#so even if you can try to hold me accountable for not trying to escape and instead engaging later
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plsreturnhonouredone · 2 days ago
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𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 - g.satoru
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synopsis. the first years find your old videos burned onto a dvd of you, satoru, shoko, and geto from high school.
wc. 2.7k
tags. gojo x reader, you+shoko+gojo+geto being in the same year and besties, present/past, fluff
a/n. before there's any confusion, i am just reuploading this onto my new account. if you want access to all parts find them here on ao3. i'm no longer a huge fan of how i continued the series so i will be only keeping the first part on tumblr.
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"is it recording?" asked one muffled but familiar voice. the screen was black, the camera covered by something or someone. the pitch was marginally higher than they were used to but yuji and nobara grinned at each other as they recognised the voice of their teacher.
"how can anyone see when you're holding it like that?" this one was more feminine and unfamiliar to the two - but not for megumi who smiled sadly at the laptop screen.
"give it to me idiots," this was another female voice. there was some more chattering in the background but the audio hadn’t been picked up over the rustling of the camera being passed around. then, for a moment, the screen goes completely white as it focused on the figure in front: shoko ieiri. 
she turned the camera around so it was looking at her three peers all wearing the same sheepish grins. "you hadn't even taken off the lens cover." 
“it was satoru’s fault,” the other female sorcerer accused the white haired boy next to her.
“no it wasn’t!” gojo whined, geto on the other side of him stifling a laugh at his childish mannerisms. he looked in disbelief that his best friend was not defending him, “why am i always the scapegoat?”
yuuji paused the video to point at the unknown girl, “who is that?”
megumi hesitated for a brief second before responding, “yn.”
“you knew her?” nobara raised a brow at her dark-haired friend. he was often stoic and kept to himself but they’d been together for several months now and even she could pick up on the uncomfortable change in his demeanour. 
megumi hummed, avoiding eye contact as he stared at the paused screen, “mhm.” you looked happy in the clip, always amused when it came to winding up gojo. he’d seen it with his own two eyes.
“did she leave jujutsu?” yuuji pondered aloud.
“something like that,” he swallowed thickly.
nobara gave megumi’s hand a light squeeze, but didn’t say anything. megumi had initially been against the idea of looking through the dvd to see their teacher’s teenage years at jujutsu high - this explained why.
yuuji, on the other hand, was oblivious to the interaction, more eager to see a young gojo (and nanami too, he hoped). he reached across nobara to unpause the video without another question.
"can we just do what we actually came out here to do?” geto asked in an exasperated tone, but he was clearly smiling as he spun gojo around so the two could go back to back. “who's taller, me or satoru?" the two had been arguing over the fact all morning so it had been shoko to suggest recording it so that there was actual evidence that neither could deny.
before either could stand fully straight against one another, you interrupted with no hesitation, "suguru." gojo’s eyes widened and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at his expression.
"you didn't even look properly!" he threw his hands out dramatically and you shrugged, dismissing his distress.
"didn't need to," you waved a finger up and down, “shorty.”
there was a brief second of back and forth between you and gojo, no actual words being said until his pout lifted into a mischievous smile. that had you spinning on your heel in a futile attempt to try and escape him but it took only three of his strides till he’s got you in his hold, fingers tickling your sides.
“can we go ten minutes without you two flirting?” shoko complained over your laughs from behind the camera, panning over to geto who was shaking his head with a similar look that she undoubtedly wore too.
yuuji’s eyes were blown wide when he paused it again, looking at megumi in disbelief (even nobara had to sneak a glance for an explanation because she’d never seen their teacher so physically close to anyone like that). “sensei had a girlfriend?” 
“sort of,” megumi shrugged.
“oh my-” yuuji begun to exclaim but megumi cut him off by placing a hand over his wide mouth.
“if you ask any more questions, i will turn it off.”
instantaneously, yuuji mimicked zipping his mouth, locking it and throwing the key away, settling back into his seat. the dark-haired teenager unpaused the video.
the clip comes back to life again, gojo with his arms wrapped around your centre as he ceases his tickling in full view. his sleeves are rolled up so it’s visible on camera where you had dug your nails into his skin trying to prise his hands from you (very unsuccessfully, might you add). “that was not flirting. this is flir- ow i just wanted a kiss.” 
the camera dropped as shoko laughed and the video ended several seconds later, the screen swapped back to one full of files and thumbnails. there had to be well over a hundred videos, maybe more, all ranging from a few seconds to even an hour for some. 
nobara scrolled down until she came across a clip with gojo as the thumbnail. this one, she decided.
the video buffered for a brief moment before beginning. this one was outside this time, somewhere on the grounds of the high school. gojo had forgone his uniform jacket once more and his glasses were perched on the edge of his nose as he slightly bent down to hear what was being said.
shoko was the one holding the camera again – as she often was – and the one asking questions, "what's your favourite thing about being a sorcerer?"
gojo pretended to deeply ponder the question, tapping his index finger against his chin thoughtfully. just as he went to answer the question, voices came from behind both of them: two other students began walking towards them from a path on the other side of the open field.
