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#so dunno what that says bout me
raventhekittycat · 1 year
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I recently got a bookstore gift card for graduation, and I was wondering if anyone had any good fantasy recommendations? I tend to like stuff by authors such as Tamora Pierce, Naomi Novik, Trudi Canavan, Shannon Hale, but I've also enjoyed some Madeline L'Engle (I know she's more SF than fantasy) and Dianne Wynn Jones. I also recently read a book by Foz Meadows, who's title escapes me now, that I also enjoyed. I'll take recommendations in other genres as well, but fantasy tends to be my favorite, and I'd love to get a new book or author to dive into!
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waifujuju · 1 year
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Juju! I hereby demand that you must info dump about the OC's that are currently taking up the majority of your daydreams!
Oh shit I guess I better infodump then!! I don't have any real coherent things to list so have some random info and doodles sdifjwioj
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The reason Lune's hair floats is that they use magic to get it out of their face! They like the swish of it (I've never animated it but it's supposed to flow and ripple like water). And they cast a spell every day to get it the way they like even tho other moon spirits (including their childhood friend) may think it's a waste of effort
Sol also uses his own vanity magic! The second he wakes up he forms his crown of light and keeps it throughout the day, even though it's a bit of a strain without his voice to keep the spell going. He also likes to look prim and princely (and has like a 20-step morning routine), but doesn't bother with his hair since it's a lost cause, much to his chagrin
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When I was at the height of my Pokemon fixation (which is still going strong), I decided Lune should have a Jirachi and Sol should have a shiny Larvesta (as this was back when I thought Larvesta/Volcarona were minor legendaries and now they're normal pokemon sdoifjwo). They would also have a Solrock and Lunatone of course!!
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A friendo once asked for corrupted Lune and who am I to disagree. They would unfortunately ditch their usual cosmos cloak (which they made with their mom's help) and instead have a coat of sunlight
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Other random info includes that Lune has never seen the eye Sol covers with his hair and doesn't know if he even has one under there. Sol got the scratch through his eyebrow when he fell as a clumsy kid but likes to lie and say he got it in battle so Lune thinks he's cool. And Lune's favorite food is juice but they get embarrassed that it's childish so they don't mention it (Sol knows the truth tho)
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cantdanceflynn · 9 months
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OBVIOUS NOTE OF "GUYS I HAVE THE MEDIA LITERACY NEEDED TO UNDERSTAND WHAT IS AND ISNT A PIECE OF MEDIA ADVOCATING FOR A BAD THING AND I KNOW WHAT BAD WRITING AND PACING IS" BUT LIKE. *JAZZ HANDS* THIS IS GONNA BE ON MY OWN TIME AND SHIT N READ THE REST OF THE POST AND BLOCK ME IF NEED BE BUT IM GONNA BE AT SOME POINT WATCHING THE H*LLAVERSE AND D*MP(CENSORED TO LEAVE THIS OUT OF SEARCHES SORRY)
ALSO IM MAKING THIS CLEAR BC IK IVE BEEN VAGUE ABOUT IT BEFORE AND I DONT WANT ANY EXTRA HARASSMENT OR FOR ANYONE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT TO TAKE ISSUES. UH BC IVE BEEN ON THE FENCE BOUT IT IM JUST MAKING THE CHOICE NOW. NO MORE DOUBLE GUESSING STUFF I WANT TO WATCH FEHFBSFBSSFB IF ITS BAD ITS BAD AND ILL PIRATE IT ANYWAYS AND IF IT DOESNT DESERVE ANY ATTENTION IT SURE AS HELL WONT GET IT FROM ME BUT I FIGURE THIS IS JUST. A BETTER CHOICE FOR ME TO STOP GUILTING MYSELF WHICH HAS JUST BEEN A HORRIBLE THING WHENEVER I SEE ANYTHING I WANT TO AT LEAST CHECK OUT AND IM SICK AND TIRED OF PUTTING SOME PEOPLE IVE TALKED TO TWICE OVER MY OWN HEALTH IN THE WEIRD ASS GUILT TRAUMA SPIRALS I KEEP FORCING MYSELF INTO
SO THIS IS PROBABLY THE ONLY POST ON THIS TOPIC IM MAKING BC IVE BEEN SO BACK AND FORTH BETWEEN "MAN THIS IS GREAT FOR ME" AND "OH GOD THE TRAUMA" LOL
BASICALLY THIS HAS BEEN A LONG TIME COMING AND MAYBE THISLL BE LIKE THE HORROR THING WHERE I RLY LIKE IT AND I TRY TO HOLD BACK BOUT IT BUT END UP OBSESSED BUT MORE LIKELY THAN NOT THIS IS JUST GONNA BE A HEADSUP FOR ANYONE UNCOMFORTABLE W LIKE THE TWO BIGGEST TARGETS FOR "IRREDEEMABLE MEDIA" BC ITS LIKE. VERY FAIR TO BE UNCOMFORTABLE W EM AND I DONT BLAME U AT ALL SO I WANT TO MAKE SURE UR WARNED
REPETITIVE POST IK AND IF YOU ARE LIKE. MY FRIEND FRIEND AND YOU DONT WANT ME TO LET ME KNOW AND IF I RB ANYTHING IT WILL BE TAGGED AND EVERY SINGLE DISCLAIMER I JUST. WANT TO MAKE SURE PEOPLE KNOW AND IM CLEAR ABOUT THIS FOR EVERYONES SAFETY, EVEN IF ITS SOMETHING SMALL LIKE THIS. MY APOLOGIES AGAIN, SERIOUSLY IF YOU ARE LIKE. A FRIEND FRIEND I WILL TAKE UR OPINION ON THIS DW
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shotmrmiller · 7 months
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retired pornstar!Ghost who can't seem to ever keep his hands to himself whenever you're around, even when about to film.
f!reader, 18+ smut. unedited.
If you're standing at a table making coffee, he'll sneak up from behind and wrap his arms around you, his chin resting on the crown of your head.
Hi, Ghost.
G'mornin', love.
If you're walking out of Price's office with a script in hand, he's by your side in mere moments, throwing an arm over your shoulder.
"New script?"
"You should know, you're my co-star. Again."
"Lucky me, pet."
He's leading you toward his office, perches you on his desk and cups his hand over your core.
"Gonna let me eat this pretty pussy?"
"I dunno, Ghost. Gonna fuck me here too?" you smirk at him.
"Whatever you want from me," he breathes.
You stumble out hours later with swollen lips, love bites mottled over your neck and collarbone, and his warm spend trickling down your legs because Ghost pocketed your knickers.
The day of, he's texting you if you'd like a ride to the studio.
Sure thing. Get me in 15.
Yes ma'am.
He doesn't ask for your address, and you don't question why he knows where you live either. Ghost, forever the gentleman, opens the passenger door for you, and gently helps you get in. The entire drive over, his hand rested on your bare thigh, his small finger occasionally grazing your clothed cunt. By the time you arrive, your knickers are damp with your arousal.
"Somethin' wrong, love?"
You snort at his feigned innocence. "Cute. Is mercilessly teasing me fun to you?"
"Sorry 'bout tha.'" Ghost doesn't sound all that apologetic.
He brings you in tight, wrapping his arm around you firmly.
"Lemme make it up t'you in my dressin' room", he purrs.
You click your tongue. "Price'll have your head if he catches me in there, especially when we're about to make a vid."
"Be sure to keep quiet, then. Would absolutely hate to get caught."
With his smart fingers and expert tongue, you're brought to peak 3 times.
Price rolls his eyes when he spots you both walking in at the same time 15 minutes before the shoot.
"Always cheek by jowl, eh Simon?"
His piercing eyes cut to Price's. "Not a crime, last I checked."
Price lifts his hands up, palms outward in mock surrender. "Easy, Ghost. Only teasin'." He turns away, gesturing the crew to get in their places.
Ghost taps your chin with his pointer finger, drawing your attention. "Showtime, baby."
The wolfish grin on your face mirrors his.
"Showtime," you echo.
Ghost turns sex into art. He moves with discipline; every languid roll of his hips deliberate. Like a skilled painter, he transformed you into a living masterpiece, using each drag of his cock as a brush stroke on the canvas of your very being.
It's otherworldly.
He watches your face intently as he changes the angle, bites his bottom lip when he changes the pace, grunting into your ear as your walls begin to flutter— the telltale sign of 'his favorite part', as he loves to say.
"Gonna come f'me? Lemme hear that sweet, little voice of yours, pet." Almost as if following his command, you're digging your nails into his biceps, and closing your eyes in bliss as you climax. A loud, drawn-out moan escapes your lips as your cunt rhythmically pulses around Ghost's heavy length. Your soft thighs quiver around his broad waist as he works you through the aftershocks with slow, firm thrusts.
"Look at tha'. Came when I told ya to, like a good girl." Your mind is blank from your orgasm, tongue too heavy and thick in your mouth for you to even try to articulate a response.
"Creamed all over my cock, can ya hear it?" Hard not to when the wet sounds of your pussy squelching every time he bottoms out fills the room.
"You're so fuckin' tight. Cunt's squeezin' me like it doesn't want me to pull out."
His filthy words send a jolt straight to your throbbing core. "Felt tha'. What, you got a breedin' kink?"
Another jolt, so sharp it almost hurts.
"Want me to fill ya with my come? Is tha' it?" His husky voice dripping with desire. With want.
yes. yesyesyessss—
"Tell me you want me. Fuck, tell me you want me to come in you." The words fall from your spit-slick lips like a faucet.
"Come in me, oh my god, come in me. Fill my pussy up."
His thrusts lose some of their rhythm, but still not sloppy enough like when he's on the very brink.
Ghost's jaw in clenched, as if digging his heels in to hold off his climax. Well, that's simply unacceptable.
Your fingers tangle into his hair, giving him a slight tug to have his lips hover over yours.
"I want you come in me, Simon."
The change is instantaneous. His eyes widen a fraction before stealing your very breath with a searing kiss and fucks you. He puts his weight behind each snap of his hips. The tip of his cock pressing into the plug of your womb, making your eyes prickle with tears.
It's too much, he's too much, you think you've gone and bitten off more than you can chew with him when he mercifully stills with a groan you swallow— cock twitching as it pains your insides white.
He breaks away, gasping for air, sweat that beaded on his forehead dripping onto your heated skin.
Cut.
DaVinci and his muse.
Later, when he threads his fingers into your damp hair, you ask him why he doesn't record with others.
"'Cause I don't want to."
Oh?
"Besides, you and I have fantastic chemistry, dont'cha think?" He tugs on a lock of hair. "The fans love seeing us together, just as much as I love seeing my cock disappear into your sweet pussy."
He chuckles when he takes in your flustered expression. "Don't ask questions you aren't prepared to hear, then."
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gibbearish · 11 months
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80 years already feels short as hell but it also feels long as hell yknow. whereas if i instead say 29,200 doesnt that feel so much shorter
#ignore me am in a depression bout doing math to make myself feel worse#something about how life is exhausting cause like say i live 80 years total i still have abt 60 yrs to go which is abt 22000 days#which means i have to take 11000 showers and brush my teeth 44000 times and buy groceries 3143 times#and doctors appointments and get a job and pay rent and pay phone bill and pay credit card bill and pay and pay and pay#and clean the litterboxes and clean the bathroom and feed the cats and feed the lizard and clean your room and do laundry#and fold laundry and put away laundry and hang up laundry and get dressed and do laundry again and again and again#its EXHAUSTING#and i have suicidal thoughts repellant aka a severe phobia of death and the afterlife or lack thereof#which sounds great and is certainly helpful however it also induces a certain level of hopelessness#cuz no matter how shit i feel theres no way off this ride for me. i just have to keep goinf#the way i explain it to myself is like. i feel like im limping towards a finish line so i can collapse the second i cross it except#there is no finish line‚ the race is just life and it doesnt matter if i dont have the energy to keep going because#not keeping going just isn't an option#i have no energy. im so tired. n i dunno whats gonna happen when i run out of money but am still out of energy#i suppose i go back to overdrawing the tank again probably n just. hope the drain isnt so fast this time and i#can get to a rest point sooner#one way or another i continue#whether thats a pessimistic or optimistic statement is up to you
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hxzbinwrites · 8 months
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Hi! I just saw that requests are open, yeah!! I'd like to request an Alastor x fem!Reader where Vox has a crush on her so he sends her a set of different tea flavor as a gift. The problem is that these contain a drug that inhibits the person (thanks, Valentino). Basically, his plan was to wait for her to drink the tea and then show up at the hotel and seduce her so he could have her for himself (my boy thinks she loves him, lol). The problem is that she had graciously offered the tea to Alastor, who drinks it. Vox asks her if she enjoyed the tea she lies saying it was delicious so he immediately shows up at the hotel but ends up finding Alastor who is being super affectionate with her, revealing his true feelings for her. Eventually Alastor attacks Vox as soon as he sees him forcing the other to flee. Fluff and comedy, basically. xD
Alastor x Fem! Reader x Vox | Tea Time Troubles
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Warnings ⚠️:  Cussing, drugs, controlling and manipulative Vox, out of character Alastor.
"I dunno 'bout this Voxxy" Valentino said, handing him a baggie of the drug, a weak aphrodisiac lining the walls of the bag.
"Don't worry about me Valentino, I'll be fine" Vox reassured him, holding the bag up to his screened face. He smirked deviously as he put his hands behind his back.
"But you tell me all the time 'bout 'public image' and all that shit." Valentino retorted, crossing his lower arms against his stomach.
"Don't you worry your pretty little face about it Honey" Vox sneered, rubbing his cheek in a falsely affectionate way. "Vox is a big boy and can handle himself. I just gotta put this into some tea bags. (Y/n) WILL be MINE."
"Ugh" The moth groaned, taking a puff of his cigar,"She's not even worth it. She hangs out with radio, fossil trash. If she was good shed know who to choose. Besides, I'm better than she is, right?"
"You're wrong." Vox said, his left eye radiating hypnotizing waves out of anger,"(Y/n) is perfect. She's everything, and she will be mine."
Vox's demonic laughter could be heard across the building, sending chills down anyone who heard it's spine.
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"Honey!!" (Y/n) exclaimed, holding up the box of tea that arrived at their house,"Your tea shipment came!"
Alastor, who was reading the paper at the kitchen table, looked over to see his dear (Y/n) carrying two large cardboard boxes.
