mean!” 
But I was all too eager. “Please fuck me Logan, please! Been thinking about it so long! I promise I’ll make you feel so goo-ah!” With one long stroke, Logan was buried to the hilt. Despite how wet I was and the extra slick of Wade’s cum, there was still the barest hint of pressure as he stretched me. “Oh god,” I whimpered. Logan’s rough hands grasped my hips, giving an experimental roll. “Logan.” He shushed me, drawing his cock nearly out before plunging back into me. The force punched a moan out of me. “Like that,” I pleaded. 
“I’ll take care of you, sweetheart,” he hummed. His pace was languid, but rough. He used my waist as leverage to drag me closer for each thrust. With each pull, I was forced to grind myself against Wade’s face, who stuck his tongue out so I couldn’t escape the pleasure. I was so wound up, so close to the edge after two orgasams, that I could only take a handful of his harsh strokes before I was coming again. I buried my face in the sheets, shuddering whines falling from my lips. “Shit,” Logan groaned. Wade made a muffled noise as my juices dripped into his mouth. His own hands joined Logan’s, clutching me close. I could feel Logan’s thighs trembling where they were pressed against mine. 
I hadn’t fully finished my orgasm before Logan was moving in me again. He was far less restrained now, fucking into me with quicker thrusts. My toes curled. “Logan,” I sobbed. Despite the overstimulation growing in me, I arched my back, forcing Logan deeper.
“Feel so good, I can’t handle it,” Logan grunted. He bent over me, messily kissing at my spine and shoulder blades. “Too much?” His voice was quiet as it tickled along my neck. 
“No!” I cried, bouncing against him as best I could with both of them holding me. Wade chuckled and the vibrations made me nearly rip the sheets in my grip. “More!” Logan huffed a laugh, kissing the back of my neck, before his hand replaced it, pinning me to the bed. The pressure was enough that I knew not to move, but light enough that I could slip out from it if I needed to. 
Logan fucked into me like a man possessed, hips rutting into me with reckless abandoned. I had no doubt there would be faint bruises on my ass from him. But that pinch of pain only drove me higher. I felt drunk on all the sensations. Logan rubbing against my tender walls. Wade’s tongue as it rolled between my folds, tracing my entrance. The ache in my hips from being spread so long. My moans of their names grew more slurred before it just became whimpers. Tears stung my eyes and I let them fall freely. 
“Goddamnit,” Logan growled, his hand briefly flexing around the back of my neck. He was panting, if only a little, and I took it as a compliment. His hips moved quicker, the slap of his skin against mine echoing around the room. Wade’s tongue stopped wandering and honed back onto my clit, making tight circles around it. 
“Wade!” I cried out, body jolting. Logan’s hand suddenly went to my shoulder, jerking me up straight, my back flush to his chest. He banded an arm across my chest to pin me close while he drove into me. His lips found his previous bite mark and sunk his teeth into it. The feeling of my skin breaking was a dull burn, soothed by Wade between my legs. Heat burst through me, an orgasm that nearly knocked the wind from me. My hand went to Logan’s hair, fingers twisted deep into the strands, and held him close, weak sobs of euphoria escaping me. His other arm curled around my hips before he shoved himself as deep as he could with a little snarl into the skin clutched between his teeth. I could feel every twitch as he came, filling me to the brim. I shook in his embrace. If not for his iron grip, I would have fallen flat on my face on the bed. 
The first thing to move was Logan’s teeth from my neck. “Fuck.” His worry was clear as he licked the dripping blood away. “I, I-shit, I didn’t mean to, I just got so caught up in you.” My weak hand slid from his hair, caressing his jaw. 
“S’okay,” I slurred. Exhaustion was quickly catching up to me. ”Felt good.” 
“You really can’t help but bite any piece of meat you see huh?” Wade’s tongue swept between my folds again, lapping up Logan’s cum as it leaked from me. Logan growled. I felt Wade’s fingers brush against me, curling around Logan’s softening cock before tugging it out. I whined as he obnoxiously slurped the mixture of cum from me. 
“Stop it,” Logan growled. “Make yourself useful and grab a towel.” With lots of adjusting, Wade was able to wiggle out from under us. But he didn’t go to the bathroom, instead he cupped the back of Logan’s head, meeting him in a kiss. Logan groaned. 
“Taste good right?” Wade leaned back, grinning, before licking Logan’s face from chin to nose. 
“How about you go grab a towel before I put my claws through your chest, yeah?” If anything, Wade’s smile grew wider, more wild. 
“Okay, okay. How about I get a towel to clean our precious girl up and then we can have some fun while she recovers?” Logan sighs. 