“is that yn and geto?” gojo asked to no one in particular. he held up a finger to shoko as his feet were naturally leading him in the direction of the two people he care for most, “one second.”
shoko panned back to herself, nose scrunched up and a cigarette between her lips. she looked like she was going to complain about gojo’s inability to stay focused on one task at a time when she too got distracted by her friends in the distance. 
"someone's in love," she sung as she spun around, pointing at you and gojo and then her mouth as she pretended to gag. gojo had already presumably checked in on geto and now his whole focus was on making sure you’d come back from the mission in one piece. in the footage he pressed one long kiss to your forehead, hugging you closely to his body. “i need to smoke.”
yuuji was practically squirming in his seat, itching to say something. one sharp look from nobara, however, and he thinks better of it. the orange-haired sorcerer went back to her scrolling, finding a short fifteen second clip that lasted only twenty seconds.
initially, the screen was dark once more as it was being readjusted and then a young male, no older than sixteen came into view with a wide smile. “i’m going to be japan’s strongest sorcerer one day!”
“yu!” you appeared behind him, passing him a soft drink bottle, “of course you are! best the world has ever seen.”
“after me,” geto, who was sat next to haibara, joked as he looked at his junior with a fondness that you shared. there were some more voices and haibara glancing between talking sorcerers but nothing overtly interesting in the final few seconds.
“i have no idea who that was,” megumi admitted, and yuuji nodded nonchalantly like his silence wasn’t killing him. even the dark-haired sorcerer couldn’t stop himself from being somewhat amused by his peer.
megumi was the one to scroll down this time. he was more methodical than nobara had been and looked at several thumbnails before deciding finally on one of you and gojo. he recognised the date underneath as a date gojo had scribbled on the back of a photo that he kept in his wallet.
you were holding the camera this time, pointing it at gojo who was staring up at the clear night sky. it was well past curfew and you were both going to be in for it when yaga found you but the conflict to come could not be felt in the serenity of the fireflies’ buzzing.
“look at how beautiful the stars are,” you said aloud, though you’re entire focus was on your boyfriend in front of you. he turned to agree (and probably tell you some random fact that he knew about one particular constellation) only to catch your sly smile and your heart-eyed stare.
there was a split second as his eyes darted between yours and the camera that he almost appeared… nervous? bashful? but he quickly recovered with an eye roll, “you’re literally blessed to even be in my presence.”
you panned the camera around to yourself where you stared at gojo with a raised eyebrow. “if you can’t handle my rizz just say so.” gojo snorted and you could only keep up the facade for another second before you were giggling too. 
he rolled closer to you so he could lay his head on your chest and you lifted the camera higher to make sure you both stayed within the frame.
“smile toru,” you poked his cheek lightly and pointed up. it was odd for his students to be watching this – to see their powerful sensei with his guard completely down, tired, and in love. gojo did as he was told, ocean blue eyes almost illuminating under the night’s shadow.
it was that moment that he had saved as a photo; gojo smiling up at the camera with his body covering yours whilst you look down with him with more love than he thought he could ever deserve.
“hey! i was watching that,” yuuji complained after megumi pressed escape, cutting the video short.
megumi sniffed lightly, but shrugged it off by giving yuuji a distraction, “you choose the next one.” this was sufficient enough to distract the minor disappointment and yuuji was quick to find one he liked.
“yn’s crying! i wonder what happened,” yuuji hurriedly clicked onto the video, invested in the life of a sorcerer he could never know.
“guess who broke up again,” shoko said in a sing-song tone as you glared at her. she was sat at her desk and you were on her bed, a mountain of used tissues behind you. your face was red and blotchy from tears and you clearly did not want to be recorded right then.
“it’s not funny,” you sniffled, “and it’s just a break.”
you mumbled the last part and shoko deadpanned to the camera, mockingly mouthing what you had just said. “still disrupting my beauty sleep by coming in my room and crying,” she turned in her chair towards you, “believe it or not i don’t just wake up looking this flawless.”
“ha ha,” you uttered sarcastically, “it’s not my fault i love him.”
“you’re seventeen,” shoko dragged out, “there’ll be other ones.”
you stopped your pity party for a brief second to look shoko dead in the eye, “have you seen his bank account? there will not be other ones.” you both broke out into laughter almost instantly, the healing sorcerer agreeing with your argument.
shoko pointed to the camera, “gojo satoru i hope you see this. your girl is a gold digger confirmed.”
the video then gets cut off once a pillow has been launched directly at shoko’s head.
“next one! next one! they have to get back together!” nobara insisted. megumi lets her play the next video, he didn’t tell her about what he knew — that he’d seen you and gojo in love and together well after the video. that you survived the tribulations that came with being a teenager and overcame more as sorcerers than the average couple should have to deal with.
“so it’s been…” shoko held up one finger, then two, then glanced to geto for help.
“three days and six hours,” he recounted, knowing exactly what she was referring to.
“three days and six hours since gojo and yn called it quits and now here they are, making out at an official jujutsu event very not subtly,” shoko informed the camera, swapping the view so that it was in fact exposing your escapades at the formal event. it was nothing overtly raunchy, just gojo pressing you to a wall as he kissed your lips. still, there’s a time and a place.