He teleported over, making his shadows place them atop of the counter. His keen eyes narrowed at the second box, seemingly almost identical to the first one.
"How peculiar!" Alastor said, tapping his cane on the second box, almost poking it as if it was a foreign object.
"What's peculiar about it?" The fellow deer demon asked, peering over at the box her partner was so intrigued by.
"I did not order two shipments of tea from the catalogue this month!" He replied, his smile tightening in irritation. Could someone be trying to plant something in this hotel? Trying to hurt any of his friends, his beloved, or him?
"Maybe it's a promo box?" (Y/n) suggested,"I mean, you are a loyal customer of theirs. Maybe they want you to try a new product, I hear that's the new rage."
"Ah" Alastor replied, walking closer to the counter to rip open the second box to be met with a letter and a large box of tea.
"Thank you for your loyalty Mr. Alastor. We're reaching out to our most loyal customers to give this Promo box to! We're asking that you try our newest flavor, a (your favorite flavor) but with a twist! Despite the erratic sounds at night in Hell, this tea should help you fall right asleep! If you enjoy it, please promote so on your beloved Radio Show!"
"I was right!" The doe said, looking up at her partner,"They must've given it to you because they know you're famous and can promote their tea! Very smart people, I wanna try one tomorrow!"
"Tomorrow? Why not today my doe?" Alastor said, looking down at his partner.
"My stomach isn't feeling the best. Charlie's cake wasn't fully cooked through, but I didn't want to be rude and not eat it. Especially because no one else was!"
Alastor chuckled, petting her sensitive ears. "Now now (Y/n), you should've listened to me! I know all!"
"Al..." She said, batting her eyes up at him,"Do you mind trying it for me? I wanna know if it's good, but I don't want to throw up in my sleep!"
"Why should I?" He inquired, smirking down at (Y/n). "It seems like this predicament could've been easily avoided my little doe! Hahaha!"
"Please" She softly asked, smiling at him back.
"I suppose I can try one cup of it." He said, sitting down at the table, fully expecting (Y/n) to make him the cup as he finished reading his paper.
She giggled at him and began to start the kettle. Moments like these can't be replaced, a docile and homey moment between the two of them. (Y/n) loved seeing this side of him. The Alastor side of him, not the Radio Demon.
(Y/n) opened the smaller box that was enclosed in the large one, picking out the first tea bag. She smelled the bag, the fumes of blended herbs wafting in her nostrils. It smelled lovely, she would've to drink one alongside Alastor.
But she held back on picking up another bag, knowing its sleeping effects. (Y/n) really didn't want to throw up while in her sleep, and potentially on Alastor, who would be as knocked out as her.
Sighing, she finished preparing the tea, pouring it in Alastor's favorite teacups, the one (Y/n) gifted him on their second anniversary many years ago.
She walked back over to him, placing the teacup on his saucer, putting the sugar cube in as well.
"Thank you dearest" Alastor said, his eyes skimming over the newspaper,"I shall be in our room in a moment, why don't you go ahead and get in your nightwear?"
"Alrighty" (Y/n) replied, patting the back of Alastor's chair. That was something the two of them did, (Y/n) knew when to touch Alastor and when to not. Still wanting to show him affection, she'll pat an object close to him.
Alastor gave her a soft smile before returning his focus to the newspaper.
The doe walked up the stairs in the hotel to their shared room. She got in her fluffy pajamas, completed each and every step to her skincare routine, and crawled into bed with a book.
The silence was only broken by the occasional turn of a page, this was (Y/n)‘s daily quiet time, as Alastor liked to read the paper before turning in for the night.
This normally is for about an hour, but tonight it was a mere 30 minutes as the door busted open.
The doe yelped, her skittish nature causing her to flinch at the sudden jolt of noise. Her partner flittered into the room before crawling on top of her, his eyes droopy from the affect.
“Hi sugar” He said, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His ears were pressed against his head as he affectionately nuzzled (Y/n). Alastor grabbed her waist and flipped her on top of him, allowing him to bring her closer to his body, her chest atop of his.
“Al-Alastor?!” (Y/n) exclaimed, tensing up. What has gotten into him!? He’s not one to ever make such…bold advances.
“Oh my love” He said, a dreamy lilt in his voice,”you’re just perfection incarnate. Such a lovely little fawn you are.”
Blushing heavily, she let him rest himself on her, snuggling contently. It was rather peaceful, she did not know where this sudden chance of behavior came from, but it certainly wasn’t the worst by far.
(Y/n)’s ears perked up hearing a notification sound ding from her phone. She slowly grabbed it to check what it was.
Alastor was not very keen on allowing this sort of technology in the house, especially knowing Vox is over all of it. So they made a compromise, he’d take out the camera and microphone and she could have the phone.
Seeing it was a message from Vox, she opened it.
Vox: “Hey sweetheart, I pulled a few strings and got a shipment of some new tea of (your favorite flavor) that was being tested. How did you like it baby?”
(Y/n): Oh, it was good, thanks!
Vox: Just good? You sure sweet stuff? Wasn’t it so good you could just kiss the lips off of the person who got it for you?
(Y/n) sighed, shutting her phone off and curling up with her lover.
“I think that’s a yes!” Vox said, throwing his hands in the air ceremoniously. He quickly put on his best bow tie, in hopes it would get taken off by fingers other than his, and made his way towards the Hazbin Hotel.
————
Vox searched through each room until he found the one you and Alastor shared.
He scowled at the door, seeing a heart with the initials scribed on it “(Y/i) + A”
Pathetic. He could give you so much more than that. He could give you the most advanced technological sign known to mankind just for some silly initials, not some shitty hard with nearly illegible handwriting.
He opened the door, his signature smirk dropping as he saw Alastor, his arch nemesis (in Vox’s eyes) peppering small little kisses all over (Y/n)‘s face, making her giggle.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Vox yelled, his face was blue-screening.
Alastor took one look at the fellow Overlord and let out a long string of laughter, sitting up as he pulled (Y/n) into his lap.
“Vox?! What are you doing here?!”
“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONE TO DRINK THE TEA!! AND THEN YOU’D BE MINE!!”
Alastor hooked a arm around (Y/n)‘s waist, looking at his opponent across the room.
“This is my doe, my love, and we all know if she would’ve drank the tea, she would’ve always chosen me.”
Lets just say, the power around the Pride Ring went out after that comment.
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Word Count 1,524
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princessfroslass · 2 months
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The way I am obssesed with Angel's relationship with the girls- and no, I don't mean it on a token gay guy on the gals group™ but rather how he seems to have this- older brother ish sense to him when he is with them.
He is the one that mocks Vaggie even on her lowest point but he was also the one to rush to her side when Charlie and Alastor left- no to mention he was the one leading the other guys to prepare the hotel later on.
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He is the one the keep Nifty safe- even though he is extremely weirded out by her antics, and even didn't react with aggression when she was a bout to stab him (that shit wouldn't had flied with any character I tell you lmao) also LOOK HOW CUTE THEY ARE-
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He is the one that protected Charlie from HIS abuser, shielding him from his world from day one- and overall just making sure she stayed safe, and away from Val.
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And then there is Cherrie- his ride or die he trusts above anyone else. She is the one he rants to about his horrible day at the studio (which is bad enough to make her RUN to the Hotel after 5 months btw, so who knows what the hell was on those textes) tho I am inclined she is the older sibling at the relationship. I dunno she just has that vibe. She protects him alot more than he does her (that is not to say he doesn't protect her- he literally pushed her away from Pen's invention at the Pilot) and I like that, is a little change or dynamic with his other relationships.
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I normally don't like to call a platonic relationship "sibling coded" unless is VERY explicitly implied that is the case, but honestly- with Angel I am willing to do an exception, because of this:
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Is not far fetched to think Angel might had projected Molly onto his female friends- SPECIALLY Charlie, who was often draw with her on older sketches. Their dad was abusive, their relationship with their brother non-existent (this actually intrigues me alot because I can see Niss having beef with Angel but the fuck did Molly do?) and the mom isn't mentioned yet, so I am willing to think all they had was each other- flash forward to now, with Angel separated from his beloved sister, trapped onto an soul contract with his abusive ex, and meeting a bunch of girls that had reediming qualities- my guy had issues ok let him be.
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pwinkprincess · 4 months
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hai! your toji fics are SO SO good! i was wondering if you could write toji with a size and/or corruption kink and shy reader? like she covers up her face and can barely make eye contact without blushing
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/ᐠ. 。.ᐟ\ ˎˊ˗ theyre roleplayin toji bein her dads bsf ! jus wanna add that so it makes sense ^_^
you felt so so dirty. especially with a guy that’s years older than you having his rough hands wrapped around your neck while his cock bullies its way inside your dripping pussy. everything felt so deliciously wrong. he’s so strong, he’s easily pushing your body deeper into the couch cushions while he practically lays on top of you and pounds your pussy. the couch shuffles and creaks with every movement, and for a brief moment you wonder if it’s going to break. 
you let out a loud moan when he hits a spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. you wish you could hold him, grab him, something一anything. your movement is limited due to him having both of your wrists pinned to your back. he only uses one hand to keep your limbs restricted, a subtle reminder of how much bigger he is than you.
“t-toji! t-this is so nasty! ah!” you dramatically kick your feet against the couch. you pretend to put up a fight, trying your ‘best’ to scramble away.
“i see the way ya’ look at me when he’s not lookin’.” toji chuckles in your ear. the tip of his tongue darts out to trace the outline of your ear. your body shivers under his, your stomach’s clenching and you can’t help but to swallow your spit roughly. “‘s okay. ‘mma give it t’you.” he continues his teasing while plummeting into you.
you can only whine at his words. you feel so small under his muscular body, and with him restricting you, the feeling grows tenfold. his hips smack against the fat of your ass while his thick dick throbs inside of your sensitive walls. 
you push your own face into the cushions. everything felt so overwhelming. he’s the biggest you’ve had, ever. and for someone so strong and big to be on top of you dominating and degrading every inch of your body felt good.
“nooo, sir. d-dunno what you’re t-talkin’ ‘bout.” your words are muffled and slurred. toji can barely hear you from the sound of your skin slapping together.
he frowns to himself before he’s suddenly sliding his lubed dick from inside your dripping pussy. you’re quick to look back at him with a pout on your lips. usually, you would’ve been grateful for the small break toji provided but it was just getting good.
“tojiiii.” you drag his name. “f-felt so good. why-why'd you stop?” you say while sitting up from your previous position. you're embarrassed to admit that him even though he's your source of pleasure.
“can’t fuckin一”he cuts himself off by sighing. he runs his fingers through the strands of hair that stuck to his forehead from sweat. he looks down at you, you’re sitting so pretty and pliant with that adorable pout on your glossy lips. “stand up.” he tells you.
with a curious glance thrown his way, you stand up. “what are you doi一eek!” you squeal when he suddenly grabs you. he turns your back to his chest, and with a forceful hand, he presses down on your mid back, forcing an arch into your back. you can barely breathe when he slips his cock back inside you. he grabs your arms and pin them behind your back, you feel absolutely dizzy from how fast he switched positions.
“feel good?” he asks while slowly rocking his hips into you.
“mhmm!” you hum. your hum grows louder as he takes your confirmation as approval to speed up his movements. you grow more vocal as he pounds into your pussy, your body shakes with how hard he connects with you. all you can think about is how full you are.
he uses your pinned arms as leverage to make sure you don’t fall forward. “shit.” he mumbles to himself. the new position has him digging deeper into your walls, he’s so deep that it almost hurts.
you’re not sure if you’re moaning or screaming, maybe even both. your brain is officially jumbled as he fucks into you like he hates you.
“yeah, cum for me, girl. hurry before your daddy comes back.” he slaps your ass a few times as his voice drops.
 you can only let out something incoherent as you try to focus on taking his rough thrusts, and breathing.
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bi-writes · 9 months
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bestfriend!roommate!simon helps you get dressed for a night out because i love when men kneel
cw: nsfw content (18+), suggestive language and content, mature language and content, kisses through the mask, size kink, praise kink, a little oral (fem!receiving), a little suggestive touching (fem!receiving), simon likes thicc thighs, simon "my girl doesnt lift a finger because i worship her" riley
more bestfriend!roommate!simon
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you haven't gone out in a long time. you were stuck working overnight shifts at the diner for extra money, busy every time you got a friendly text or a sweet call asking if you'd like to join your friends.
you hadn't told simon yet. you hadn't told him you were leaving tonight, but more worriedly, you hadn't told him you were struggling paying the bills. you scraped by the edges of your teeth last month to give him your half, and you remember looking at the cash in your wallet afterwards and wanting to vomit.
it was embarrassing. the landlord just kept urging you both for more, and while simon was always able to negotiate the raise every few months (one look at simon, and he always lowered his number), you were finding it difficult to keep up.
simon was successful. he was a decorated lieutenant, and he had many powerful friends. he never indulged in showing off his wealth; he wasn't raised with money, neither were you, and it was more than he knew what to do with. you remembered walking past him one night as he paid off a credit card on his laptop. you gagged when you saw the number in his account, the commas in the number.
why the fuck was in this piece of shit place with you when he could buy a house on a pebbled beach somewhere?
the dress was not cooperating. it had many straps that came in at the back, and they were twisted and crooked, looped around the corset back and making you a little frustrated. you sighed deeply before making your way across the hall, knocking gently on the bedroom across from you.
"simon?" there was no answer. "simon, i...could you help me for a second?"
the door opened a few moments later. a surgical mask was fit over his nose and mouth, a beanie over his head to cover the rest of him. you turned around in front of him, looking over your shoulder.
"i need help. it's all a mess, i can feel it."
his dark eyes flickered down to the back of your dress. the skin of your back was bare. you weren't wearing a bra underneath. you help up the front of the dress with both of your hands, cupping your breasts to keep it situated as simon finally reached over and began to unravel the laces of the corset.
"you goin' out?"
you nodded, rocking to the side a bit as he tugged the edges of the laces loose and began to tighten up the back of the corset. you held onto your stomach as the fabric of it began to shape the curve of your waist.
"yeah, just with some of the girls. they've been dying to go out, but i've just been working so much..."