“Fine,” he grumbled. Wade shimmied in excitement, giving me a wet peck on the cheek, before disappearing out of the bedroom. My heavy head fell back on Logan’s shoulder. “Do you feel better now?” I gave a weak laugh and nuzzled my face against his cheek. 
“I can get used to this.” Logan hummed. 
“Me too sweetheart, me too.”
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gothcsz · 1 month ago
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oh to have javi come over and seduce you when you're out at a bar and then fuck you so good you can't even think straight
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tags: f!reader, mentions of infidelity, established relationship, no use of y/n, roleplaying, smut, unprotected p in v sex (be safe), any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know ok thx.
~ 2k w/c - gif cred
a/n: you guys must be stopped! leaving me sexy prompts like this! i have no choice but to write themmmmm! i got an ask a few weeks ago talking about roleplaying with javi and well... i had to incorporate it somehow. also, that one scene in narcos (hence the gif…) hehe enjoy cariño 🖤
You sit hunched over your martini glass, idly swirling the ice. The air in the bar is warm and hazy, filled with laughter and conversations you’re barely aware of.
It’s been a long week—the kind of week that crawls under your skin and leaves you in desperate need of a drink.
You had left work with no destination in mind, eventually finding your way here, hoping your favorite cocktail would smooth out the edges before you had to face the quiet of home.
You take the last sip of your drink just as the bartender places a fresh one in front of you, her lips pulled into a knowing smile. “Courtesy of the cute guy down there,” she says, jerking her head toward the end of the bar. Instinctively, you turn to look.
And he’s… well, calling him cute feels criminally inadequate.
He’s handsome as hell, with dark, captivating eyes and features that would look more at home on the big screen than here, in the half-light of this neighborhood bar.
He smirks like he knows exactly the effect he has. You meet his gaze, lift your glass in acknowledgment, and take a careful sip.
That’s all the invitation he needs. He slides off his stool, weaving his way through the scattered crowd until he’s beside you, easing into the empty seat with a smoothness that feels almost practiced.
The confidence only adds to his appeal.
“Didn’t know people still did this,” you say with a wry smile, though you’re subconsciously reveling in the attention.
You shift your hand subtly, so the glint of your ring catches the light—a reflex, a reminder to yourself and a warning for him.
His gaze sweeps over you with an unapologetic gleam. “Did I come off too strong? Couldn’t help myself, especially not with a beautiful woman drinking alone. Feels like fate.”
You laugh, the sound escaping you before you can stop it. There’s something invigorating about his brazen confidence, and he seems to notice, leaning a little closer.
“He must be out of town or something,” he murmurs, his eyes drifting down to the diamond on your ring finger. “No way he’d let you sit here all by yourself.”
You tilt your chin up a little, defiant. “I’m perfectly capable of going out on my own, thank you very much.”
He hums, a low, amused sound as he lifts his glass and takes a slow sip. The scent of bourbon reaches you, mingling with the subtle notes of smoke and black teakwood radiating from him.
“So you’re married,” He murmurs, more of an observation than a question.
“Three years,” you reply, and when his brow arches with playful curiosity, you can’t help but feel the tiniest thrill. There’s something intoxicating about a stranger’s interest, especially one with beautiful brown eyes that linger just a second longer than they should.
“Three years… Happily?” His words are gentle, teasing, yet they strike a nerve, and you can’t help but tip your head back and giggle, feeling the warmth of the alcohol and his presence loosening something inside you.
“Is this your thing?” you ask, feigning suspicion as you lean toward him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Chasing after lonely, married women at bars?”
His head tilts slightly, intrigued. “Lonely?” he echoes, the word rolling off his tongue like a test. His brow lifts just a fraction. “Now, don’t tell me he’s not taking care of you.”
You straighten, getting a little defensive. “He does, trust me,” you say, and though you mean it, there’s a flicker of something—a crack in the polished surface you present. “It’s just… his job. He works long hours, and it’s been hard, not seeing each other as much as we used to.”
You’re definitely tipsy, venting to this stranger that’s hitting on you about your marriage and how it’s fallen into a rut recently. To keep yourself from digging yourself a deeper hole, you drink more of your cocktail.
As if sensing the vulnerability behind your words, he leans in closer, his attention unbreakable, drawing you in like a force of gravity. His eyes move, tracing the shape of your lips against your glass, dipping down to the glimpse of lace beneath your blouse.
He lets out a low, exaggerated sigh, shaking his head as he lifts his drink again. “Shame, really,” he murmurs, eyes flicking back to meet yours. “If it were me, no job would keep me from a wife as stunning as you.”
His words hit you like a warm gust of wind, filling you with a sudden, startling awareness of how long it’s been since anyone looked at you like this, made you feel desired. And you can’t really blame your husband, you knew what you were getting yourself into when you said yes to his proposal—how demanding his job is.