“are you seriously recording this?” geto asked.
shoko spun the camera to him, “you want the camera on you?”
geto winked, adjusting his tie and leaning back on the bench as he manspread. “i look good right?” shoko shook the camera to say ‘no’ and he shrugged, pulling out a lighter for the cigarette he held between his lips. he lit his and then offered it to shoko.
just as she grabbed the lighter, a loud crash came from the direction that the two of you had been. somehow in the thirty seconds that she had been focused on geto, you two had stopped your kissing session, zenin naoyo had showed up and gojo was throwing punches with the zenin.
geto dropped his cigarette as he quickly raced to help out his best friend. shoko too followed after, running with the camera facing the fight as she called out, “the girls are fighting!”
“i bet sensei won,” yuuji smugly said as the video ended. 
nobara scoffed, taking back control of the laptop as she tried to find their next video, “obviously. he never loses – especially not to zenin naoya.” unable to make a decision with the hundreds to choose from, nobara closed her eyes, scrolled and clicked on a random video.
you and shoko were the two on screen, sat at a table seating on the train. 
“shopping haul!” you held up the bags excitedly and shoko hushed you, pointing to the seats across from you and mouthing ‘they’re sleeping’. you whispered an ‘oops’ and briefly showed a young nanami and haibara resting his head on his shoulder. 
quietly lifting up the three massive bags of shopping the two of you had between yourselves (a difficult task given the rustling of the paper), you began to lay out your items on the table. the both of you took it in turns, shoko showing off the new lighters and lipsticks she’d bought followed by you presenting several tops that you’d probably never get the chance to wear given the fact you were always in uniform.
“why are we stuck so far away when those two are just sleeping?” gojo rudely interrupted your little haul from where he and geto sat. shoko laughed, grabbing the camera to point at the two who were sat facing away two rows down. the train was pretty busy so they’d been lucky to grab the table. gojo and geto were left to fend for themselves.
gojo was peering down the isle, a pout on his lips whilst geto knelt on his chair and held his hands up pleadingly for… you two to kick your two sleeping juniors out of their peaceful seats so they can disturb your peace? there was no way that was happening.
“they’re not allowed on the adult table because they almost got us kicked out of the restaurant,” shoko explained with a tut and you oh-so-solemnly shook your head in disappointment.
the white haired sorcerer rested his head back against the chair, rubbing his brow in a frustrated manner, “the old lady started it.”
geto placed a hand on gojo’s shoulder, waving a middle finger to the camera with the other. “don’t waste your breath, satoru. they probably paid her to trip over your chair.”you and shoko glanced at each other with knowing grins before both of you started mimicking two people kissing with your hands, "mwah mwah mwah, and they're both boys."
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incognit0slut · 8 months ago
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was i stupid to love you?
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in which a lingering glance at Rossi’s wedding threatens your engagement.
content: angst, 4.8k, takes place right after truth or dare (14x15), a lot of dialogue, mention of prison arc, emotional distress, relationship conflict, not proofread a/n: when was the last time you saw me write angst? exactly. this is inspired by malcolm & marie bc i really like the idea of having an argument while moving around the house (also disclaimer i have nothing against JJ i just like being dramatic)
The lock clicks open. The door swings with a creak. Your heels tap against the hardwood in a hollow rhythm that feels almost too loud. There’s a tightness in your chest, that prickling behind your eyes, and a familiar ache pressing up from the pit of your stomach, churning into a faint nausea that you try to ignore. You’re trying to hold it back.
Not here.
Not now.
Spencer doesn’t even look up. The keys slip from his hand with a soft clink as they hit the side table, and he turns away with a quiet sigh that reverberates deep in your bones.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, tossing a glance toward the kitchen. “Think we could order something?”
You trail after him, the sharp click of your heels echoing as you step onto the kitchen tile. “We just came back from a wedding.”
He’s rifling through the cupboard, his fingers brushing over the mismatched mugs and neatly stacked plates before he pulls down two glasses. “I barely ate anything at the reception.”
You watch him, biting back a response as memories flicker to mind. The slice of cake he’d poked at absentmindedly, washing it down with sips of water instead of real food.
It wasn’t hunger he seemed focused on tonight. No, it was his quiet glances across the room you keep on catching from the corner of your eye, and that conversation he’d had at the bar. The one where his posture softened, his gaze so intent you’d found yourself staring at the back of his head, trying not to read too much into it—and obviously failing.
“Why didn’t you eat?”
He shrugs, his back still to you as he fills the glasses with water. “I don’t know,” he says, sounding almost absent, like it’s something he hasn’t really thought about. “I didn’t get around to it, I guess.”
The muscles in your jaw ticks as you bite the inside of your cheeks.
Spencer turns, offering you a glass. “I was thinking of Chinese, or maybe we can check if that Thai place you like is still open.”
You take the glass from him, barely sparing it a glance before setting it back down on the counter. “Whatever you want is fine.”
A subtle crease appears between his brows. “You sure? You usually have some opinion when it comes to food.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You don’t want to eat anything?”
You suppress a sigh. "No. I'm tired."
The soft amber of his eyes dims slightly as he studies you. There's a flicker of uncertainty passing through them before he nods. “Alright,” he concedes. “We don’t have to order anything.”