"hmmm," he grunted in agreement. "'v hardly seen your face around here."
you sighed as he straightened out the straps, tying off the end of the corset with a tight bow at the bottom. you turned around to face him, and simon had to bite back the curse threatening to leave at the sight of you. the skin along your chest looked so soft, plump to the touch. he wanted to lean down and lick over the curve of your breasts right there, feel it bounce back with a hard kiss, watch your nipples harden if he blew on the sensitive contours of your neck.
"sorry...work has been...really busy."
"dunno 'bout that, luv. i know you're pickin' up shifts. i can hear you on the phone, asking to come in."
there was something more in that comment, something more he wanted to say lingering in the air. you frowned a little, meeting his eyes.
"im just trying to make extra money, simon, thats all."
he leaned in a little closer.
"if you need help--"
"no," you said immediately, shaking your head. "i know what you're going to say. i don't need your...i'm fine."
simon lowered his head slightly. for a moment, just one fleeting moment, you suddenly understand perhaps why men cowered on the battlefield. there was something dull and lifeless swirling there in his eyes. he was so much larger than you, big enough that he could probably wrap his whole hand around your neck and squeeze, and the life would leave you easy--and somehow you knew, those eyes wouldn't change, even knowing they would have taken the light from your own.
you knew, suddenly, that you were face to face with somebody else. a beast with a quiet name, a killer that rarely made a sound, the last whisper that one might ever hear.
you had angered simon, and his protector had come.
"you're lyin'."
"simon--"
"you're lyin' to me, sweetheart. where are your fuckin' manners?"
"i'm not one of your fucking soliders, simon. you can't give me orders," you snapped. you moved past him, hitting his shoulder with your own and going back into your room. you picked up your heels, taking a seat on your bed as you furiously slipped them on. your shadow followed, coming into your room and standing before you.
"how many times? how many times have i asked if everything is straight?"
you ignored him, continuing to slip your shoes on. of course, the ones you had picked out for tonight had straps that needed to be tied up your ankle.
"so i'm going to ask you again, luv, and you're gonna answer me well. do you need my bloody help?"
you let go of the ribbons of your shoes, letting them fall. you put your hands into your lap, your eyes on your crudely painted nails and skin of your knees and the way the shadow at your front began to come closer.
you swallowed hard when he knelt down at your feet. you watched with soft eyes as he picked up your foot gently by the ankle, resting it on his thigh. his gloved hands picked up the silk ribbons, beginning to cross them over your ankle. he straightened out the creases and made sure not to tie them twisted, being careful to make the ribbons look presentable.
when he finished tying the bow on one foot, he brought your ankle up, pressing the mouth of his mask to the silk of it and letting it fall. he picked up your other foot just as tenderly and with the precision of a sniper, he tied your ribbons and pressed a kiss to the silk.
with both your feet on the ground, and simon on his knees seemingly not going anywhere, you reached forward and slipped a hand under the hood, caressing one side of his face.
your palm was warm, fitting into the curve of his cheek. the fabric of his mask was soft as always, black cotton that shielded his pretty face from your eyes always. you never cared to look under it, never felt the need to make him take it off. even now, with his face in your hands, you felt no urge to see what was underneath. as far as you were concerned, the mask was his face--even if you had once seen that face and how stupidly handsome he was.
simon was an enigma. he had a poker face that many envied; the mask hid so much of his emotions, so much of what he might feel, and often he was even able to control the scrunch of his brows or the twitch of his eyes so you could read nothing. but he needed his eyes; he needed them to see, to engage, and if he could cover them, he would, but he needed them, so they were dark and wide, the one piece of him that he allowed.
so you tilted his head back with your hand on his face, letting the soft light of the room break him his hiding place. he wasn't wearing any eye-black today, and you smoothed a thumb just under his eye, watching his lashes flutter for a second. fuck, he was so pretty.
"you worry too much, simon," you whispered. "i'm fine. i promise."
you leaned forward, sighing deeply.
"i promise, simon," you said under your breath. "if something was wrong, i would tell you."
you tried looking into his eyes to convince him, but you knew as soon as you did, that you crucified the lie. something was wrong. you were scraping along, getting dragged by life, but you had learned a long time ago how to bury things into a box and swallow it all down.
you knew, also, that he didn't believe you. simon was too intelligent a man to think you were being honest there, but he didn't say anything. he just followed the warmth of your hand, and if he was a cat, he'd be purring.
you moved to stand, but simon reached for you, his gloved hands on your knees as he held you there. you opened your mouth to speak, but then he leaned forward, his head against your chest as he held you close. it forced your knees to spread to make room for him, and you sucked in a breath as both of his palms slipped up your thighs and caressed the soft skin there.
"simon--"
"don't want to bloody talk--"
"but--simon--"
it happened fast. one moment, you were sitting upright, cradling his head to your chest and feeling his hands along thighs, and the next, you were on your back, splayed across your bed, your dress riding up your hips and the stilettos of your heels digging into the meat of simon's back.
simon was not all muscle; sometimes, when he relaxed, you could feel the softness of him under your palm, a warmth that was solid, like a bear--something protective and built to last, like the foundations of a good home. and then sometimes he was like this--tense all over, muscles constricted, abdomen as taut as a rock, arms bulging as they worked and lifted and manhandled you like the lieutenant he was.
his head was buried between your thighs. you panted, breath heavy as you felt his heavy breath suddenly, his mask pushed up just enough so that he could lick a warm stripe up the inside of your thigh.
"you won't talk," simon murmured against the skin there. he wrapped his arms around your thighs, yanking you forward until he could kiss where your pelvis met your thigh. you shuddered at the feeling of his lips grazing the lace of your panties. "you won't fuckin' talk, but you will sing for me, luv."
"simon, i need to go..."
your voice was protesting, but your hands found the back of his head, smoothing over the locks of his hair. you whimpered when you felt the wetness of his tongue along the fabric of your panties. his entire mouth enveloped your mound, jaw hinging wide as he tasted you through the lace. you bucked up into his mouth, your hips chasing the wet feeling. he growled out angrily, keeping your hips pinned down as he sucked messily, his teeth nipping at the delicate lingerie.
you sucked in a shaky breath as he used a gloved finger to push it to the side, your cunt on display. he cursed when he spread your folds, watching the drip of you as it drenched your panties more, your sweet hole puckering around nothing.
"fuckin' hell--" he sucked on his teeth. "you're fuckin' drippin', luv."
"s-simon, i-i...i can explain, i..."
"don't have to explain anythin'."
you whined as he finally put his mouth on you. his tongue started low, teasing your cunt with a slow circle before curling, trying to flood his mouth with the taste of you. you tasted good, tasted familiar somehow, and his chest swelled at the thought that you were this wet because you were thinking about him.
he could listen to you for hours. the moans that passed through your glossy lips, the languid roll of your hips as you chased his tongue, the sweat that gathered at the base of your spine and along your forehead and the sound of his name sputtering in choked breaths out of your gorgeous mouth.
a vision. simon didnt believe paradise existed, but he believed there was something close to it. it used to be the side of a bullet hitting exactly where he aimed, the feel of foreign soil hitting his enemy's eyes before he took them down, getting his squad out of the gutter when they were pinned down on all sides. he was good at his job. he was good on the field, he was good with chaos, but this was new.
this feeling had always been somewhere under the surface whenever he was with you. he didn't recognize it at first because he had never felt anything quite like it. the feeling one gets when they get home after a long day. the light in someone's eyes when they see a face they recognize when they're in a place they don't belong. the light of a flame in room so dark, you can't see your hands held up in front of your face.
he wondered sometimes if he had ever felt this way with his family. if looking into his nephew's eyes, he had ever felt something like this--and he did, somewhat, but this was more. this wasn't the gentle nip of a soft animal, this kind of love had fangs, and it had sunk itself so deep into him, he knew it was latched onto him. sucking on his blood, draining the shit from his veins, and putting something else there, something addicting.
and he didn't care. he gripped your hips with his gloved hands, sucking on your clit and licking up the slick of you and trying so hard to please the woman that plagued every fucking thought in his head.
"simon--"
your voice was a sob, practically. whining his name, tears coming down your face as he ate you out furiously. he was gentle at first, and then he was nearly aggressive, slurping at your folds and fucking into your cunt and barely coming up for air. when he did come up, his tone was low and drunk-sounding, slurring out soft phrases of "like a fuckin' sweet" and "so fuckin' pretty."
your back arched off the bed. your makeup was ruined by now, surely. your corset askew, your stilettos digging dark holes into his back, your throat hoarse from the crying--simon had you like no one else. simon had you wrapped so tightly around his gloved finger, you might as well have been a brand there--an extension of that glove, one of the crude white bones painted along the back of his hand. he had carved a hole so deep inside of you, shaped perfectly to the beastly size of him; you would never be rid of him. your whole life after this, you just knew--nobody would ever eat your cunt the way lieutenant simon riley ate it, that was a fucking fact.
he moaned when you came. a deep, guttural moan that came from deep in his chest. his eyes rolled to the back of his head when you gushed right onto his tongue. he drank it like he was running desert dry, a kind of eagerness that was making your vision go a little fuzzy, sparkling dots hazing over you. your head was a mess of emotions, all clouded over by pleasure and your body limp in his arms. your body was jelly, so worn as if you had been fucked brainless, but, oh--simon hadn't even gotten that far with you, and his mouth had you spineless.
you sat up, hair tousled, legs shaking, breaths warm and heavy and easy. everything was easy with simon. living, breathing, loving, touching--everything was easy.
he stood up finally, rising from his knees and rolling out his shoulders, and even though you could see him subtly adjusting his pants, he didn't make a move on you. he didn't reach for you, didn't try and touch you again, didn't reach for the bow he had tied on your corset to try and undo it. no, simon had just given you a mind-numbing orgasm and if not for the strain on his zipper, you'd think he had just filed his fucking taxes.
"simon...s-simon--"
"have fun tonight," he murmured, brushing a stray hair out of your face. he tucked it behind your ear, the glove making you shiver. "you call me when y'ready to come home."
your lashes fluttered as you looked up at him, a soft smile on your face.
"m-maybe i dont...maybe i don't wanna go out, m-maybe i wanna stay here...with you...w-watch movies like we usually do."
he shook his head, his thumb swiping just under your chin.
"no. go have fun. i'll be waitin' here for you, luv."
his fingers traced along your neck, something in his eyes that said he wanted more. but a ghost doesn't beg, right?
but maybe simon does.
"okay. i'll call you."
"right then."
and when the click of your bedroom door shut, you looked down at your shoes, so prettily tied with a bow on the end. you reached down, gripping the end of the bow and pulling, watching the silk unravel and come undone.
and then he heard the call of his name again.
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amsznn · 6 months
Note
Hey can you do one where the reader has a crush on Matt.She is very much giving heart eyes and tries to do anything to make him happy.Matt being oblivious complains to his brother about it.Nick and Chris smack some sense into him saying how lucky he is to have someone like us care about him.Matt disagrees and the reader hears this causing her to stop not wanting to make him uncomfortable.Matt misses the way things use to be and gets jealous when learning the reader is going out on a date.At the end they have an argument and he tells her how he really feels.Lots of angst in the beginning fluff towards the end please!!
OVERBEARING - m. sturniolo
warnings: slight cursing, angst at start, fluff at the end
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-
you couldn’t deny it anymore. and you dont think it went unnoticed either.
the lingering gazes, to the more than normal laughter at his jokes, or the constant acts of service. how you were willing to do anything for him. just him.
matthew sturniolo.
you thought your constant need to be near him was just you wanting to be better friends. that was until your feelings started growing stronger.
“y/n, helloo.”
you brought your attention to the voice you found yourself loving so much.
“sorry, what?”
“i asked if you could pass the remote.” matt repeated while settling down beside you on the couch. you nodded and reached over to grab the remote to hand it to him. it was around 1 AM, and it was just the two of you. nick and chris had went to their rooms while you and matt decided to watch a movie.
“want me to get you a blanket?” you whispered as matt stared at the screen to the opening of the movie.
“no, im good.” matt says. you nodded and turned your head towards the movie. about five minutes or so passed when you asked another question.
“hungry?”
“nope.” matt responds, adding a ‘pop’ to the p to exaggerate his response. you mumbled an ‘okay’. a few beats of silence passed before once again, you asked.
“are you sure-”
“y/n, please m’ just trying to watch the movie in peace.” matt sighed. he was getting frustrated by the second. after a long day of filming with his relatively loud brothers, the only sounds he wanted to hear were the actors on the tv.
but this was only one example of your persistence. you were always clung to matt’s side. following him like a lost puppy at all times.
always there to cook him up a meal after his long day, willing to do any of his chores that he just didn’t feel like doing, even soothing him to sleep on those tough nights where everything went blank.
nick would sometimes make fun of matt. it almost seemed like you were his mother with the way you acted. but thats not what you were trying to come off as. you simply just had a lot of love for the boy that you weren’t really ready to confess yet.
but for matt? he didn’t see your clinginess as a good thing, in fact he began to hate it once nick pointed it out.
on one particular day matt decided to bring it up to his brothers while they were in nick’s room.
“i just don’t get it, like she’s just always there.” matt says while pacing around the room.
“is that a bad thing?” nick asks while organizing the clothes in his closet.
“i mean it wouldn’t be if she didn’t act like im some sort of child.” matt sighed while plopping down at the edge of the bed.
“i dunno, i’d love to have someone like y/n. she literally does everything for you bro.” chris laughs while slightly nudging matt.
“yeah..” nick yells from his closet. “don’t know why you’re bitchin’ bout it she’s literally helps you with like…” nick took a pause to think. “everything!”
matt scoffs before shaking his head. “yeah well it’s nice before it gets fucking unbearable.”
unbeknownst to matt, you could hear this whole conversation. you had came to drop off some food for the triplets, and since you had an extra key you went straight in. now you would’ve made yourself known until you realized you were the topic of their conversation.
to say you were hurt from matts words was an understatement. you quickly rushed out of the house, tears streaming down your face recounting every scenario where you were overbearing.