But all of your logical reasoning seems to disappear entirely in the presence of this rugged, attractive man.
Your cheeks heat, and instinctively, your thighs press together. He notices, a spark of amusement lighting his face as he leans just a bit closer.
And then, his hand lands on your thigh, his fingers spreading out over the fabric of your pants. It’s a daring move, but there’s something about it that thrills you, and you feel a low hum of excitement settling in your core.
Oh, he’s bold.
“What are you doing?” you whisper, though there’s no true bite in your voice.
“Just testing the waters,” his hand inches slightly higher, fingertips grazing your skin. He leans in, breath warm against your ear, and your skin curls. “Seeing if I’m readin’ things right.”
“Are you?” The words are barely audible, more of a breath than a question, but he hears you.
“Why don’t you tell me?” he murmurs, his thumb rubbing circles that send electricity up your leg.
You swallow, feeling a surge of reckless abandon taking over as you ask, “What’s your name?”
“Javier,” he answers, “Call me Javi. Or whatever you want, really.”
“And what makes you think I’d throw away years of my relationship for one night with you, Javi?”
His smile morphs into a cocky smirk, confidence radiating off him. “Because,” he whispers, eyes glazed over with a heat that makes your pulse race, “I’d make it worth your while.”
For a second, you consider letting him take you on this bar in front of all these people. His hand squeezes your thigh gently, the pressure igniting a spark low in your belly. 
He leans back, his gaze fixed on you as he studies your face, waiting, watching for any sign of permission.
At last, you let out a breath, reaching down to place your hand over his. With a polite smile, you slide it off your leg. “I can tell that handsome face of yours always gets you what you want. That won’t be the case tonight, but I’m flattered. Thank you for the drink, Javier.”
He drags his thumb across his bottom lip, a slow, almost contemplative gesture as his gaze rakes over you one last time. “No problem,” he says, voice dripping with an almost playful disdain. “Have fun with your husband.” His words dance in that gray area between teasing and tempting.
You know better than to stay any longer, aware that another moment with him will get you in trouble. It’s already dangerous that you let his hand linger on you, already a risk that your mind wandered to how blissful a night with him would be. You’re not the kind of person who cheats—or at least, you didn’t think you were.
He downs the rest of his drink, his eyes fixed on you with that lingering, dark curiosity before he finally pushes back, letting the warmth of his presence slip away like a tide retreating, leaving you almost breathless.
You can’t believe yourself, how part of you feels ready to throw caution to the wind for one more minute in his attention. 
A surge of longing—a need to feel desired, to feel seen—overcomes you. Before you can stop yourself, your voice slips out, soft but clear. “Actually…”
He halts, that cocky smile curling at the edges as he turns, his eyes glinting as he faces you, slowly, like a cat stalking back into a room. His grin grows wider, a spark of victory there as he watches you, waiting for what you’ll say.
“I think I could use another drink.”
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Your body is flush against Javier’s, his skin hot and slick beneath your fingers as you straddle his lap on the couch. Every inch of you feels alive, heightened, as you move with purpose, grinding down on him like the cock starved woman that you’ve turned into.
He fills you perfectly, stretching and pressing in ways that make your toes curl and your mind blur. Sweat slips down your spine as you cling to him, feeling his mouth on your neck, trailing heated kisses that turn into little bites on your chin, each one sending another jolt of pleasure through you.
His hands are rough and possessive, gripping your ass and guiding your movements, matching the frantic, hungry rhythm you’ve both built together.
There’s nothing but him—the heat, the pressure, the way he’s burying himself in your cunt.
You’re mindless, every thrust bringing you closer to that tipping point. You can feel your pussy tightening around him, already on the edge.
You’ve lost count of how many times he’s coaxed you to release tonight. On his tongue, his fingers—each one drowning you in white heat and leaving you gasping.
This one on his cock, though, is building with a tantalizing pressure, leaving you almost immobile as you near it.
Your body is already feeling sore.
“Look so pretty bouncing on my cock.” His praise, laced with his own need, sends you over.
You shudder, your walls clenching around him as you gush your creamy release all over his cock. Your head falls back while another orgasm surges through you, crying out his name.
He growls in response, shifting you beneath him, your back hitting the cushions as he moves over you. His hips snap forward, each thrust sending another shock of pleasure through your oversensitive body until he pulls out with a grunt, fist jerking his cock until his milky release paints across your skin, warm and sticky.
You’re both panting, bodies sated and tangled together in a haze of lust and satisfaction.
He leans his weight onto you, pressing close without a care for the mess between you as he buries his face in your neck, letting your heartbeats slowly calm in sync. 
“Lonely, huh?” he murmurs, his voice gravelly, breaking the cozy silence.