A faint, humorless laugh escapes you before you can stop it. It tastes bitter, a little unfair, but it slips out before you can pull it back, “You don’t have to change your plans on my account, Spencer.”
“I’m not changing any plans,” he responds. “I’m just making sure you have something to eat in case you’re hungry.”
Your shoes dig uncomfortably into your feet. You shift your weight, starting to pace a few steps back and forth. "It's dinner, you don't have to check on me for every little thing. Do whatever you like."
He blinks, looking genuinely perplexed. "What are you saying? I was trying to be considerate."
"Right. Considerate.”
There’s an unmistakable bite in your tone.
“Yes, because we like doing these things together," he observes, watching your uneasy pacing. "Am I missing something here?”
You shake your head. “Nope.”
"Honey."
The term of endearment lands softly, slipping from his lips like he believes it has the power to melt whatever tension has suddenly crept between you. But it only tightens the knot building in your stomach. It’s stirring the words you’re trying to hold back, tangling them somewhere between your chest and throat.
He calls your name this time, his eyes narrowing into sharp lines. “You’ve been awfully quiet on our way home, and now you’re… honestly, I don’t know why you're acting this way.” His voice dips with a tinge of exasperation. "What’s this really about?"
The words you’ve been biting back feel like a stack of stones in your throat, rising up, up, up, each one pressed tighter by the gnawing nausea in your stomach. You can feel them gathering, and before you know it, they tumble out messily.
“I’m just saying, don’t let me hold you back from getting what you want. I wouldn’t want to stop you from anything—or, god forbid," you add, letting your gaze drift away as if a little distance might soften the blow, “anyone.”
The soft, almost stifled inhale he takes is audible. You don’t even have to look up to see his expression shifting. You’ve known him long enough to recognize the way his shoulders tense, the way his breathing slows as he processes your words. You know his reaction by heart, yet right now, you wonder if saying this was a mistake, if this is the start of something neither of you can take back.
His fingers twitching at his side slip into your line of sight. He's angry.
Maybe this isn’t the time to start a fight.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Your heels click softly as you turn.
“Forget it. I shouldn't have said anything,” you mutter, already moving toward the bedroom that’s been yours, too, for the past year. Although it feels strange tonight, like a space that belongs to someone else. A life you’re not entirely sure you belong in.
“No." His voice is somewhere behind you. “I think you should explain to me what you mean by that.”
You don’t respond, choosing instead to sink onto the edge of the bed, hands fumbling as you try to undo the straps of your heels. You twist the stubborn leather with more force. His shadow fills the doorway.
“Honey.”
Not again.
You decide to ignore him.
“Is there something you’d like to say to me?”
You tug harder at the strap. “No.”
He doesn’t buy it. “You’re clearly bothered by something.”
You shake your head, fingers still fumbling, the leather cutting against your ankle with each pull. “I’m just tired. Can we leave it at that?”
There’s a flicker of frustration in his gaze now, a crease forming between his brows as he studies you. He moves into the room. You barely have the chance to react before he lowers himself, bending one knee to the floor as he reaches toward the strap you’ve been fighting with. “Here, let me—”
“Don’t,” you interrupt, pulling your foot away. “I can do it myself.”
“I know you can. But let me—”
“I can do it myself!”
Your heartbeat thuds loud in your ears, each pulse feeding the frustration that’s wound its way up from your chest. He rises slowly, not a word passing his lips, but the tension radiates off him like heat. He’s close enough that his warmth presses against your skin, although it’s not the kind you usually find comforting. It’s almost suffocating.
You turn your focus back to the stubborn strap, your fingers trembling slightly as you struggle to grip it. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him slipping off his shoes, one after the other, the soft thuds barely audible over the rush of your own heartbeat. He pulls off his suit jacket, carefully smoothing the crumpled fabric before hanging it in the closet. For a moment, it seems like he’s going to let it go… until his gaze drifts back to you.
You can tell his patience is fraying, and you’re proven right when he asks again, “What did you mean by that? When you said you wouldn’t want to stop me from anyone… what was that supposed to mean?”
You finally manage to tug the strap loose. The heel drops to the floor with a muted thump. “It was nothing.”
“I don’t think you’d say something like that if it was nothing.”
Your focus shifts to the other shoe. “Just drop it, Spencer.”
"How am I supposed to drop it when you're implying... whatever it is you're implying?"
You keep your eyes down, wrestling with the strap in silence. He cuts through the quiet before it has a chance to grow.
“Don’t do that,” he says. “Don’t brush it off like it’s nothing when it clearly means something. I need to know why you said that.”
You kick off the other heel and meet his gaze for the first time since you walked into the room. “You really want to know?”
He reaches for his bow tie, yanking it loose it with one hard pull. “Do I want to know why you’re giving me this attitude right now? Yes. Yes, I do.”
Oh. So this is going to be that kind of fight.
You hadn’t expected it to go here. Fights with Spencer are very rare, usually more a clash of misunderstandings that you both laugh about with limbs tangled between sheets by the time you’ve made peace. But seeing him standing there with the tie hanging loosely around his neck and his five o’clock shadow casting an even darker line along his jaw, it hits you differently.
This is real. And this time, you don’t know if brushing it off will fix anything.