-
hours turned into days and days turned into weeks. matt hadn’t heard from you in a while. he expected to wake up to your daily morning texts, but nothing. after he shrugged that off he expected you to come over like you usually did. but once again, you didn’t.
he found himself longing for your presence more than he ever did.
you both went no contact until you came over, seeking nicks assistance since you had a date that night in hopes that your little crush on matt would subside.
you had went the whole time without speaking to the brunette. opting for a simple ‘hey’. matt was confused. why were you suddenly so distant? sure he wanted space at times but this is not what he had in mind.
matt finally snapped when you attempted rushing out their house, bidding matt goodbye with a meek ‘see ya’.
matt rose from his spot on the catch before making his way towards you. “are you gonna tell me what’s going on, or are you gonna keep avoiding me?” matt said while crossing his arms on his chest.
you could only roll your eyes before slipping your shoes on. “i dont know what you’re talking about, but i have to go.” you spat harshly before spinning on your heel.
“woah, what’s up with you?” matt yelled, shocked at your sudden anger towards him. he pulled you back by your wrist so you could face him.
“y’know if you found me ‘overbearing’ you could’ve just told me.”
thats when everything came back to matt. instant regret washed over him as he gazed upon your solemn expression. the same eyes that used to hold so much adoration for him now hollow.
“i’m so sorry y/n. i know theres no excuse to what i said but i was just being stupid.” matt sighed while running a hand down his face. “you’re far from overbearing, in fact i...i really miss you.”
“really?” you mumbled while your facial expression softened. matt nodded before embracing you in a tight hug to which you reciprocated by wrapping your arms around his waist. your date long forgotten.
“you’re amazing the way you are, and im sorry if i made it seem any other way.”
you smiled at matts words before leaning up to look at him. “just tell me next time, okay?” matt smiled and lightly pecked the side of your temple. happy to have finally gotten you back.
the version of you he loved.
and the version of you he would always cherish.
-
A/N: sorry this should’ve came out yesterday but i had to study for an exam. i have also been experiencing writers block but i have a new matt series in mind so stay on the look out for that!
tags:
@junnniiieee07 @tillies33ssss @whore4matt @stellarsturns @summerl986 @inveigledvex @beccaluvschris @stingerayyy2 @bunnysturns @braindead4l @vickyzloserz @sturnzsblog
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redstarwriting · 1 year
Text
shit happens
spider squad x platonic!reader
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request?: yes
request: “Okokok, first of all CLASH WAS SOOOO GOOD OMGGI come bearing a request only if u want to. Teen!spider!reader who is Miguel’s favorite because they don’t cause him trouble. But it’s only because they get severely anxious when they break rules (I’m not projecting, you are). So he assigns them to go on a mission with the problem children hoping they’ll rub off on them, but the problem children just corrupt them. I just need more spider children being chaotic together and tired spiderdad MiguelMwah mwah love ur writing )pls only write this if u feel like it)”
requested by: anon​
word count: 2k
genre: platonic
Warnings: language, anxiety, Miguel being unrealistic with his expectations, electrocution, spider squad gettin thrown around
A/N: omg wait no bc same HAHA as someone with diagnosed severe generalized anxiety i get so anxious to break the rules even though my spirit always tells me to lol, i hope you enjoyed this anon! thank you for the request :)
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You were the golden child. There were quite a few teens in Spider Society, but you were by far Miguel’s favorite. And that’s all because you did what he said. Now did that mean you never questioned his authority? Of course not, you questioned him all the time. But you were too nervous to go against him. You were too nervous to go against anyone. It’s proven a problem in your job since the police are not your biggest fans, but luckily you befriended a nice police captain who eases your fears every now and again. Your weekly visits with Spider-Therapist have been helping with the problem, too. Which is great for you. But you still did what Miguel said. Mans could be scary.
And that’s how you ended up here. With Hobie Brown, Gwen Stacy, Miles Morales, and Pavitr Prabhakar. There was an anomaly that needed taken down in Hobie’s world, and Miguel stuck you with the four of them. To say you were nervous was an understatement. “Right, so anyone got a plan?” Hobie asks, in his thick accent. “What? What do you mean, dude, we’re in your world,” Miles says, and Hobie shrugs. “So? Not my villain, dunno ‘ow to stop ‘im.”
“Okay, well we know that he’s an electro variant, so… what can we do with that?” Gwen asks, and Pav sighs. “Be electrocuted,” he says sadly. “Miles can handle that,” Gwen says, and Miles snaps his head toward her. “Miles cannot handle that! Why are we saying Miles can be electrocuted?!” Miles yells, and the other three shush him. “’ow ‘bout you, mate, any ideas?” Hobie asks you, and you shrug. You look around before pointing up to the water towers on the roofs of the multiple buildings in New London. “Water,” you suggest, and they all look where you’re pointing. “Smart,” Gwen says with a nod. “How do we get the water to him, though?” Pav asks, looking at you again. You frown. “I… actually didn’t think that far.”
“Well, ‘at’s, easy. We just bust ‘em. Get ‘im to fly near one and,” Hobie makes an explosion noise and uses his hands to imitate an explosion. “What? But what about all the people who will lose water?” you ask, and Miles cocks his head to the side. “It’ll get fixed fast, probably. It’s our job to fuck shit up and then have other people fix it cause if we don’t fuck shit up, shit gets fucked anyways,” he says, and you sigh. “But Miguel said to try and not cause too much of an issue—”
“Oi. Who gives a flyin’ fuck what ‘e said. Not me. And this is my bloody world, I’ll cause as much damage as I want to,” Hobie says, and you look down. “Sorry.”
“You don’t gotta apologize for nothin’, mate,” Hobie says, and you mumble another ‘sorry.’ “You know what? I think Electro can wait a minute,” Hobie says, turning towards you, “More important matters to figure out ‘ere.”
“Like what?” you ask, and he shrugs. “Why are you so nervous?” he asks, and you gulp. “I-I’m not, I just—”
“You definitely are,” Gwen says, and Miles throws in a ‘yup!’ with a nod. “Is it us?” Pav asks, a hint of sadness in his voice. “W-What? No, that’s not it,” you say, waving your hands in a frantic way to say no. “I just am nervous in general. It really isn’t that big of a deal, guys, we should be focusing on—”
“Nope. You’re not gettin’ outta this, you been in ya ‘ead this ‘ole time.”
“I’m always in my head, it really isn’t that big of a deal—”
“Is ‘at why you try to avoid everyone? Don’t talk to no one?” Hobie asks, and you gulp. “I-I talk to some people…” you mumble, and a small frown forms on Gwen’s face. “The therapist in Spider Society doesn’t count,” she says, and you look down. “Well, why not…? He’s a person...”
“Because he’s like 40, and you’re our age,” Pav says, “you’d get along better with us, bro.”
“Miguel said that if anyone could make us not as ‘moronic’ it would be you, but I feel like he just kinda takes advantage of you instead of recognizing the pressure he puts on you. I have some experience with that,,” Miles says, and you sigh. “He scares me, okay? If I break the rules then I might simply pass away from him yelling at me,” you say, and Hobie shakes his head. “Love, the rules are all bollocks. Made by people who just wanna control your life.” Gwen nods. “Miguel is cool, sure, but if anyone can get away with anything… it’s you,” she says, and Miles chimes in. “And if you’re really that scared, remember he literally chased me around his world and destroyed a train because of me. You’ll never piss him off to that point.” You stay silent, playing with your fingers. Pav reaches out and grabs your hands. “Rules are meant to be broken, (Y/n), I learned that from Hobie. And besides, the villains we face are the biggest rule-breakers imaginable,” Pav assures, and you nod slightly. “And rules are such rubbish. ‘ey’re always different anywhere ya go. Try not to put so much weight on your mind ‘bout it, breakin’ ‘em ain’t a big deal,” Hobie says. You do actually kinda feel better. Hobie brings up a good point. Rules are different everywhere you go, so breaking one every now and again isn’t that big of an issue. In fact, it can be kind of encouraged. “Besides, breaking rules is almost like challenging ideologies, you know? Like, in breaking a rule, you challenge a system in place that is telling you not to break them. No one likes that. Where would we be if people didn’t break rules?” Gwen says. “That was deep,” Miles says, and Pav nods. “'at was a wicked way a’ puttin’ it, Gwendy.”
That’s a good point, actually. You think for a bit. If you look at it as challenging a system, or even doing what’s right, who’s to say it’s a rule that shouldn’t be broken? Hobie smiles underneath his mask because he knows they’ve gotten through to you. “So, whaddya say we go blow up some water tanks, eh?” Hobie stands, rubbing his hands together. “Okay,” you say. Gwen and Miles fist bump, and Pav does a little clap. The five of you jump into action, immediately starting to taunt and lure Electro to get him close to the towers so you can douse him and put him out.
The plan was going pretty well for the first two attempts, but he eventually catches on to what the five of you are doing. Which makes it harder. Miles does, in fact, get electrocuted. As does Gwen and Hobie, and coming in as no shock to anyone, Miles is definitely the least affected. You were able to dodge all of the attacks. “You’re doing great, (Y/n)! Mind telling me how the fuck your spidey sense is so strong?!” you hear Miles yell. “MILES LOOK OUT!” Gwen screams, but it’s too late. He gets electrocuted again. “Ouch, bro! That one looked like it hurt!” Pav yells, and Miles, who is now lying face down on a roof, raises his hand up in the air, flipping him off. You snort, and then see Hobie fly past you, landing on another water tower. “Hey! Dumbass! Over here!”
“Oh, please. You expect me to fall for that? I know what your little plan is, and I’m not about to be put out,” Electro says, firing some electricity out at Hobie. Unluckily for Hobie, it breaks the water tower and electrocutes him and the water that pours out of it.
You land next to Hobie, who is now just laying on the rooftop, but he grunts and mutters some British slang that you wouldn’t understand even if he explained it to you. So, you know he’s fine. “I have an idea,” you say, and he nods. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. But we need to make sure no one is on the street.”
“What’s the goody-goody plannin’ on doin’, huh?” he says, standing. “You’ll see, just make sure there are no civilians or anyone who will get hurt. And keep him distracted.” With that, you leap and go to another one of the water towers. You take a deep breath, thinking back to what Miguel said before the five of you left.
“Try not to destroy the city while you’re at it. (Y/n), I trust you’ll keep them all in line,” Miguel said, and you timidly nod. You’d love to not destroy the city, but it’s so hard doing that as a Spider-Person. But you also don’t want him to yell at you for going against his orders. Now you’re conflicted. “No promises, Miguel. We’re gonna do what we gotta do,” Miles says and Miguel sighs. “If anyone can reign the four of you in, it’s this one. Don’t let them pressure you into acting up, okay?”
You frown. Fuck that. Miguel is pressuring you into not doing your job right. You can’t always be perfect and careful. And lucky for you, the four of them were really good at distracting villains. You web two of the support legs, yanking them and breaking them off the water tower. It starts collapsing, but you catch it. “Shit, you’re heavy,” you grunt, but regain your balance, holding it on your shoulders. You twist your body, ripping the other supports off and making the water tower completely free. You get Electro in your sight and take a deep breath. You lift the water tower, tossing it up in the air before leaping out of the way and towards Electro. You shoot webs from both hands, connecting them to the water tower and yanking it towards you. You swing it around, connecting it with Electro’s body. Sure enough, it knocks him down and explodes on impact, drenching him. And you. And Hobie, Miles, Gwen, and Pav; but hey, you did it.
You land on a roof and look down. Sure enough, Electro is knocked out cold and completely out of electricity. You swing down, placing him in one of the technological cells that Miguel developed specifically for Electros, and nod. “That… probably could have gone better,” you mutter to yourself. Your self-deprecating thoughts were cut off immediately. “That was AWESOME, (Y/n),” Gwen says, giving you a thumbs up and hug. “Yeah, little Spider, that was bitchin’,” Hobie says, giving you a fist bump. “You made it look so easy! How did you do that, you have to teach me!” Pav says, clearly excited and impressed. “You were out here talking about how you didn’t wanna break rules so instead you broke an entire water tower? That’s cool, why don’t you try being less cool next time for the sake of us,” Miles says giving you a pat on the shoulder. You smile. “Thanks, guys.” Their praise was enough to make you feel better for completely and totally wreaking havoc.
But when the five of you return, soaking wet, Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose. “I said… to not destroy the city…” he mutters, looking at you with disappointment. You look down. “City’s still standin’, mate. (Y/n) kicked ass,” Hobie says, and the other three make sounds of agreement. “Y-Yeah, Miguel. All I did was break one water tower, it’s not that big of a deal,” you say, and he sighs. “One? You all broke four water towers on four different buildings! And you flooded an entire street! You’re supposed to be the responsible one.”
“Dude. I’m a teenager. Shit happens,” you say, a sudden burst of confidence from being around the group of four allowing you to speak out. Miguel puts his hand on his jaw, sliding his hand down. “Remind me to never team the five of you up again,” he mumbles, and Hobie elbows you. “Nah, we’re a band now. Sorry ‘bout it,” Hobie says, motioning everyone to leave Miguel’s sight. You all follow. When you’re out of Miguel’s office, Hobie bumps your shoulder. “See, that wasn’t all that bad, was it?”
He was right, it wasn’t that bad.
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3K notes · View notes
yoichiris · 2 years
Text
better than letting go | nagi seishiro x reader
✩ accidental sugar daddy nagi ✩ pro-player!nagi, roommates au, angst to fluff, heavy pining, miscommunication
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"just go live with nagi," reo says offhandedly, "if you clean up after him, he'll let you stay there forever."
you open your mouth to refute the suggestion, because reo knows how you feel about nagi, knows you couldn't possibly stay in an enclosed space with him hours on day on end without jumping him... but before you do, nagi himself interrupts.
"i'm okay with that," he replies in his usual laid-back voice.
you glare at him because you think he sounds more excited about the cleaning part.
"you're going to be homeless," reo shrugs, "why not?"
you return your glare at reo, "why can't you just house me in one of your billion-dollar properties."
"then i'd have to ask my old man for permission," he waves you off like the asshole he is, "no thanks."
"what's wrong with living with me?" nagi wonders, and you hate him for acting like he wants to live with you so badly.
"look, just clean nagi's dirty underwear for the next year while you finish your degree and you won't have to worry about a thing," reo explains, as if there aren't other factors like your five-year infatuation with nagi, and maybe the fact that nagi lives like he doesn't know what a vacuum does.
you sigh, thinking about the end of your lease and the astronomical increase in rent incoming, and how much you don't want to work your stupid part-time job, and give in.
of course it's not that bad. all you had to do was keep your feelings to yourself.