You can’t help but snort softly, fingers finding their way into his dark hair and giving it a playful tug, a gentle reprimand. “It’s true.”
Javier pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes tender and filled with that unmistakable love, deep and unguarded. “I’m sorry, baby,” your husband whispers, shifting up on one arm while his other hand finds your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. “I promise it won’t always be like this.”
His words settle into you and you nod, still feeling the lazy warmth in your body from his touch, his kiss. Your legs wrap snugly around his waist, pulling him close. “I know, Javi. I don’t always feel like that, and I see how hard you work to make it home to me.”
He leans down, brushing his nose against yours. You close the distance, pressing a light kiss to his still-swollen lips, savoring the feeling of him so close.
After a beat, he chuckles, a playful glint flickering in his eyes. “Gotta say, the whole ‘strangers at the bar’ thing was kind of hot. Had me wondering just how many guys try their luck when you’re out there alone.”
Your lips curve into a smirk, mirroring his. “Likewise. You’re a natural flirt without meaning to.”
He scoffs playfully, shaking his head. “Other women haven’t existed to me since we met, mi amor.”
Then he goes and says things like that, a reminder of all the little ways he shows you how much you mean to him.
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started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤
🏷️ : @almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @persephone-girl . @magneticecstasy . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @angiewatson . @sunshinefive . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @dinanabuu
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yerimbrit · 3 months ago
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insufferable : k. chaewon
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synopsis: i (21f) absolutely detest my roommate (21f). we've known each other for years, but have always had this unspoken beef?, for lack of a better word. i tried requesting a dorm change but was denied. my friend offered to switch dorms but my roommate started acting weirdly after i told her about it. what should i do?
# : pairing ! nonidol!kim chaewon x fem!reader
# : tags ! college!au, enemies to something else, crack, fluff, light angst, they're so petty it's insane, forced proximity, reader is lowk a jock, temperature is in fahrenheit cus i'm american sorry, miscommunication, arguments, kazuha owns a wii and a betta fish
# : wordcount ! 4.7k
# : warnings ! none
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"you've got to be kidding me."
chaewon scoffed, looking at you with an expression that nearly matched yours which held an inexplicable amount of disgust. she rolled her suitcase into the dorm, slipping off her vans slip-ons. "shouldn't i be saying that? no one would want to room with you, hello?"
you scowled, turning back to the tv, logging into your netflix account. "you know what, whatever. i mind my own business, you mind yours. let's just make this easier on both of us, yeah?"
"for once, i agree with you."
ah, yes. kim chaewon. the bane of your existence, and also the girl you'd been beefing with since the third grade. it all started when she said that she could beat you in a race during the sports festival. then, after she lost the race, she had started stealing your juiceboxes when you weren't looking. as a result, you laughed at her crayon drawings and knocked down her block towers for revenge.
the exchanges eventually escalated into middle school and high school, your rivalry turning into petty arguments and pointed glares across the room. it only got worse when your mothers had gotten close at one particular school event, and you had to see chaewon even more than usual. to add onto that, you always saw her at your basketball games because she was the captain of the cheer team.
kim chaewon was a constant in your life. and god, was she so annoying.
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"she's so annoying," you grumbled, popping a french fry into your mouth. "i mean, who the hell does pilates in the living room!?"
kazuha smiled and took a sip of her root beer. "me. it's actually kind of fun, you should try when you can't make it to the gym."
"you know she's a gym bro, it's like her second home," yunjin snorted, stealing a fry off of your plate, which effectively earned her a swat of the hand.
yunjin and kazuha were both on the basketball team with you, but kazuha was also on your high school team. you were the one who'd convinced her to join due to her height, on just her second day at school after transferring from japan. then, you and kazuha met yunjin at orientation, who was also planning on trying out for your college's team, and once you all made it, you were inseparable.
you sighed. "you're literally the one who goes with me, yunjin."
the american threw her hands up in a guilty manner, then stole another fry. "anyway, can we talk about something else? this whole time you've been talking about your roommate, personally i don't care but i hear this everyday. you even blow up the groupchat to talk about her."
"i think i've heard her name more than my own," kazuha shuddered. she drank the rest of her soda, resulting in the straw making an obnoxious sound when the cup emptied. "are you sure you aren't like, in love with her or something? i've never seen you talk about someone so much, someone other than chaewon."
you gagged. you? in love with chaewon? quite the opposite. "that's absolutely disgusting, zuha. don't ever mention me, chaewon, and in love, in the same sentence, again."
you would rather die than date kim chaewon. literally everything about her infuriated you. for example: she woke up way too early.
recalling the past few days, you grimaced. last night while you were on a game-replay-turned-movie-binge, you heard the girl start singing and working in the kitchen. and while you had to admit she did have a killer voice, it was 5 am and you still hadn't gone to sleep.
also, she spent hours in the bathroom. even after being let known that you were exhausted and sweaty from practice, she spared no pity for you. she even went as far as to take another thirty minutes just to spite you. what did she even do in there?
and every time you came back late from a party or from hanging out with yunjin and kazuha, she scolded you. it was always about having some respect for her and how irresponsible you were for not returning at an appropriate time. what was she, your mom?
it seemed chaewon just loved to scold you. be quiet at night, stop leaving your towels everywhere, can you shut up so i can study, clean up after you finish your takeout, that wasn't even the end of it.