“Fine, let’s talk about it then.” You rise from the bed, tension carrying you to your feet. “Emily’s speech tonight.”
His brow furrows, not quite a scowl, more a cautious crease as he processes your tone. “Emily’s speech? What about it?”
“What do you remember of it?”
There’s a slight pause, and you can tell he's clearly caught off guard by the question. “She mentioned how Rossi and Krystal are twin flames."
“Right. Two souls that are always meant to be together.”
His face is still marked by confusion, but there’s something else creeping in. A subtle tightening around his eyes tells you he’s starting to piece it together. “I don’t understand what that has to do with—”
“You looked at JJ the second Emily made that speech,” you cut him off. “Spencer, you didn’t even spare a glance at your future wife because you were too busy making eyes at the woman who’s apparently been in love with you all these years.”
There. You said it. The words that have twisted around your insides all evening are finally out. And maybe they taste a little bitter, but at least they're not choking you anymore.
A second passes, then another, and by the time the fifth heartbeat ticks by, he’s standing there with his hand on his hip.
“That’s not what happened."
“Then what was it?” you demand. "I sat beside you the whole day, you didn't even try to hide it."
“That’s not—you’re twisting things.” His hand moves through his hair, fingers digging in as his curls tumble forward onto his forehead. “And you know what happened that night wasn’t real. It was a forced confession. She was under duress, we both were. JJ and I are just friends.”
You arch an eyebrow. “You look at all your friends like that?”
His hand drops to his side. "I don't know what else you want me to say. JJ said what she did because she thought we might die. She has a family, and a husband who she loves. We already went through this, I don't understand why this is suddenly an issue again."
“Maybe I wouldn’t be bringing this up if you didn’t look at her tonight like you were ready to break up that marriage yourself.”
A flash of shock and anger crosses his features.
“That’s not fair,” he snaps, his voice sharper than you’ve heard in a while. “Do you really think I’d disregard everything I have with you because of a look? Because of a history that has never gone anywhere?”
“I don’t know what to think. It's not like it happened just once, I saw you looking at her the same way at the bar." You step forward, accidentally kicking your discarded heel as you move. "What were you two talking about, anyway?”
He lets out a tight breath. “She was checking in on me. She… we haven’t talked much since then.”
The corners of your mouth pull down. “Mhm. Another round of truth or dare?”
“I can’t believe you’re using that against me." His hair flops forward as he shakes his head, falling messily over his brow. "If there were anything unresolved with JJ, I would’ve said something. But I didn’t, because there’s nothing there."
“And yet, she’s always been an important part of your life, hasn't she?"
He tilts his head. "What are trying to say now?"
Your tongue darts out, briefly brushing your lips. You're not sure you should say it, but it feels like a door has swung open—a door to words that have been waiting for their moment.
You take a slow, deep breath, filling your lungs with as much air as you can.
“When you were in prison, you put her on your visiting list ahead of almost everyone else. Doesn’t that say something about where she stands with you?”
He exhales sharply, dragging a hand over the back of his neck.
“She’s part of the team,” he says, as if he’s trying to spell out something he’s already explained a dozen times. "There were strict rules, I already told you that only a handful of people were allowed to visit. It wasn’t like I could just put anyone on the list.”
“But you could’ve put me on there!”
The familiar burn of tears prickles at the edges of your eyes, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. An explanation or protest is poised on his lips, but you’re already moving, closing the distance with a single, decisive step. A finger lands on his chest.
“I was your girlfriend, Spencer. Were you that determined to keep me out? Was the thought of seeing me really so unbearable? Do you even understand how hard it was to sit at home, knowing you were locked up, feeling completely helpless? Do you have any idea how much I hated myself day after day because I couldn’t do anything to help you?”
Your lips quiver. You feel like your heart is about to leap out of your throat.
“I was out here, just… waiting. Wondering if you were okay, if they were treating you alright, if you even had someone to talk to. And meanwhile, she’s there, with you. Every single time, she’s the one who gets to be by your side.”
Your nail digs into the fabric of his shirt.
“So forgive me if I can’t just let that go. Because when it mattered, it felt like you didn’t want me to be there for you. And now… now I don’t even know if you need me the way you seem to need her.”
Your breathing turns shallow, each inhale catching in your chest. The tears you’ve been holding back are dangerously blurring your vision. You swallow the knot lodged in your throat.
“I need a minute.”
Without another word, you turn and walk out of the room, leaving him standing there in stunned silence. You slip back into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you finally reach for the glass of water that’s been sitting there untouched. You take a sip, barely feeling the cool water on your lips, when you hear his footsteps behind you.
“You think I don’t want you in my life?” he demands. “You think I somehow need her more than I need you?”
You set the glass down. “What part of ‘I need a minute’ do you not understand?”
“You really expect me to wait quietly after you unloaded every doubt you’ve ever had about us?”
You life your chin up. “Yes, I do. I need space to think right now.”
“What more do you want to think about when you’ve already convinced yourself that I’m always going to fall short? Is it so hard to believe that you’re the one I want?”
“You want to know why it’s so damn hard to believe?” You turn towards him. “Because every time I try to let this go, there’s always something. A confession. That—that not-so-subtle look. And when those things happen, it reminds me that I’m not as close to you as she is. I’m fucking tired of feeling like I’m fighting for space in your life.”