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"nagi," you hiss, "nagi, wake up, you're going to be late!"
he only stirs, covers tucked under his chin, as if he's hiding from you. you inch the door wider, stepping into his room hesitantly. he doesn't even make a move.
"nagi," you whine, crouching at the side of his bed.
he makes a sound of acknowledgment but keeps his eyes closed, so you sit cross-legged on the floor, watching his sleeping form. he's so cute like this, you think, yearning.
it's been a week since you moved in with nagi. in a lot of ways, he's exactly what you thought he would be like in private: he's rarely home, and when he is, he's quiet.
you thought he would spend more time in his room, under the covers, but you realize quickly he's furnished his couch with the coziest throw and likes to curl under there when he is home.
it makes your heart warm when you come home to see nagi, his toes sticking out from underneath the blanket, waiting for you to eat dinner.
"...what time is it?" you hear him mumble.
your heart skips a beat when he opens his eyes, groggy with sleep, and touches your arm. you sigh shakily.
"too late," you smile softly at him, "i'll prep your pre-workout so you can take it with you, okay?"
"thanks," he tells you, his voice raspy.
he smiles back at you and reaches out, poking you in the forehead. when you feel his fingers touch your skin, you think you'll drop dead right there.
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"are you gonna move out after you graduate?" reo asks, nine months into your arrangement.
you've been avoiding even thinking about it. you're busy with graduation, you justify to yourself, you don't have time to look for a new place yet.
"hm?" you hum innocently, "i dunno. haven't had time to think about it."
"nagi asked me 'bout it," he mentions casually, and you freeze. is he counting the days down until you leave?
you and nagi have settled into a daily routine: you wake him up, he goes to practice, you study after class, and when he comes back late at night, he hangs out with you for an hour before he has to sleep. mostly, you and nagi sit on either end of the couch, sharing the cozy throw, and read manga.
it's lulled you into a false sense of security, you think.
"oh," is all you manage to say. maybe he finds you bothersome? maybe he wants his own space back?
reo hits you over the head, lightly. "what's that face for? it's been going good living with nagi, right?"
and it was. it was everything you had dreamed of, and it shocked you how well you got along with nagi. you think of how, in early mornings when both of you (mostly you) are rushing out the door, bumping hips in the kitchen, even then it seems like you were working together.
"yep," you reply, sipping your iced coffee, "too good."
reo takes a bite of his food, and suggests, "maybe you two should just keep living together. you can split rent or something."
"can't rely on nagi forever," you protest.
"why not?" he says, just like he did when he had first suggested this whole thing, "isn't that what you want?"
you kick him under the table, angry that he was bringing your feelings up now. yes, you want to scream, it is. but nothing has changed between you and nagi, nothing at all.
you're always trying to keep your feelings in check: when he peers over your shoulder as you're cooking, the warmth of his body hot asgainst yours. or how adorable he looks when he comes out of the shower, his shaggy hair falling over his eyes, his face shiny. those are the times your feelings want to burst.
"just talk to nagi about it," reo nudges. you're not sure if he's talking about the housing or the feelings.
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you're curled up with nagi on the couch when you muster the courage to say anything. your legs are touching his under the blanket, and you feel as if that might connect you to him.
there's a month left until you graduate, which is absolutely not enough time for you to find a place to live, but you were scared. you hear the victory sounds of nagi's mobile game, so you decide now's better than never.
"so," you start, and his gaze drifts over to you, "i haven't really found a new place to live yet."
it's quiet. "s'okay," nagi mumbles, not even looking up from his phone, "you can move out whenever."
well, at least that answers your question on whether or not he wants you to move out. at least he wasn't pushing you out the door, you tell yourself.
you don't know what else to say. do you want me to leave so badly? you want to ask. can't i stay with you? you think, desperate. but those words don't leave your mouth.
"are you coming to my graduation?" you ask lightly, and regret it when you realize that you've opened yourself up again.
he shrugs. "dunno my prac schedule yet, but reo's going right?" he replies, as if reo could replace him.
you feel cold despite the blanket, and sink deeper into the couch, feeling drained. from the corner of your eye, you see nagi tapping away at his phone, signaling to you that he's still deep in his game. you take your legs away, knowing he wouldn't even notice.
"yep," you say and awkwardly crawl out of your warm spot on the couch. "i'm gonna go to bed first, nagi."
"g'night," he replies, finally looking up as you pass him with your head bowed. he watches you walk back to your room, and doesn't take his eyes off of you until you close the door behind you.
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you eventually begged reo to find you an empty unit in one of his father's rental properties.
he had been insistent you just talk to nagi, as if he knew something you didn't, but you had to explain that you did, and nagi had no objections to you moving out, and you weren't going to wait until he shoved you out the door to move on.
it has been so awkward since that small conversation you'd had with nagi. maybe it was you, feeling out of place, like you had reached a point of no return.
waking him up in the mornings were now rushed, gently pushing him awake and scurrying off before he was fully awake. leaving his pre-workout on the counter instead of handing it to him. sitting at the kitchen table under the guise of studying instead of curling up on the couch with him.
it's not that he'd changed, you knew, it's that you couldn't keep playing pretend with your feelings anymore.
you hear the front door click as nagi walks into the apartment.
"hey," he says, pushing open the door to your room, "i'm home."
you turn from your position at the front of your closet, where you were just about to take out your suitcase. "oh, hey," you reply lamely, "welcome home."
he hovers, something he's never really done, as if he knows you have something to say, as if he had something to say. the words were stuck in your throat.
"reo told me you're moving out," nagi finally tells you.
traitor, you curse at reo. "uh, yeah," you smile tightly, "i didn't want to keep bothering you, so..."
"you're not bothering me," he replies, maybe a little too quickly, but you don't notice.
there's another silence. what else can you say?
"you don't have to leave," nagi continues, "i don't mind if you stay here."
but do you want me to stay? you want to ask. the way he says it so casually, as if it didn't matter whether you stayed or not, only solidified your decision to be away from him. at least then you could just be his friend without delusions of sharing a life with him so intimately.
"nah," you try to keep your voice steady, "it's probably better this way."
"i like living with you, though," nagi shuffles his hair uncomfortably as he says it.
you laugh, maybe a little bitterly, "because i cook and clean for you?"
"no," he says quickly, looking flustered, "no, i just like it when you're here."
but why? you want to scream. your heart pounds, because you feel like you're close to something, but at the same time it feels so far. sometimes you're convinced that he knows about your feelings, that sometimes you two are talking about them even though the topic is unrelated.
"it was nice," you settle on saying, as if it wasn't life changing, "but i can afford living on my own now."
"i don't want you to leave," nagi almost sounds like he's whining, and your heart skips another beat.
"why not?" you say, frustrated, breathless, "we can't just keep living together forever."
"what if i want to?" he says, and you feel like the conversation has become out of control.
your mind is racing. what is happening right now, you try to breathe through your nose. what is he talking about right now, you try to ask yourself.
"nagi—" you stop yourself, trying to get a grip, "what are you saying?"
you're looking at him now and you're surprised by the determination in his eyes. it's what he looks like when he's really focused, like he is when he plays soccer.
"i want to live with you forever," he declares, sounding defiant, as if that wasn't what you wanted.
but you're not sure what it means. you only know that five years is a long time to be holding onto your feelings.
"i don't understand," you mumble, staring at the floor, quieter than before, "i love you, nagi. not as a friend. so no, i can't just live with you forever."
you feel him before you see him, his body towering over you. when you look up, he's pouting. he puts his hand on top of your head, gentle, warm.
"why do you look so sad," he wonders, as if he hadn't heard what you just said, "that's why i want to live with you forever, dummy."
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you wake up to nagi wrapped around you.
"sei," you groan, turning in his arms to look at his sleeping face, "you're heavy."
he mutters, groggy, incoherent, and you can't help but press a kiss to his nose. his hair is falling all over his face, but your eyes memorize every slope. he squeezes you harder.
"why are you awake so early," he mutters, nudging your chest with his head, "it's my day off."
you soothe your hand down his bare back, feeling the tight muscles underneath your fingers. he works so hard, and his days off are so rare. you wiggle some more, to loosen his arms.
"i know," you smile, "but let me go make breakfast, kay? i'm hungry."
he shakes his head and whines. "no," he refuses, "just go back to sleep."
you relax, unable to tell him no. mornings with nagi often go like this, except that you usually have enough self-control to get him up. but sometimes, you remember what it was like wanting him so bad, that now you remind yourself to enjoy it.
as a partner, nagi is clingy, vulnerable. but he's also determined, and sometimes, the intensity with which he wants you catches you off guard.
"y/n," he calls, his breath hot against your neck, "i'm happy you're here."
you close your eyes, nodding. "me, too."
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5K notes · View notes
toxicanonymity · 1 year
Text
Midnight Snack.
3.4k slasher!Joel x f!reader
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slasher Joel masterlist | spotify SUMMARY: Joel has dinner with his Mom, then visits you. A/N: Shoutout to @iamasaddie for the master list mood board magnets, @gasolinerainbowpuddles for the edit and divider, fridge magnet anon ask, @thesummerpetrichor , anyone I'm forgetting?  WARNINGS: I8+ dubcon unsafe p in v, creampie, light somnophilia, choking, lewd degradation, home intrusion, manual restraint, spitting, toxic parental issues, angst/insecurity, changes POV, NO Y/N.  
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“I said I’m good, Ma,” Joel grumbles as his mom puts another heaping spatula of casserole on his plate anyway. He sighs and pushes it around with his fork. 
“What’s got ya down, hun?”  
“Nothin’.”
“It’s a girl, ain’t it?” She smiles. “Knew it. Last time ya were here, ya had that glow," she nods, then registers his sullen face again.  "It's okay, hun. Whatever it is, you'll work it out.". 
He hasn't stopped thinking about you since he was there. When he drives, when he showers, when he goes to bed, when he jacks off—he sees the desire in your eyes when you’re pinned against the counter. He sees your dripping hole stretched around his fist. He thinks about you every time he uses his wrench. Still smells like your filthy cunt. 
"Tell me 'bout her,” his mom urges. 
“Can't,” Joel mumbles. “Don’t got a girl.” 
His mom looks at him knowingly. She always sees right through him. He doesn’t like how close they are, but in a way, she’s his only friend.  He fails to suppress a little smile, then looks down shyly at his plate and finally takes a bite.  
She asks,  “How’d ya meet?” 
Joel gives her a half-serious cautionary look and keeps chewing. 
“Work?” his mom prods. 
Joel swallows, nods, and takes a sip of milk. “Gave'r a ride.”
Two rides, really. Although you took the second one all on your own. And damn, it was good. He shifts in his seat. 
“Well, great,” his mom lights up. “When ya gonna see her again?” She dabs her mouth with a cloth napkin and stands up. 
“I dunno, Ma. . .She’s too good for me.”
She huffs, adjusts her glasses, then walks over. She playfully whips him on the shoulder with the fabric napkin, then puts her finger in his face. “Don’t you ever say that. No one’s too good for my boy.” She takes his glass to the kitchen and pours him some more milk, then sits back down at the table. 
“already left me once,” Joel grumbles.
His Mom’s face falls, then sours.  
“Then she’s not worth your time." She scoffs. Or anyone else’s." 
“She’s different, Ma," he mutters deadpan, then quieter, he adds, "Sometimes I think she likes me," with the slightest lift of his brow.  
Mrs. Miller's eyebrows shoot all the way up. "Well, she should!"
"'mixed signals." He’s saying too much, but he can’t stop. It’s not like he has anyone else to talk to.
"Bring'er for dinner," she suggests.
"Ain't like that," he sulks. "We don't-" He cuts himself off and sighs, sitting back in his chair. He puts his napkin on his plate. "Shouldn't'a mentioned it," he mumbles. 
His mom reaches across the table for his hand, and he gives it to her.  He looks at the delicate, paper-thin skin covering the veins on her hand. It makes him sad. He wants to bring a girl home. He wants to make his Mom happy. He doesn't come by enough.  She must be so lonely.  And he's the one who. . .no, his father deserved it, he reminds himself for the millionth time in his life. He didn’t love them, his mom said. Resentment begins to overtake his guilt. He doesn’t want to feel sorry for her. He steels himself and decides to feel nothing. 
"Look at me, Joel."  She looks him in the eye. "You're not gonna get a wife like this, honey." Joel swallows and looks down. She continues, "Don't be a quitter. She's yours if you want her." Don’t be a quitter. 
The buzzer for the laundry goes off. Mrs. Miller starts to head to the laundry room, but Joel stops her. "Feel like a loser when ya do my laundry." 
She shakes her head in disapproval and starts clearing the table instead. "My son. . .” she picks up both their plates. ". . .Is not a loser." 
Joel finishes his laundry, watches some tv with her while she knits, then pulls himself away.  His Mom sends him on his way with an old tupperware of casserole. "Go get her," she tells him with a wink.
—-
He wants to make a move.  He wants to fuck you again, but he isn’t sure how.  How do people do it? He doesn't know how to ask you out, or what you'd do together. Every time he thinks about it, he feels stupid, but he does wanna see you.  He wants to be inside you. He wants to make you purr, little sex kitten. 
At this hour, you’re probably out whoring, but he might as well drive by while he’s close.  All your lights are off, but your car is there. Hmm. He can't bring himself to go home. Don’t be a quitter.  He sits in his car at the end of your street. Last time he came over, it went pretty well. You wanted him to fuck you, and he did.  You wanted more, and he gave you more. Then he left before you could leave him. 
He feels like you’re special, but he really only knows a few things about you. Most importantly, you like the danger, you want the thrill, you want his dick, and you sure can take a cock. 
The only thing he can think to do is give you more of what he knows you want. Even if you're asleep, you'll be purring for it as soon as he drags you out of bed and pins you on the floor.  He pictures a knife at your throat. Not a big one, just his switchblade. 
He gets out of his car and adjusts his balls, spreading his feet for a moment. Then he starts walking to your house.  After a few seconds, he goes back to his car for the casserole. Maybe you'll have a midnight snack after he stuffs you full of his cock. He rolls his eyes at himself. That’s stupid. 
—-
There's a lamp with a dying bulb barely flickering on your back patio with a couple of moths fluttering wildly around it. Joel looks into your dark kitchen and scowls at his reflection in the glass. He holds the Tupperware under his elbow and picks the lock with ease. After stepping into your kitchen, he quietly slides the door shut behind him. His boots thud stickily as he takes his first steps on the linoleum. Do you ever mop? He holds his switchblade open in the air.  He’s headed toward the hall where he expects your bedroom is.  He inches through the kitchen--between the counter on his left and the stove on his right, until he gets to your fridge.  