(after a grueling practice session led by your team captain, you were just about ready to pass out on your bed. unfortunately, you couldn't do that until you showered and chaewon was in the sole bathroom that your dorm had.
"why's it so fucking hot," you whined, begrudgingly getting up to check the thermostat. as you shuffled over while wiping your forehead clear of sweat with the towel hanging around your neck, you could slowly and clearly make out the number 78.
"what the fuck."
"oh, you're back."
speak of the devil, who just came out of the shower with her hair still wet and dripping onto her white my melody tee.
you furrowed your eyebrows, trying not to focus on her appearance, her bare face that looked too good, and pointed to the thermostat. "could you," you coughed, wiping the sweat off of your nose, "care to tell me why our dorm is set to 78 degrees."
chaewon sneered. "it was cold.")
a text sucked you out of your dingy flashback. it was from chaewon, of course it was. 'it's ur turn to take out the trash this week.' how about it's your turn to take her out? with a punch, of course. yeah.
"gotta go," you stood up, letting out an unnecessary and exaggerated groan as you stretched your back muscles. "the demon is calling."
"so can i have your last fry or what?"
you scoffed at yunjin, snatching the fry and shoving it in your mouth. the blonde mumbled something under her breath that you couldn't catch, but kazuha interjected before you could flick her on the nose.
"hey, you should do us a favor and confess already!"
"i don't like her like that! or at all! i'll stop spamming you if that's what you want, just stop assuming i have a crush on chaewon."
yunjin smirked. "'cause you do?"
"'cause i don't!"
you started walking towards the exit of the diner, dreading the upcoming encounter with your roommate. and also dreading the future "chaey/n" ship texts from the two idiots. you reminded yourself to set up an anti-yunjin booth to counter her upcoming student council campaign.
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"you can kiss a hundred boys in ba—"
"can you shut the fuck up? i'm trying to study," chaewon half-groaned and half-yelled as she slammed your door open.
you were currently in a sweat-inducing fight against malenia in your summonless run of elden ring, with sakura (who happened to be best friends with chaewon) screaming in your ear whenever you failed to dodge the boss's waterfowl dance. just as you narrowly avoided an attack, you started singing good luck, babe! in a panic.
because you were still fighting the boss, and because you only heard something thud, you didn't realize that your fuming roommate was standing in your room, waiting for you to notice her presence.
chaewon moved to stand next to you, hands on her hips as her patience continued to thin out. the 'you died' screen faded in on your screen and you respawned at the site of grace, whining while sakura both laughed at you and scolded you through the discord voice chat.
through the corner of your eye, you could barely see a bit of pink. huh. what was pink in your room? almost nothing, besides the pinkie pie plush that yunjin had gotten you as a joke, but that was resting on your bed and you certainly didn't recall getting anything else this week.
...until you looked up and saw the scowling face of kim chaewon.
"how did you not see me for the past ten minutes."
your mouth dropped open and you pressed the mute button on your mic before taking your headphones off. "i was busy! and why are you here anyway?"
chaewon gripped the pale pink fabric of her twice hoodie in frustration. "i came in ten minutes ago to tell you to shut up, but you didn't hear me!"
"you could've, i don't know, tapped my shoulder!?" you yelled back, pinching the bridge of your nose. how were you supposed to know she was there when you were so focused on your computer screen?
"ugh!" she turned away, exasperated. "god, i wish you out of all people weren't my roommate! i mean who even sings to chappell roan while they're being chased down!?"
upon hearing her words, it hit you. you had asked the RA minjeong for a dorm change, but she had simply told you to suck it up, or find someone willing to swap with you. and lucky for you, sakura was more than willing to do exactly that, because she hated rooming with your best pal yunjin.
"you know what, i've got just the news for you."
the shorter girl looked startled, but ever so impatient. "what?"
you pulled up your texts with the older japanese girl, revealing an agreement that she would switch with you because "yunjin keeps taking naps on our sofa and leaving crumbs everywhere u can have her," smiling in victory.
to your utter surprise, chaewon went quiet. then she bit her lip and left your room without another word.
"what the fuck?"