“Do you think I want you to feel like that? Do you think I’d go through everything we’ve been through if you didn’t matter to me?”
“Then explain to me why I wasn’t on that list!” you cry out. “Explain to me why, in one of the hardest times of your life, you couldn’t make space for me?”
“Because I was trying to protect you!”
A heavy, dreadful silence falls between you. He takes a step back, his eyelids fluttering shut briefly, and when he opens them again, there’s a softness in his gaze that mirrors the gentleness now threading through his voice.
“I know it probably doesn’t make sense to you, and maybe it never will, but I couldn’t stand the idea of you seeing me like that. Living through it was hard enough, but having you there, seeing me so helpless… It would have crushed me. I didn’t want that to be your memory of me.”
His Adam’s apple dips as he swallows, a quick, almost anxious movement you’ve witnessed countless times.
“And when JJ came to see me,” he continues, “the way the inmates looked at her, the things they said after she left… it was disgusting. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let that happen to you. I couldn’t live with thought of you being subjected to that because of me.”
You lower your head with a sigh. “I don’t care if they looked. I don’t care what they would’ve thought.”
“But I care,” he fires back, taking a step forward. “Because you mean more to me than anyone. All I wanted was to keep you safe, and maybe I didn't handle it right, maybe I made the wrong call... but it was only because I—" His voice drops into an even more gentle note. "Because I love you."
Your heart stumbles, an uneven beat that feels almost bruised, pounding hard against your ribs.
"I-I love you so much. More than I know how to put into words." The ache in your chest sharpens as his hands come up to cup your cheeks. "I don't like fighting with you. I hate it, actually. I hate seeing you look at me like this."
You also hate the way he’s looking at you. There’s a depth to his annoyingly pretty eyes that makes it impossible to hold up your defenses without feeling them crumble. You let your eyes flutter closed.
“Why don’t we… call it a night?” He suggests. “Let’s lie down. We don’t have to talk about this now.”
The blackness behind your eyelids does little to quiet your mind. Nor does his voice. Or his touch. Instead of offering peace, his presence throws every glance, every moment of tension from tonight into sharper relief.
You draw in a breath, trying to find some comfort in his palms against your cheeks. Yet, even this can’t smooth away the doubt that’s settled in. With a resigned sigh, you release the breath you’ve been holding along with the words that have been pressing at the back of your throat.
“You haven’t explained it to me.”
The shadows in his gaze seem to deepen when you open your eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve been going in circles, but you haven’t explained to me what happened tonight,” you say quietly. “Why did you look at her, Spencer?”
His thumb absently strokes your cheek in a way that feels more hesitant than reassuring.
“Be honest with me,” you press. “Was there a part of you, even the tiniest part, that still wanted something with her? Some small part of you that… wondered what it might be like?”
The silence between you presses in from all sides, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator and the distant, muffled ticking of a clock on the wall. It’s the kind of quiet that sharpens even the smallest sounds, yet his lack of response feels like the loudest thing of all.
You pull back from him with an incredulous laugh.
“Unbelievable.” The word barely makes it past your lips, then louder as you start to move, pacing the length of the apartment. “Unbelievable.”
“Wait,” he says, trailing after you, “I didn’t even say anything.”
You stop short by the couch and whip around to face him.
“You didn’t need to! You—you hesitated," you stammer, searching his face for any flicker of denial, but it’s there, plain as day, that split-second of doubt you caught. “That was already an answer.”
He inches closer. A hand closes in on you. “Please—”
You flinch, pulling back, and every muscle in your body tightens. “Don’t. Don’t touch me right now.”
His hand falls to his side. “Please… let me explain."
You watch his hand drop, fingers twitching like they’re not sure if they should retreat or reach out again, but he keeps them there, hovering in some invisible line you’ve drawn. He looks at you with those big, pleading eyes, and for a split second, you almost feel bad for him.
Almost.
A bitter sort of smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. "So now you want to explain?"
He takes that as permission, and his voice comes in low, almost cautious. "When I first started at the BAU, I had… maybe a crush. A passing thing, barely anything, really. But that was fourteen years ago.” His hand scrubs through his hair in a frustrated sweep. “Fourteen years."
Your brows pull into a frown. “Why am I only hearing about this now?”
“Because it was nothing,” he says, almost too quickly. “I was young, it didn’t matter. I didn’t think it was worth bringing up.”
“Oh, I get it now. All those old feelings came rushing back the night she confessed, didn’t they?”
He mirrors your frown, a visible line of tension etching itself between his brows as he protests, “It’s nothing like that.”
“Then what is it?” you press. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks a whole lot like you’re caught between us because some part of you is still hung up on what might’ve been with her."
He shifts uncomfortably, and you notice the muscles in his jaw clenching the moment his gaze falters, dipping away for just a heartbeat before he looks back at you.
“It’s not that I don’t know what I want,” he starts to explain. “I didn’t expect her to say those things, and, yes, it threw me off for a moment. But that doesn’t mean I’m looking back, or that I want her. I want you.”
You shake your head, feeling a tired sort of frustration settle over you, and walk over to the couch. The soft cushions give slightly beneath you as you sink down.