The surface of the fridge is peppered with magnets--souvenirs, letters of the alphabet, bottle openers. It's silly. But a piece of paper catches his eye and he stops dead in his tracks.  It's pinned to the fridge by a "J," and an "X" and an "O." He blinks and squints, but his eyes don't deceive him. It's his drawing of you, legs spread wide open. His chest flutters looking at his sketch of your cunt hung proudly on your fridge. His dick twitches, and he inhales sharply. His mouth is watering.  He dips the tip of his thick pinky between his lips and dribbles a string of saliva on the paper, right between your legs. He tilts his head and admires the way your graphite cunt glistens.
You want him. You really want him. His body relaxes. He closes and pockets his switchblade.  He opens the fridge as quietly as possible and puts the casserole on the top shelf, pausing to survey the scant contents. Mostly condiments. Takeout containers. Beer. Expired orange juice. He closes the fridge. 
The microwave is hanging down from a cabinet to his left. He steps in front of it and bends his knees enough to push back his hair in the reflection. He stands up again, squares his shoulders, then prowls in silence to your bedroom. 
---
The door is open. Of course it is. You want him.  His boots are quieter on your carpet.  He approaches the foot of your bed but doesn't get closer. You're occupying less than half the bed.  You're just as pretty in your sleep. All bundled up. He knew that already. He gets harder, recalling the time he woke you up with his cock inside you. God, you're sexy. How'd he get so lucky that a hot little slut like you wants him so bad?
He goes to the other side of your bed. His side. There’s a chair full of dirty clothes. He sits down on them and takes off his boots.  He stands up again and lowers the zipper of his jumpsuit, pressing down on his bulge to get the zipper over it without snagging. Then he peels the sleeves off and brings it down over his ass and meaty thighs. He lets it pool at his feet and steps out of it. 
He's left wearing a blue soft wash t-shirt, lighter blue striped boxers, and white socks with holes. He takes those socks off too. He approaches your bed, lifts the covers with care, and sees what you're wearing.  You're wearing the shirt–he recognizes its condition.  God damn, you really do want him.  
Joel gradually lets his weight onto your mattress as he slips under the covers. His heart races and his forehead is damp.  His cock is so hard just from being close to you. He lies there perfectly still on his side for a moment, watching your back as you breathe. Then he scoots forward, inch by inch, until his leg hair brushes your bare legs and you jerk in your sleep. 
"Shhh. It's just me," he whispers as he wraps his hulking arm over you.  He spoons you and lightly presses his hard cock against your ass. You moan in your sleep and push back, then he moans. 
You jerk in your sleep again, but this time you don't relax. You startle awake.  You gasp and whimper. Your limbs thrash, and his arm tightens around you. You squeal, and his massive hand covers your mouth.   He wasn't expecting your feisty side, kitten. He came to give you what you want. 
Why don’t you want him anymore?
-----you-----
Pure instinct kicks in when you wake up with someone in your bed. Your heart is pounding, you thrash and  kick with all your might trying to get away. He covers your mouth and repeats “It’s me, sweetheart. God damn.” He sounds confused and irritated at your reaction. His voice is familiar, but it takes you a moment to place it, despite thinking about him all the time in waking life.  It's like your subconscious hasn't caught up with reality, and can you blame it? 
"Would you stop? Damn," he pants, getting more irritated as you continue to struggle and his arm tightens more, compressing your chest.  What did he expect breaking into your house and getting into your bed?
You feel his hard dick press against your loose sleep shorts and get butterflies in your core, even as you continue struggling. He backs up for a moment and the pull of his arm forces you onto your back.  He pins you with his left forearm on your chest and aggressively yanks down your shorts then kicks them all the way off before getting between your legs. His hard cock lays against your clit, separated only by his boxers, and you're throbbing. Your efforts to free yourself get weaker and weaker until you’re just lying there, staring up at him, your chest getting sore under his arm. 
“What are you doing here?” you ask. He doesn’t answer, just breathes heavily. 
He’s scowling down at you with a fine mist of perspiration along his hairline. He presses his cock against your mound again. Over a long moment of silence, an electric charge passes between your eyes and his.  He slightly tilts his head and looks at your mouth. You reach for the back of his neck and feel the cold sweat under your palm as you pull him down, drawing his face to yours. 
Your mouths meet but don't seal, and you find your lips reaching for his, wanting something to hold, something to suck–but he devours you without granting you any bit of control. You whimper as he kisses you hungrily, hard cock throbbing against your aching clit. He kisses you sloppily, biting your lower lip, dragging his tongue across it to the corner where he pauses and presses his teeth into your cheek and grunts with a slow thrust against you. Then he drags his lips and tongue down your jaw as you tilt your chin up.
He latches onto your neck with an "mm" and his hips begin to grind his thick erection against you at a slow rhythm. He grunts and his breath is humid with a moan against your neck before he latches onto it again. You feel the delicate skin bruising under his mouth while your pussy is gushing wet. You tilt your hips and wrap a leg around him. He groans at your slick, throbbing cunt against his cock. 
He murmurs into your neck, “God damn, you’re a slut for my cock,” then chuckles. “Aren’t ya, kitten?”
He lifts his pelvis off you to massage your cunt aggressively with his hand. You whine and he gives a low whistle.  Then he urgently takes his boxers down and you help him, curling a toe into the waistband once his boxers get down to his thighs.  You drag your foot down between his legs to his feet, taking his boxers with you. . He kicks them off the rest of the way. Before he lays his hips back into you, you reach for his balls, longing to feel the heft of them. It sends a bolt of desire through you. Fuck. 
"What's wrong with you?" You ask, but you're really asking yourself.  You’re asking yourself why you've got this sicko in your bed, someone unhinged enough to break into your house not once but twice and all you want is his cock. 
"Me?" He asks. "the fuck is wrong with you?" He wraps a hand around your throat. “Playin’ games with me,” he growls bitterly. “Ya want it, ya don't, ya want it–” you cough under his grip as he reads your eyes, then he whispers, "want it" with a small nod, and takes his hand away.
He notches his tip at your entrance then breathes, "don't ya?--uggghh" As he shoves into you. “Want it, you’ll get it,” he pants as his cock parts your walls. His cock spreads you wide open as he gives you his full length, and you gasp as he bottoms out. He withdraws a few inches and hangs his head to watch you swallow him back up.  
"God damn," he murmurs.  "Forgot how tight ya were before."  Your clit twitches at the thought of the wrench. 
Then his eyes come to your chest and the ripped shirt he gave you. He moans at the sight of your nipple poking through one of the slashes and he covers it with his mouth as he fucks you.  His wide tongue drags under your nipple and wets the curled edges of the slash in the shirt before his lips seal around your nipple.  He brings his hips back and pushes into you again, sucking and moaning into your tit. Your eyes fixate on his triceps nearly bursting out of his sleeves and that’s the first time it hits you that he was already in sleepwear. He undressed and got in bed with you. God, he’s weird. And you. You're. . . You don't know, but your hands are gliding on their own over his muscular back, feeling him flex as he pounds you. 
You find your fingers curling under the bottom hem of his shirt and he reaches one hand behind his back to help you remove it. You can't see much, but when the angle shifts, the moonlight catches enough to tell you his body has really been through it. When his head dips to your neck again you watch his hulking back muscles and see lines whiter than his skin. At least a dozen, overlapping lashes. You run your hand over it and the slight change in texture makes you wince with the confirmation. No telling how old they are. 
On his front, there’s a short straight line near his shoulder and a longer, thinner one on his side, curving around near his v muscle. Your thumb drifts to that one. Joel shivers at the touch, then slams his hips into you harder. You quickly abandon it, sliding your hand up his side, then to his pec. A wicked smile spreads across half his face as your hand runs across his chest. "Y'ain't scared, are ya?" He asks, breathing heavily with his cock dragging heavily in your dripping wet cunt. 
“No.” You thumb his nipple. 
He lowers himself and lets the weight of his middle onto you with a sigh, still railing his length into you. You wrap both legs around him, and he breathes "yeah, mmmgg baby, yeah" as he fucks you deeper. 
Your nipples go fully erect. "Fuck," he breathes when he feels them.  He grinds against your clit as he fucks you, and you feel a climax looming. The thought crosses your mind whether he's going to kill you one of these days and your chest erupts in goosebumps. Your face feels cold. 
As though reading your mind, he says, “don’t whore around on me” He reads your eyes then adds, "n' you'll be fine," with a small nod, a brief smile, and harsh thrust. 
You can't help but crack a smile at the absurdity of it.  The implied monogamy–on your side, at least. When he registers your amusement, his smile fades into a scowl and his eyes turn black. He grabs your jaw, squeezes it open, and spits in your mouth.  He grabs your hand off his chest and pins both your wrists harshly above you, holding them there with one massive hand as he fucks you harder, angrier. He looks down where your bodies meet, and he watches you take his cock again, breathing heavily, sighing and moaning.
Eventually his sour mood subsides, replaced by renewed marvel at your body. "Sure can take a dick." Your hips lift into him, seeking more pressure for your clit, near the edge.  "Didn't bring my wrench." He glances around your bedroom.  You moan at the thought of him shoving something inside you. Your walls twitch, and the deep groan that leaves his mouth is too much.  You grab his ass and pull him deeper using your hands and your legs.
"Fuck, Joel," you breathe, and a new softness spreads across his face. 
His mouth falls open and he whispers, "yeah, sweetheart." You bite your lip and groan as a huge orgasm seizes you. "Yeah," he whispers and his eyes map your face as your walls clench around him. "oh fuck," he pants as you cum on his cock.  "Fuck," he breathes again, "fuckin love this cunt," he looks you in the eye.  "Ohhhh," he groans and begins to pulse inside you. He lowers his face to your neck again and you keep cumming, your body jerking into his. "Yeah, fuck," he manages into your neck as his balls empty into you. "Mmmmm" he thrusts slowly one more time like he can hardly stand the pleasure. 
He pushes himself back up to look at you and shudders as you squeeze him with an aftershock.
"'s'okay," he whispers and brushes your temple with his thumb. “ruin ya in the mornin'” In the morning? He wants to stay over? "God you're hot," he chuckles, cock still inside you. After a long moment of silence, he slides his cock out of you and you wince at the void. He lays on his stomach and drapes his arm over you. Your heart races and you can only hope he doesn’t feel it. You don’t want him in your bed right now. He's a novelty and he has to stay that way. Yeah it was fun, it’s been fun. It’s fun. You have his stupid drawing on your fridge, like a wild memory, a souvenir. But this. . . this is unsettling.  
You can't get attached to this sicko. But you know better than to try to make him leave.  He gets that look in his eye sometimes, and you just don’t know.  You take deep breaths and try to plot how you’ll get out of this in the morning. You can say you have to work. Yeah, you’ll say you have to work.  Eventually, you drift off under the weight of his arm. 
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Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Love you guys.
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jazzyoranges · 11 months
Text
Harleys in Hawaii
Tara Carpenter x fem!reader
Summary: you’re Tara’s older girlfriend
Words: 4.5k
A/n: listen to harleys in hawaii
Warnings: i didn’t feel like editing or spell checking sorry bout that 💀, age gap (Tara is 22/23, you’re 27), drinking, kissing, fade to black sex, R is implied to dress more masculine, also Scream 6 doesn’t exist cause Anika is alive 😇
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Tara has gone through 3 girlfriends and 5 boyfriends in the span of 5 months. Currently, she’s having an intervention on how and why. Well, the core four’s version of an intervention at least
“Dude, you have to teach me how to get a girlfriend” Chad begs, and Mindy laughs
“Why am I even here? You guys suck at interventions. If anything, this is the opposite of one”
This time, her sister chimes in. “We’re here because you’ve been going through partners like pairs of clothes. Why are you dating all these people?”
“I don’t know!” Tara groans “In the beginning it’s to be fun dating someone, but after a week it feels like a chore”
“Wow, never knew you of all people would have the same mindset of a frat boy” This earns Mindy a slap on her shoulder from Anika, who was cuddled into her
“Shut up Mindy.” the younger Carpenter spits out
“So you date people and drop them ‘cause they don’t give you the thrill of being in a relationship?” Chad says and everyone in the room goes silent. Momentarily, he stops throwing his tennis ball up in the air
“…Did I say something wrong?”
“Never knew you could be smart, Chad”
“Sometimes I wish we weren’t related.”
“Is that it, Tara?” Sam asks “You just want the thrill of dating?”
“When you put it that way, I guess? I dunno, I haven’t really met anyone exciting. You’d think there’d be fun people in New York”
“You just haven’t met the right person, Tara. I’m sure there’s someone for you, you just suck at looking”
“Oh, really? Where am I supposed to look, then?”
“I dunno, definitely not where you’re looking right now” Mindy shrugs, and Tara sighs at how helpful her friends are
You meet you coworker’s sister when her and her friends decide to have a study session at the small coffee shop you and Sam work at. You and the older Carpenter instantly clicked as friends. Sam knew you knew about the Woodsboro killings, but you knew not to trust the media entirely. After a few weeks of talking to her, you didn’t understand how Sam could be accused of such disgusting things
Your friendship solidified when you ‘accidentally’ spilled an ice cream sundae on some girl who was being mean to her. Of course you were fired the next day, but Sam left with you, opting to work at a smaller coffee shop run by a nice old man and his lovely wife
Sam considered you a good friend, and she trusted you with being around her sister. Luckily the old couple who ran the shop were kind and trusting, and let Sam’s sister and friends use the coffee shop after hours for late-night studying. It was maybe about 6:30pm when the shop officially closed, and the study session started. Sam insisted she stay by herself, but you didn’t want her to be lonely while watching her kids friends study
Personally, you thought it was far too late to study, but you also hadn’t been to school in 3 years. Soft music was playing while the group studied and you and Sam cleaned up the shop here and there
Tara tried to focus on her work, she really did. After a few glances in your direction and many “sorry, what did you say?”’s later, Mindy finally decided to comment on Tara’s behavior. I mean, could she really be mad? You were breathtaking. Your shirt hugged your arms and torso just the right way, you hand a very pretty face, most of all, you were-
“Alright, what’s up with you? You’ve been distracted this entire time”
“I’m not distracted, I’m listening” Tara lied straight through her teeth, and Mindy just looked at her in suspicion
“You’ve seemed out of it this entire study session, you okay?” Anika reached to rub Tara’s shoulder
“Uh, y-yeah” Tara turned around in her seat looking for you. When she saw you were either in the break room or the bathroom, Tara leaned in closer to the group and so did her friends
“Sam’s friend is really hot.”