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this week felt different. you no longer heard humming from the kitchen in the morning but heard sounds of sizzling and clashing, the fresh aroma of breakfast she cooked making its way even through the door to your room.
chaewon stopped doing pilates in the living room, she stopped telling you to clean up and instead waited for you to do it at your own pace. she stopped texting you to shut up, and she hadn't spent any more time than necessary in the bathroom besides her lengthy nightly routine.
it was weird. why was chaewon doing the exact opposite of what you complained about?
so you did the obvious and asked her about it, when she was in the living room watching something on your netflix account connected to the tv.
"hey."
she hummed, not bothering to turn around and face you. what the hell was her problem?
you strided to the side of the couch, scoffing when she didn't pay even an ounce of attention to you. unfortunately, that only pissed you off more. you grabbed the remote and paused the episode of whatever drama she was on.
the girl whipped her head around, eventually meeting your eyes. "what are you doing!?"
your roommate took her dramas very seriously. so of course, this resulted in an agitated chaewon. well, at least she was looking at you.
"no," you started, "what are you doing?"
she furrowed her brow, crossing her arms. "i don't know what you're talking about."
seriously? she still wanted to play dumb? you crossed your arms, mirroring her posture. "you know damn well what i'm talking about. you're acting so," you threw your hands up in a mocking manner, "weird. you're not trying to piss me off anymore. which, in turn, is pissing me off even more!"
"are you a masochist, by any chance?" she ridiculed, stifling her laughter.
"no! can you just answer my question?"
chaewon scowled, standing up from her spot on the couch and walking right in front of you. there was an angry red blush settling on her ears, and she had to look up at you. it would be a lie to say it wasn't the least bit cute.
her finger pressed on your chest, forcefully pushing you back by half a step. "i've been acting nice for you, and this is how you respond? can't you be grateful for once in your sorry life!?"
"well i'm sorry that i'm weirded the fuck out when you're always so pissy! can you imagine my reaction when you suddenly start acting like an angel? good thing you don't need to imagine, it's right in front of you," you stepped closer to her, gritting your teeth.
as you looked down you could see slight eyebags messily covered by makeup, and the strands of hair sticking out after she haphazardly tied it into a bun. you almost wanted to reach out and at least move her bangs out of her face.
on the other hand, chaewon was seething. "you know what?" she hissed, glaring at you with such killer intent that it made you shrink back. "i'm glad you're moving out. sakura would be so much better than you."
her anger reflecting in her teary eyes had reached you, yet there was a hint of softness somewhere in them. you sighed in defeat. "...fine."
"fine? hey, wait! i'm not done with you, damn it!"
without waiting for an answer, you grabbed your phone and keys, walking out the door while ignoring the shorter girl's questions and yells.
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you found yourself in kazuha's apartment. the basketball player lived by herself, not counting the super blue betta fish she kept in the living room. jinsoul—the betta, you mean—was trained and was even taught to do tricks, like following your finger across the aquarium, swimming through hoops, et cetera.
"so you mean to tell me, you just walked out after fighting with her and let yourself in with my spare key?" kazuha yawned out, dropping a few pellets into the tank. a wide grin spread across her lips as she watched the fish eat.
sometimes it felt like kazuha believed that jinsoul (again, the fish) was her real daughter; it would be laughable if she wasn't so dead serious about it. the topic was always brought up by either you or yunjin when you were over, but was always deflected by the girl.
you groaned, making yourself comfortable on her linen couch. there was a barely noticeable stain in the corner where yunjin had spilled her buldak noodles, to which she apologized profusely and brought over a dozen cleaning products to get rid of it.
safe to say, it was successful, since she, for some reason, already had these products in her car and rushed over to get them.
the three of you were the only ones who knew about the stain. oftentimes you'd forget it was there, but the initial sight of it would crawl out from the back of your mind.
"at least i didn't come back empty-handed. i got you one of those overpriced parfaits from the café down the block," you picked at a stray hangnail, staring at the view of the foliage outside of the window.
kazuha rolled her eyes, suppressing a grin but ultimately failing. she made her way over to you with the parfait, moving your legs so she could sit down. a contented sigh made its way out her mouth after she took the first bite.
her hand reached for the tv remote, pressing the power button and switching to a certain hdmi channel. "i know what would cheer you up."
she reached over to press another button on an old, white console, then pulling out two rectangular controllers. it took a while, but soon you could hear the fan of the wii roar to life and see the familiar opening display on the tv.
it didn't take you long to realize your teammate's intention in booting up the wii. your eyes widened in horror as you watched kazuha push the small coffee table to a corner and select the top left channel which showed the wonders of hell, and your worst fear: just dance 4.