“If you really wanted me, this wouldn’t be happening. You wouldn’t have let her get into your head like that. And now, you expect to believe that none of it meant anything?”
He’s quick to follow, closing the distance in a few tense steps. “It’s not—” His hands flex open and close at his sides. “You’re acting like one single look tonight is enough to decide I’m not committed to you. Do you really think I’d let some confession I didn’t even ask for get in the way of what we have?”
“It’s not just about that single look. It’s the way she could say something and suddenly, you’re pulled back to something you swore you’d put behind you. How am I supposed to feel secure when she still has that power over you?”
“And what am I supposed to do, then? Apologize for things I don’t even feel anymore?”
You flinch at the sharpness in his voice. A low, frustrated noise rumbles in his chest when you don’t respond.
“You’re always going to question me no matter what I say, aren’t you?"
You glance over at him, catching the disheveled strands of hair falling over his forehead, and it pulls you back to that night he came home after that dreadful night. He’d walked in looking worn in a way you’d never seen before, his whole posture weighted down as if he was carrying more than just the fear of being held hostage.
You remember sitting with him on this same couch, fingers brushing his, and asking what was bothering him.
JJ said she loved me.
Your heart lurched, a quick, quiet ache that you tried to swallow down. Really?
Don’t worry. It’s not true.
But with that same haunted look in his eyes right now, you can’t help but wonder if it really was just a well-intentioned lie.
“One glance and you’re accusing me of things that are never going to happen,” he starts again. “Do you really think so little of me? After everything we’ve shared, you really think I’d betray you like that?”
In true honesty, you don’t believe he would ever cross that line. But the doubts still linger, fed by those small hesitations, the moments when his eyes seem somewhere else. It’s not that you think he’d betray you. It’s that a part of him might still be holding onto something he won’t let you see.
“It’s like you don’t know me at all.”
Now those words you might actually believe.
“Maybe I don’t,” you say quietly, eyes drifting to the ring on your finger. You twist it absently, remembering the night he proposed. How he’d stumbled over his words, his cheeks flushing as he tried to make the moment perfect but ended up rambling in that endearing, nervous way of his. You’d laughed, reassured him that it was exactly right, that you didn’t need grand gestures. All you needed was him.
And yet, you don’t think he needs you as much you need him.
A hollow ache settles around your hand as you slip the ring off.
“What are you doing?”
You stare down at the gold band in your palm, blinking back the sting of tears.
“Tell me what you’re doing.”
Panic. Desperation. There’s a sudden rush of melancholy in his voice, a heaviness that wasn’t there a moment ago.
You swallow the lump in your throat. “I don’t know,” you whisper. “I—I don’t know anything right now.”
His face crumples, and in a sudden, almost instinctive movement, he drops down to his knees.
“No, no, you do know me. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. Isn’t this—” he stops, then dips his head, trying to catch your gaze. “Isn’t that what couples do? They argue, they mess things up… but they work through it, right? Right?”
You look down, feeling the cool weight of the ring pressing into your skin.
“Spencer…” you begin. “I trust you. I do, and I’m sorry if I made it seem like I didn’t. But… I need to feel secure. I… I need to know that I don’t have to wonder or worry about where I stand. I never thought you’d be the one to make me doubt that.”
There’s a sharp ache in your chest.
“I didn’t think it could hurt this much. Not from you.”
Your pulse ring in your ear.
“I can’t—” The words catch in your throat, a stinging burn rising as you force them out. “I can’t be your wife when I’m constantly questioning if I have all of you. When I feel like… there’s always a part of you that isn’t mine.”
“I’m yours, honey. I’m always yours.”
“I wish I could believe that.”
There’s a slight falter in his voice. “Don’t—please don’t do this—”
“I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t hurt.”
He falls silent, and for a moment, the only sound is the rough, uneven rhythm of both your breaths filling the space between you. Then, like something inside him finally cracks open, he sinks down, pressing his forehead against your lap. The sudden weight of him forces a broken sob from your throat.
“Please,” he begs, fingers clutching at your sides. His chin presses deep into your thigh. “Tell me how to fix this. I can’t— I can’t lose you.”
“Spence…”
“I love you,” he blurts out, the words tumbling from him in a rush. “I love you.”
But what is love, really? Is it just a word people reach for when they’ve run out of things to say, a way to patch over bruised hearts and broken promises? Or should it feel like something more solid, something that doesn’t leave you questioning or aching? You can’t even tell anymore.
You wonder, too, if maybe you’ve been wrong all along. If this feeling in your chest isn’t love but something dressed up as it, something that fills the gaps while slowly hollowing you out. Because here you are, clinging to a love that somehow makes you feel like you’re both needed and unseen. Everything and nothing all at once.
You feel like a fool.
“I want to go to bed.”
His head lifts from your lap, a flash of surprise darting across his face, as though he hadn’t expected you to say anything at all, let alone that. “Yeah, okay, let’s go to bed. We’ll… we’ll figure this out in the morning.”
“I’d rather be alone.”
The words hit him visibly. His mouth opens, an argument forming there, but he catches himself, letting the silence stretch before he nods slowly.