“Understandable” Chad nods
“Definitely ask her out”
“Like hell I am, Mindy!” Tara whisper-shouts
You’re about to leave for the night. Gathering your jacket, helmet, and keys from your locker, you barely make it out of the break room before one of Sam’s friends calls you over
“Hey, Sam’s coworker! Are you good at algebra?
“A little above average, why do you ask? You walk over to the booth they’re studying at. You miss the glare the brunette gives to her friend
Mindy motions to Tara “My friend over here is having a little trouble, and we’re all not really good at explaining. Could you help her?”
“Also,” the twin points at each of her friends “Anika, Chad, Tara, and I’m Mindy”
You pull up a chair to sit next to Tara “Y/N, nice to meet all of you. Sam says lots of good things”
“Likewise, Sam told us about what you did for her. We all appreciate it” Anika smiles
“Those girls were assholes,” you shrug “they deserved it.” Now focusing on Tara, you met her eyes while the rest of the group fell into discussion
“So, what exactly do you need help with?”
Tara tries to listen to what you’re saying, but everything is going in one ear and out the other with your proximity to her. You make simple small talk with Tara, and she notes how the corners of your eyes crinkle when you laugh. The brunette learns you’re about the same age as her sister, you have a second job as a mechanic, and you owned a motorcycle (in which her interest was immediately peaked).
A few hours of conversation and studying later, the group decides they’re finished. They pile into Sam’s car to be dropped off at their respective apartments. Unfortunately due to a little clutter, there isn’t enough room for Tara in the car (which is surprising since she’s incredibly small, but you decide to hold your tongue this time)
“Cmon, guys, can’t you make some room?” the brunette groans
“You could ride with Y/n,” Sam suggests “I trust her to get you home”
“Yeah, I got an extra helmet in my locker, I’ll go get it” You jog back to the shop, and you’re back a minute later with a helmet in one hand, and a hoodie in the other. Your hoodie, Tara thinks
“Here, it gets cold. Is this your first time?”
“Yeah, I’ve never been on a motorcycle before…” Tara says nervously, and she has to stop herself from taking a big whiff of your hoodie around her
“No worries! If you get scared just squeeze my thigh and I’ll pull over, okay? Also, make sure to hold on tight” You put the helmet on Tara, inspecting her to make sure it’s on correctly
“Geez, it feels like I’m an astronaut” Tara laughs, flipping up the visor
“Doesn’t it? I always feel like a bobble head or something when I’m in it” You teach Tara how to get on, and soon enough you’re on the road following Sam’s car
Tara’s arms were snugly wrapped around your torso, and she was absolutely having the time of her life. The helmet she was wearing smelled like you and it was absolutely intoxicating. Not to mention how your hoodie sat comfortably on her body — almost like it was meant for her to wear. Deciding to be bold, Tara decides to hug you tighter
When you two eventually stop at a stoplight, you hold out a thumbs up, questioning if Tara is comfortable. The brunette responds with a thumbs up of her own, and the slow circles she’s making with her thumb under your shirt that leave a trail of goosebumps behind
First Sam stops at Mindy and Anika’s, then Chads. Since there’s more room in the car Tara doesn’t actually need to stay with you, but she’s practically glued to your back. The brunette decides to be greedy and hold on
A few minutes later, you two reach Tara and Sam’s apartment complex. When you come to a stop the younger Carpenter gets off first, and you follow after
“So, how was your first time on a motorcycle? Scary?”
“Honestly? Not really. I trust you won’t crash, or else Sam’ll get real mad at you” Taking off her helmet, you get the pleasure of seeing Tara smile again. She starts to take off your hoodie, but you stop her before she does
“Keep it, I already have a bunch of other hoodies and jackets at my place”
“Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t be saying it if I wasn’t sure, Carpenter”
“You’re an ass” Tara rolls her eyes and playfully hits your arm
“Nice meeting you and your friends, by the way. I’ll see you guys around” After you wave bye and hop back on your motorcycle Tara watches you leave, pulling your hoodie closer to her body
Study sessions at the coffee shop after closing time became more and more regular. Sometimes it’s just Sam closing up, and other times it’s just you. Tara still regrets telling the group about her very tiny minuscule crush on you, since you’re now used as blackmail to get Tara to go anywhere
“Wanna go to the movies?”
“Sorry, I have to finish an essay”
“Y/n’s gonna be there” Mindy says in a sing-song tone
“Fuck you.” Tara groans before grabbing her jacket, fully expecting to be invited for a motorcycle ride from you
At first Tara only saw you during study sessions at the coffee shop. It was the same story almost every time. There wouldn’t be enough room in Sam’s car, you’d drive Tara home, and if she was lucky you’d stop at a 7 Eleven for slushees and a snack
When Sam invites you to a game night with the group, you happily accept the invitation. With a bottle of wine in your left hand, you make some final adjustments to your outfit before knocking. Smoothing out your shirt, you hear a familiar voice behind the door
“So, are you gonna stand there or are you going to knock?” The younger Carpenter teases, and she can practically hear you roll your eyes when you scoff
“I was making myself presentable” You shrug, hearing the click of the door as Tara opens it
“Whatever,” The shorter girl laughs “You’re kinda early so you can wait on the couch or something” She takes the bottle of wine from your hands, setting down on a table
“Geez, don’t people have manners nowadays? I thought it was a given to arrive early”
“I think that’s just you being old”
“You’re mean.” Tara’s face collides with a pillow as she turns around and the brunette can faintly hear you say ‘headshot!’ in an excited voice
“Me? Mean? You just assaulted me!”
“You’ll live. Mario Kart?” You wave a second controller in her direction with the game already booted up, and Tara takes her seat next to you on the floor
The next few minutes are spent casually trash-talking each other. When you get particularly close to winning Tara shoves you to the floor, causing you to lose. A smug grin adorns her face when you throw another pillow at her
“Stop throwing pillows at me!” Tara laughs
“You quite literally shoved me to the floor ‘cause you’re not as good as me”
“Shut up, you’ve have more experience”
“Are you calling me old again?” You say in a dramatic tone, and the door rings a whole 20 minutes after the rest of the group is supposed to show up. Sam lets them in, and you wave hello. Mindy gives Tara a look you don’t recognize, but Chad quickly challenges you to another game of Mario Kart
The twin tried his best, he really did. He took the shortcuts, chose the best character, and even optimized his power-ups. But alas, his efforts were rendered useless as you casually mopped the floor with his ass. The scoreboard with your name at the top is enough for Chad to groan in defeat
“Dude, how are you so good?”
“I guess I just have more experience”
“So you can say it but I can’t?” You end up sticking your tongue out at Tara like a child
“Whatever. You guys got any other games?”
“We have Uno” Sam suggests
Oh how foolish she was.
Arguing, wine, and lots of popcorn later, you’re currently in a battle for 4th place with Tara. Fifteen minutes after Chad won 3rd, both of you insisted a 4th place winner. When you put down a plus four twice in a row, the group only groans
“Please are you two almost done?”
“It’s Uno. How about we play another game?” Chad pleads
“Absolutely not. I refuse to lose to a girl that’s basically half my height.”
“Half your height!? You’ll probably be balding by 30!”
“You take that back!” You slam a hand against the table, and your friends can’t tell if they should intervene or watch the argument play out. They choose the latter
Shallow insults are exchanged between you two and the rest of the group finally understands both of you aren’t serious. They decide to leave you two to pick up some pizza, and you’re far too busy arguing how you’re not going to go bald at 30. Really, whose idea was it to give the most competitive people copious amounts of wine?
Eventually your arguing dies down, leaving you both giggling like middle school kids when they see their crush. The absurdity of the situation paired with the wine you both drank made a very fun combo
“Sorry I said you’d bald by 30” Tara leans onto your shoulder and you lay your head atop hers
“It’s okay. Sorry I said you were half my height… even if it’s true” You smile and Tara hits your arm while suppressing a grin
“You mind if I sleep here tonight? Pretty sure I can’t drive my baby in this state”
“Your baby?”
“My motorcycle. Her name is Elizabeth” You nudge her shoulder
“You named your motorcycle?
“It’s how you create attachment, Tara. You name everything so you care more about it”
“God, you’re a weirdo.” The younger Carpenter leans into you even further
“You never answered my question”
“Hmm… I think Sam wouldn’t mind”
“But would you mind?”
“No, you’re my friend”
A comfortable silence passes between you two. Tara, half asleep on your shoulder; and you, trying to formulate a plan to get Tara in her bed. The only good idea you’ve thought of is carrying her, so that’s what you decide to do
Tara makes a sound then holds onto your shirt as you scoop her up from the couch. There’s a feeling in her stomach she can’t quite place when your arms wrap around her. You’re warm, and Tara only wants to get closer to your body heat
“Tara, honey, where’s your room?” You whisper. The pet name accidentally slips, and you hope the younger girl doesn’t notice.
Oh but she does
Tara notices and opts to bury her head in you chest, pointing in the direction of her room. She can feel her face warm up immediately
You open up the door all the way with your foot, and lay Tara down in her bed. You’re about to leave to probably sleep on the couch, but you feel a hand around your wrist and Tara mumble something sleepily
“You alright, Tar?” You bend down
“Please stay… don’t go.” The younger Carpenter whispers, and you wouldn’t be able to hear her if not your close proximity
“I’ll be in the living room, don’t worry. I don’t drink and drive”
“No, I mean stay here.”
“You… You want me to stay in your room?”
Tara nods.
“I- I don’t know, Tara.” You were hesitant to accept her invitation.
“I won’t be far, I promise”
“I don’t care you’re older than me.”
“W-What?”
“Please, you make me so happy. People my age are so dull…” Tara takes your hand in her own, playing with your fingers
“You don’t mean that, Tar. You’re drunk and tired. How about you get some sleep, hm?” You say in the softest voice you can manage, pushing away the thoughts of how badly you just want to hold Tara in your arms again
“Y/n…” Something in you shifts when the brunette says your name in her sleep-drunk state. You notice the pleading look in her eyes, and it’s difficult to imagine saying no to her
“I can’t say no to you.” You sigh, taking off your jacket before getting in bed. Tara immediately curls up against your chest like it’s the most natural thing ever and you wrap your arms around her waist like it’s second nature
“Thank you. I really like you, Y/n”
“If you end up regretting this I’ll pretend like nothing’s happened if you want”
“No!” Both you and Tara are surprised by her tone
“I- I mean no. I promise I won’t regret this. Regret… you.” She says in a smaller voice
“Do you like me too?” Tara looks up at you with hope in her eyes and your heart melts at the sight
“I don’t know, Tara. Part of me thinks this is wrong, and the other part just wants to spend time with you.”
“Ever since… Amber, you’ve helped me move on” This was the most Tara has opened up about her late girlfriend. Of course the group told you a few tiny things about her here and there, but you hadn’t heard from Tara straight up. You knew this was a very hard and difficult subject even as time continued to pas
“You don’t need to feel like you have to tell me about her, Tara. How about we sleep? You’ll have a clearer mind tomorrow” Pressing a kiss against her forehead, your girlfriend(?) smiles
“…can I wear your shirt?”
“I’m right here, you know”
“I wanna be closer to you”
“Go actually get ready for bed, Tara. I know you don’t wanna sleep with makeup on” The brunette gets up to leave but decides to double back and give you a kiss on the cheek, leaving you a subtle lipstick mark
You hate how she makes you all giddy like a teenager in love.
Getting up to ask Tara if she has an oversized hoodie you could sleep in, you’re caught in the hallway by Sam. You only notice how bad it looks you’re walking out Tara’s room with messy hair, ruffled clothes, and a noticeable kiss on your cheek. You’re quick to wipe it off and smooth out your hair a second later
“Sam, it’s not what it looks like.” You say quickly
“I dunno, it really looks like you’re fucking my sister”
“I-It’s not like that! She- I uh-“
“Listen, I don’t mind you’re dating my sister. Would’ve wished you told me, though”
“That’s the thing! I have no idea what we are” You look behind to look for Tara before turning back to Sam
“She said she really liked me, but then she’s also drunk, but then she also kissed me. What if she doesn’t actually mean it? What if she regrets this? What if-” You’re talking quickly and about to start pacing around before Sam grounds you by holding onto your shoulders
“I trust you, Y/n. You’re my friend. I trust you’ll take good care of my sister”
The older Carpenter gives you a quick hug before leaving to her own room, leaving you staring at nothing as the door to the bathroom clicks open
“Y/n? You alright?” Tara pulls you into a hug, shoving her face in your neck
“Y-Yeah, do you have a hoodie I could sleep in?”
“Mmm… I think I have one in your size” The shorter girl leads you to her closet. A few seconds of searching lands you a hoodie with an album cover you don’t recognize. Tara notices your confusion
“Tyler the creator”
“Is he any good?”
“Well duh, I wouldn’t have him on a hoodie if he wasn’t”
“Okay smart ass, no need to be mean” You feign annoyance and the brunette can only roll her eyes and drag you into bed for the second time this night
Both of you get into position again. Tara’s arms securely wrapped around your torso, and your arms that bring her closer to your neck. You decide it isn’t so bad you’re in love with Tara Carpenter
You and Sam meet the rest of the group at their college. The lovely older couple that ran the coffee shop insisted you two spent time with Tara. They may as well be your parents with how much they treat you and Sam like their own kin. With the rest of the day to spoil Tara, you happily jump onto her with open arms while spewing a slew of praises and compliments
Your girlfriend should probably be embarrassed at how loud your affection is, but it’s New York. Who really cares? When you’re done being yourself, Sam also gives Tara a bear hug
“So, what’re the plans, birthday girl?” Mindy asks
“Honestly? I just wanna spend time with you guys”
“How disgustingly cute. I think that’s a great idea, babe”
“Are you kidding?” Chad speaks up “The last time we all spent time together, you two were fighting for 4th place in Uno. Fourth place!”