"zuha, you can't be serious."
the girl only hummed and took her last bite of the parfait, which disappeared within seconds. jesus, sometimes you forgot she was practically a vacuum when it came to food.
now, you had no way out of this; you were only able to whine when you got handed the controller, and only able to watch while kazuha scrolled to what was arguably one of the hardest songs: disturbia. and as much as you admired rihanna you could not do this without cracking your hips at least once.
➤➤ fast forward
kazuha struck the final pose without breaking a sweat—completely opposite of you: collapsed against the front of the couch, still fighting your demons after an exhausting four minutes.
the outro of the song, despite having faded away for a few moments, echoed in your head like a haunting wail. your t-shirt was disgustingly drenched in sweat, and you might've passed out if not for the glass of pity-water handed to you by the outdo-er.
"i'm pooped," you groaned, covering your eyes with your arm. kazuha giggled and took a seat next to you, ruffling your already unkempt hair with a free hand. her other hand was holding a glass of water for herself.
"that couldn't have been worse than coach kang's laps. you play center, yet queen rihanna gets you sweating more than a game against our rival school."
"leave me alone," you whined, dragging out the 'e' at the end. "i just got fought with a baby cheetah."
kazuha made a teasing 'oooh' sound, wiggling her eyebrows and making you push her by the shoulder. "you even have a nickname for her?"
"piss off, nakamura," you pinched your the bridge of your nose, "but seriously, that shit drained me. both disturbia and kim chaewon. i just don't understand why she started doing the opposite of what she used to."
"hmm."
"i mean, the look on her face at some point—it was different, unreadable. i couldn't tell what she was feeling. she said i couldn't be grateful for her nice behavior, but is it really my fault? am i the asshole here? ...hey, are you listening?" you blew a strand of hair out of your face, turning to look at kazuha who was rubbing her chin like some sort of psychic.
she scrunched up her eyebrows and cracked her knuckles, hesitating before clearing her throat. "you probably won't believe me, but..."
"but what?" you wrapped your arms around your knees, bringing them closer so you could rest your chin on them.
the other girl sighed and stretched her legs out. "okay, wait. when did this start?"
"after i told her i was planning on switching dorms... wait."
that's right. chaewon had started acting strange the day after she barged into your room, but you had only started noticing two days after, coming home from the gym and needing something you had left in the bathroom.
(the shorter girl came out immediately after you knocked and requested for her to hurry it up. you were faced with a chaewon with her hair still dripping wet and a baby blue bathrobe wrapped around her torso, bringing an involuntary blush to your cheeks. to your surprise, she merely nodded at you and walked into her room without a word.)
"was she trying to make amends...? or convince me to stay?"
"you might want to ask her yourself, y/n."
and as if on cue, your phone buzzed several times in succession. blindly reaching for the device on top of the couch, you squinted through the bright wallpaper to see over 20 notifications from your roommate.
'31 missed calls and 50+ unread messages from kim chaewon.'
you frantically grabbed your keys and scrambled to your feet, ignoring the soreness in your muscles from the earlier dancing session. it was damn near midnight. kazuha stood up to open the door for you, and you thanked her and left in a rush.
you had to go home.
but by the time the adrenaline rush wore off and you'd let yourself into the dorm, your legs had given out and you passed out against the door.
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falling, falling, falling.
there were cats falling with you, into the void. there was no start, and thus there was no end. you were only able to look up, seeing countless cats coming out of nowhere and not making a sound.
while you loved cats, there was no reason they should be falling into, well, nothing. then you saw a figure diving towards you with their hand out. you instinctively reached out for them, their face slowly getting clearer as they inched closer.
your hands met. they locked their fingers with yours, and slowly pulled you up with them. there seemed to have been a portal opened up at the "start".
the figure brought you to the portal, making the two of you float just below it. they leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, and flashed a smile.
and just for a moment, they donned the appearance of your darling roommate.
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it smelled like coffee.
you didn't remember moving to the couch. your blanket was draped over you and the stupid pinkie pie plush was tucked in with you, and your muscles were extremely sore.
remnants of the night prior flashed in your mind, and you rubbed your eyes. what happened?
chaewon walked to the door, slipping her sneakers on and leaning over the couch to peek at you. not realizing you were awake, she jumped back with a yelp.
"i... i made you coffee and some pancakes for you. they're on the, um. counter. bye—"
you desperately stopped her by the wrist, half-kneeling on the couch. "thank you, can we talk? when you get back?"
the shorter girl had a look of uncertainty in her eyes, but ultimately nodded. the door shut quietly behind her, leaving you alone in the dorm.
reluctantly, you stepped off the couch to go check the breakfast she made you. the faint aroma of the sweets intensified as you got closer to the kitchen, bringing your mood down.
the plate was covered by a paper towel, and on top of it had a hello kitty themed sticky note.