“I think you’re being over dramatic, bud”
“You looked like you were about to flip the fucking table when Tara made you draw 12 cards”
“Like I said, stacking is a curse that makes me angry”
“I gotta agree with Chad, here” Sam chimes in “You almost killed Tara because of Jenga”
“It’s not my fault your little sister is a pathological liar and a gaslighter!” The younger Carpenter rolls her eyes
“You’re awfully childish for someone that’s so old” Your girlfriend laughs, making you look away, embarrassed
“It’s not my fault I’m competitive!”
“So, where do you wanna eat out, Tara?” Anika asks “I’ve been starving practically all day”
“Hooters.” The brunette answers almost immediately
“So, birthday girl, what’s it like being 23?”
“A lot like being 22”
“Noting different?”
“Well, this is the first year you’re here to celebrate with me” Tara turns on her side to face you “I guess that’s pretty special”
You copy her actions, now looking at your girlfriend
“Oh yeah? What’s so special about me being here?”
“Please, you really don’t need a bigger ego”
“Aw you’re no fun”
“I’m plenty fun, babe” Tara reaches down to the hem of your shirt, feeling the skin right above your pants
“Mhm, and what type of fun?”
“You’re such a tease.” Your girlfriend rolls her eyes. Both of you are inching closer to each other to close the gap. You blink for half a second, and Tara straddles your lap with a hungry look in her eyes and a smile that highlights her cute dimples
Diving into you, Tara kisses you with fervor and lust. Her kisses are sloppy, but you don’t really care. Currently, the only thing in your mind is Tara’s name on repeat. Both of your clothes are off in only a matter of seconds due to the brunette’s growing eagerness of wanting your fingers inside of her
“A-Are you sure about this?” You mumble in between kisses and pecks
“Absolutely positive, baby.” Your girlfriend’s ever growing wetness smears on the skin of your exposed thigh, making you sigh in delight
“If you don’t want to keep going, just tell me and I’ll-“
“Y/n.” Your head snaps up at the brunette saying your name
“I want this. I want all of you. Drill it into your pretty brain, yeah?” Tara makes an act of lightly drilling her finger into the side of your head, making you laugh
When you kiss Tara for a second time it feels different. Her lips taste sweeter and all you want to do is give her the entire world. Unfortunately you’re only mortal, so you opt to give her a few lot of mind blowing orgasms instead
“So, what’re your plans for the break?”
“We were actually planning a road trip to the beach this weekend to celebrate, and you’re coming”
“No room for debate, huh?” You laugh, swinging an arm over her shoulders “I’ll have to bring my truck, though. Elizabeth is 100% going”
“Sometimes I think you like her more than me”
“You may be my girlfriend, but Elizabeth is my first love” This earns you a punch to the arm via Tara. Although it doesn’t hurt much, you feign a wounded expression and place the back of your hand to your forehead
“Woe is I, for my girlfriend no longer loves me…”
“You’ll be okay” Tara rolls her eyes
“Kiss it better?”
“Please can we have a ride without our helmets?”
“Sam wouldn’t forgive me if we crashed and you weren’t wearing a helmet”
“Please, baby?” Tara uses her best puppy eyes, and she knows they’re working when you look away to resist her charm
“The sunset is beautiful, the back roads are empty, and I want to spend our last moments here on the beach. Don’t you want to see the view, baby?”
You sigh, looking away. This girl was going to be the death of you.
“Well after such a confession, I don’t think I’m able to say anything other than yes” Tara kisses you on the tip of your nose, making it scrunch up just how she liked it
“This is gonna be so aesthetic, babe”
“…Aesthetic?”
“You’re not that old, love”
Before getting on, you take two spare sunglasses from your leather jacket pocket and hold them out for Tara
“Aviator or round?”
“You take the Aviators, I want you to look like one of those guys from Top Gun” Tara takes the sunglasses out of your hand to place them on your face
“Geez, I look more like a biker than a motorcyclist now”
“There’s a difference?”
“I’ll teach you one day. Cmon, the sun’s setting already”
Tara truly believes she’s made it to heaven while you drive. Arms around your waist, the salty breeze, and not to mention the beautiful setting sun. This is what she’s always been craving
Exhilarated is how she’d describe being around you. The simplest touches sent shivers down her spine. The tiniest glances made Tara’s heart giddy with joy. How couldn’t she fall for you? Picture-perfect is what you were. Not boring, not simple, not easy. You were… you
With sand in you hair from previous beach endeavors and a smile wide enough your girlfriend can see just from looking at the back of your head, Tara can’t image herself anywhere but with you
2K notes · View notes
hqbaby · 5 months
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six — i believe you
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mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader
⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.
previous — masterlist — next
word count. 1.7k content. profanity, sukuna is a little gross, reader’s a bit of a menace
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Satoru had heard about you. You had cultivated the perfect image for the public, the diligent, hardworking, sweet girl on the tennis team who had a smile for everyone. Most of them loved you, and those who didn’t were apparently only one conversation with you away from falling head over heels. He’d heard about you, but he didn’t buy it.
He had quite a reputation himself. Some kind of golden boy, a god among mere mortals. But he was well-aware that the whole facade was built on a few bouts of witticism, a few flirtatious jokes, a steady stream of good grades, and nothing more. People liked to believe in the idea of someone, so he never really bought the idea of you.
Until he saw it for himself.
He and Suguru had spent the morning on the basketball court. They’d been on a week-long bender of parties, nights out, and copious amounts of alcohol. Classes were starting up again in a few days and they decided they needed a reset. Get some fresh air. Touch some grass.
They were heading to the locker room when they passed by the tennis court. There was a small crowd gathered, mostly children who couldn’t have been older than ten—and you.
Satoru knew what you looked like. He’d seen you from across the hallway, a few tables away in the cafeteria, on the walkways between buildings. Friends had pointed you out on occasion, launching into gossip about the people you turned down, the matches you’d won over the weekend.
But when he saw you there, right beneath the blazing heat of the last bits of summer sun, crouched in front of a kid who was crying, holding a broken racket, he couldn’t help but think that you looked different. Better than how most people described you. 
Absolutely beautiful.
He must’ve looked stupid when he suddenly came to a stop on the other side of the fence. But he didn’t care. He was watching an angel come down to earth.
You were nodding as the kid cried, explaining what had happened to his racket. When he was done, you ruffled his hair and offered him the gentlest of smiles. You walked over to a bench, took out a racket from a bag, and handed it to the boy.
The kid’s eyes were wide. “But this is yours!” he said, holding the thing in his hands like it was made of gold. “I can’t use this.”
“Who says?” you told the kid playfully, patting him on the back as you steered him in the direction of the other children. “Come on, we’re here to have fun.”
“What are you doing?” Suguru snickered behind him. “You know, watching little kids is creepy. Just saying.”
Satoru shoved his best friend and shushed him. “Will you be quiet for once in your life?”
Suguru slung his arm around his shoulder and sighed. “You’re not gonna get her, you know,” he said. “Many have tried. None have succeeded.”
“Oh, yeah?” Satoru said, walking away. He glanced back at you one more time. You were standing now, calmly telling the kids not to whack each other with balls. “Watch me.”
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“I don’t get it.”
Sukuna trails behind you as you load the grocery cart with boxes of Capri-Sun. The thing is already half-full with loaves of sliced bread, deli meat, and an assortment of vegetables. All of this, he decides, is worth more than what he spends on groceries in a week.
“I told you not to come,” you remind him. “You can fuck off if you want.”
You almost lose your balance as you lift a 24-pack of bottled water, but Sukuna’s quick to grab the thing from your arms and set it down with the rest of the groceries.
He smirks at you, grabbing the handle of the cart before you can get to it. “I dunno, tiger, seems like you need me here.”
You flip him off and march down the aisle to grab a few more things.
“You’re not even getting paid to do this,” he tells you. “Why are you putting so much effort into these kids?”
You shrug, leading him to the register. “They need to eat.”
“Their parents can feed them.”
“Some of them don’t.”
That shuts him up for once.
Sukuna has never questioned the fact that you’re a way better person than he is. He’s known you since high school, he’s watched you volunteer your afternoons to tutor elementary kids, seen you go out of your way to make sure your teachers got the best Christmas gifts, been with you as you attempted to make cupcakes for school bake sales. 
He always brushed it off as things you did to pad your resume, but he always knew it had something to do with you having better intentions than him.
This weekend gig of yours that you started in your second year of college is just another thing on your long list of “good deeds” that Sukuna keeps track of in his head. But he never realized how much thought you put into it until now.
“I can carry that,” you tell him as he grabs the grocery bags from you. “Sukuna, seriously.”
He just shakes his head, sprinting away to your car as you attempt to catch up after him. “Too slow!”
Your best friend has never been the best person. But you’ve always made him want to be.
He loads the groceries into the back of your car and pats himself on the back for a job well-done.
You glare at him as you close the trunk of your car. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”
He boops your nose. “Nope.”
The two of you are about to get into the car when someone calls Sukuna. You both look over at the source of the voice.
A girl.
Pretty with freshly manicured nails, hair in perfectly blown-out waves as she runs over to your best friend. “Baby!” She squeals, pressing herself against his chest. “I haven’t seen you in so long!”
Sukuna tries to place the girl. Someone he met at a party maybe? From one of his classes? A match on one of the many dating apps he’s on?
“Oh, hi,” he says, blanking on the name.
“It’s Mari,” the girl says, fluttering her lashes at him. She pouts, pink lips jutting out as she looks up at him with doe-eyes. “Do you not remember me?”
Mari. Right. 
Yeah, she was a good fuck. Some of the best tits he’s ever seen. He bent her over on a bathroom counter at a rager once and… well, the rest is history.
“‘Course I remember you,” he says, smiling. He pulls himself away from her and looks over at you. You’re grinning, clearly amused by this whole interaction. What a whore, you’re probably thinking about him. “Listen, Mari, I gotta go.”
The girl whines and wraps her arms around his waist. “But why?”
“Yeah, why?” You raise your brows at your best friend, a laugh bubbling beneath your words.
Mari looks at you, barely registering your presence, then looks back at him for an answer.
Sukuna peels himself away from the girl and goes over to you, placing an arm around your shoulder. “This here’s my girl, Mari,” he says. “And we’ve got some errands to do today.”
“Your girl,” Mari says slowly. She looks at you again. It clicks. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Sukuna says, opening the car door for you. “So we gotta go.”
The girl’s eyes scan your body. She takes a moment, probably decides that she’ll get Sukuna back real soon. He’s never been the type to stick to anyone, she knows this. 
“Okay!” she says chirpily, already turning a heel. “See you around, ‘Kunie.”
As soon as Mari’s turned her back, Sukuna’s shoving your laughing form into the car and rushing to the passenger’s seat.
“It’s not funny.” He groans as you double over in laughter.
You wipe the tears of joy from your eyes. “You don’t even remember her name!”
“Shut up.”
“Your face! God, you should see your face!”
“I will kill myself.”
“And the nickname!” You howl. “What did she call you? Oh, fuck, right! ‘Kunie—”
His hand reaches for your chin and pulls your face right in front of his. Your eyes are wide as he tilts his head, leans forward, and… doesn’t kiss you.
“That shut you up, didn’t it?” he says, smirking at the stunned expression on your face.
You push him away and shake your head, starting the car. “You’re so stupid.”
“Yeah, well, you’re annoying,” he says as he leans back in his seat. “And, for the record, I’m not always that much of an asshole with girls.”
“Sure, sure, whatever you say.” You hum, backing the car up. “You know you don’t have to turn them down.”
“What?”
You glance over at him. “Just because you’re helping me with this whole charade,” you tell him. “You don’t have to stop… doing the things you usually do. I don’t mind.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m not doing this for you.”
“Right, because you would rather help me make sandwiches on a Sunday morning than go out with Mari.” You turn the car onto the road. “I’ve never approved of it, but I know who you are, ‘Kuna. I’m under no illusions of us actually playing house.”
Sukuna goes silent. He looks out the window with his arms crossed over his chest, as if he’s in deep thought—but you know him and Sukuna’s never been in deep thought for a second of his life. You’ve probably hit a nerve.
“Sukuna—”
“I’m not gonna let people think you’re getting cheated on so I can get my dick wet,” he tells you. His tone is serious. “I’m still your best friend, and if you think I’m gonna let you get hurt like that—”
“You’re not actually cheating on me though,” you remind him. “This is all for show.”
“I made a promise,” he says. “Let me keep it.”
When you look over at him, he has his eyes on you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Sukuna look this determined before and it almost frightens you.
You swallow. “Okay,” you say. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is what I want.”
“Okay,” you say again. There’s something happening here. Something solemn. Like a promise between two children made in the dead of night. One that no one else can be privy to. One that belongs to just the two of you. 
“Okay, ‘Kuna. I believe you.”
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notes. the burn is so slow but i’m having so much fun with it 😩 you guys are gonna have to love it too you don’t really have a choice 😩 also we’re getting more insight into reader and gojo’s relationship so the angst is gonna hit us like a train real soon
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starboye · 2 months
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imagine spending a slow morning with rafe who doesn't want you to leave for work so you have to bribe him into it
it was an early morning as you woke up to the sound of your alarm going off, you could barely make out what time it was from your half shut eyes that were just getting used to the morning light "can you shut that thing off" rafe says from behind you, his voice husky and groggy ridden with sleep "we gotta get up rafe" you say trying to get out of bed but rafe pulls you right back into his chest.
"your pretty little ass isn't going anywhere" rafe says tightly holding you with one arm as the other rest behind his head "i have to get to work" you chuckle trying to move his arm from you waist "you don't need to work when you got me" rafes groggy voice lifts out of the pillows as he rests his head on you shoulder "i'm not gonna get fired because you wanted to hold me in all morning" you say.
"whats the harm in a man wanting to hold his boyfriend a little longer" rafe says kissing down your neck "well i'll tell you this, if i can get out of bed now that'll give us about 15 minutes in the shower" you smirk "i dunno, how 'bout you explain it to me a little more" rafe taunts you as his hands roam your body.
"me all nice and wet for you and you can fuck me however messy you want because we can shower right after" you say lightly rutting your ass onto his crotch "i like this idea but just know you're definitely gonna have to call in sick for work, because im not stopping till im empty and your full" he whispers in your ear, his voice a little raspy as his hands stop to grope your ass.
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