"y/n,
i'm sorry for yesterday. i want to talk later, if that's ok. also, the butter is in the top left of the fridge and i left the maple syrup on the counter.
- chaewon"
you chuckled, releasing a breath you didn't know you were holding in.
this wasn't what you were expecting to wake up to.
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you sat across from chaewon at the dining table, both of you waiting for the other to start. you had woken up just before noon, went to the one class that you had today and returned to the dorms after grabbing a few snacks from the convenience store. chaewon hadn't come home until around four, so you took it upon yourself to study in the meantime.
the jasmine tea that you poured for the two of you was steaming hot, releasing clouds of translucency up into the hanging ceiling light above.
"i'm—"
"so—"
you cleared your throat, gesturing towards your roommate as a sign for her to continue. she traced the rim of the ceramic and bit her lip.
"i'm sorry," she started, "i know my behavior as of recently is conflicting."
"it is," you frowned, "but continue."
chaewon lifted the teacup to her lips, sipping slowly. the clink of the coaster resounded throughout the entire dorm. "we've fought for as long as i remember. and we became roommates, and we fell into a routine. it's normal for us to be petty."
it was normal for you to be petty with chaewon. it was like breathing air, drinking water. no matter where you were, as long as she was there then you would hate each other to the ends of the earth.
"when you... suggested a change in that routine, i panicked. i didn't want to get rid of what was normal."
it was a more than a few months into the year. what you and chaewon had built was unmistakably a routine. one that was part of your everyday life, but one that you could not see yourself without. it didn't start at the beginning of the year, but on the day that you had beaten her in a race.
the look on her face was one you couldn't forget. eight-year-old chaewon looked close to tears before she ran away and stole your juicebox the next day. and it transformed into something else, and something more, and whatever was going on now.
you took a moment to appreciate the floral scent of the tea and sipped from your own cup. "i'm sorry too."
"even though it's kind of our brand, i shouldn't have blown up at you like that. i mean," you sighed, "you were going out of your way to be nice.
chaewon took another sip. meeting your eyes with a softened gaze. "so i guess this means truce?"
you smiled. "truce. but i am curious..."
"about what?"
"i know that wasn't the only reason you didn't want me to switch dorms. tell me the other reason."
the girl gulped, averting her eyes. her mind trailed back to a conversation she had just earlier, during a meal she had with sakura in between classes.
("well, she has a point. why don't you want to switch? you know i wouldn't mind, rooming with jennifer sucks," the older girl stated, lifting a few strands of ramen noodles with her chopsticks.
chaewon frowned, taking a bite of a small piece of karaage. she had finished her own bowl of ramen a few seconds ago. "you call her jennifer now? also, i don't know. i just feel bad for what i did, even though it was mutual. i didn't want to lose that familiarity."
"and?"
"and, it's because she's been a part of my life since forever, whether i like it or not."
sakura huffed, slurping up the last of her ramen and setting her chopsticks on top of the bowl. "uh huh. but that doesn't explain why you spent thirty minutes trying to carry her to the couch, brought the one blanket that you don't let anyone touch, not even me or eunchae when she comes over."
"and on top of that, you tucked her in with a my little pony plushie. and then proceeded to make breakfast and coffee for her, without making any for yourself. that's why you're making me pay for your ramen."
the younger girl was taken aback, rendered speechless. she knew what she did, but hearing it out of someone else's mouth was humbling.
the japanese crossed her legs and clasped her fingers together. "you know what you haven't realized, but almost everyone else has?"
"what?")
"i'm in love with you."
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you yawned, taking a sip of coffee and stepping out from the kitchenette in your shared dorm with yunjin. the blonde was sitting on the couch with her notebook in hand, probably thinking of lyrics for her next song. after performing at a local festival, you and a few others urged her to continue her music career, and now she was taking the advice seriously.
she seemed to have noticed your presence, turning around and grinning. "hey. your girlfriend's waiting for you outside. are you going out again today?"
you coughed, "chaewon is not my girlfriend! and yeah, i'm taking her to that nice restaurant by the beach, the one that our team went to last time."
"she's not your girlfriend as of right now. how long are you going to make her wait?" yunjin stood up, walking you to the entryway and tossing you your keys, which you caught and tucked into the pocket of your basketball shorts. it was almost summer, only the beginning of june, but it was already impossibly hot.
checking your other pocket for your wallet, you slipped on your sneakers. "i don't know. maybe until the end of today. or maybe next month."
the taller girl sighed, glancing at you worriedly. "maybe you just need a day to reflect on yourself."
you reached for the doorknob. "maybe."
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a/n : this is an apology for scrapping the other chaewon fic i had 😁 also crazy drops soon and the chorus has been stuck in my head??
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