“Then… I’ll stay out here. On the couch,” he offers softly. “Just… in case you need anything.”
A pang cuts through you at the thought of him stretched out on the couch, his legs too long, his shoulders folded in to fit the cramped space. But the idea of sharing a bed right now feels impossible.
You reach down, holding out the ring towards him.
“No,” he says firmly, gently pushing your hand away. “Don’t do that. This… it doesn’t mean we’re giving up. It just means we need time. That’s all.”
You’re not sure if your mind will change in the morning. The ring presses into your skin, but finally, you close your hand around it, nodding faintly before you peel away from him.
The tears start the moment the bedroom door clicks shut behind you. It spills over in a jagged, helpless cry that sounds nothing like you imagined heartbreak might sound. It’s messy, a kind of aching grief that feels too big for your chest, clawing its way out with no grace at all. You can practically hear how pathetic you sound, and yet you can’t seem to stop.
Even when the hem of your dress trails across the floor. Even when you finally collapse onto his side of the bed. There’s no stopping you. With the ring sitting cold in your hand, your tears keep coming, soaking into the pillow as you cling to the last trace of him woven into the sheets.
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kxsagi · 2 months ago
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Hii! Now that your requests are open I had an idea of what if we were being surprisingly touchy? Like we alr are lmao but hugging him from behind but slipping our fingers under his shirt to rest on his bare skin? I feel like the casual touchy, almost possessiveness would make them uncharacteristically shy and fluster lol, love ur stuff!
“𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐚, 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧’ 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮”
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a/n: thank you so so so much! this is me as a gf literally
and montell fish the man you are
he was the first concert i ever went to and hearing hotel live made me float (title reference)
ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, kaiser michael, shidou ryusei, bachira meguru, ness alexis
isagi yoichi
he’s used to you being affectionate, but nothing this intimate. 
one minute he’s pouring protein powder into a bottle like a gym rat, and the next you’re hugging him from behind, arms slipping under his shirt like you own him. 
your hands are cold and he jumps. 
“hey, what are you doing??” 
absolutely red in the ears. stammers. chokes on air. he’s malfunctioning like a victorian man who was shown a woman’s ankle. 
“m-my skin’s sweaty… you’re gonna catch something???” 
as if you’ll get contagious soccer disease. 
but he secretly likes it. he’ll never admit it, but his heart does backflips when you do this in public. 
your hands under his hoodie? yeah, good luck shaking him off for the next hour because he’s holding onto your wrists and leaning into you now. 
itoshi rin
do not let this man fool you. 
he looks calm, sure. but inside? the mental equivalent of a fire alarm. 
you sneak up while he’s brushing his teeth or standing at the fridge, arms curling around his waist and fingers slipping up under his shirt to rest on his back. 
he stiffens like a cat. 
“what the hell are you doing?” voice low, trying to sound annoyed. 
but his ears are pink and he hasn’t moved an inch to push you off. 
actually, he slightly leans into your touch, even if he grumbles, “you’re clingy.” 
but when you stop doing it one day to mess with him, he literally corners you. 
“… you didn’t touch me today. something wrong?” 
rin.exe can’t function without your casual affection anymore. you’ve ruined him. congrats. 
itoshi sae
honestly, he touches you all the time. hand on thigh, hand on the back of your neck, fingers on your waist. 
but you? getting all possessive and slipping your fingers under his shirt? 
oh. oh. 
that shuts him up real fast. 
like he was mid-sentence, sipping coffee, and then you snuck behind him on the couch and did that. 
“huh?” 
brain rebooting. 
“your hands are warm,” he mutters, staring ahead blankly, trying not to flinch. 
visibly loses the ability to use words for like a minute. 
and then gets annoyingly smug about it. “you’re obsessed with me, huh?” 
(yes. and you show it by keeping your hand on his back like he’s yours.) 
nagi seishiro
you think he’d be chill, right? wrong. 
you sneak up on him while he’s gaming and just rest your fingers under his hoodie while hugging him close. 
his spine straightens. game controller drops. 
“… uhh.” 
for once, he’s not sleepy or lazy. he’s wide awake like someone hit a defibrillator on his soul. 
“that’s kinda… intense,” he mutters, flustered and unsure where to look. 
doesn’t stop you though. 
in fact, the next time, he lifts his hoodie a little so you can slide your hand in easier. 
(he thinks he’s subtle. he is not.) 
clingy nagi unlocked. he now lays on you just so you’ll touch him like that again. 
mikage reo
he’s dramatic about it. 
you hug him from behind and slide your fingers against his skin and this man gasps. 
“baby?? scandalous behavior?? in broad daylight??” 
flails but never actually escapes your grip. 
very red in the face, probably giggles, and you’re like “are you blushing?” 
“NO?? i just wasn’t ready for that???” 
loves it more than his entire bank account. 
next day, he walks around with crop tops or mesh hoodies. 
“just making it easier for you, angel.” 
secretly gets possessive, too. if anyone else hugs you, he’s immediately behind you like, “sorry, her hands are full.” 
kaiser michael
oh you wanna play possessive games? he’s the king. 
or at least he thought he was. 
until you casually hug him from behind while he’s doing his skincare routine and slide your hands under his silk robe like you own him. 
he short circuits. the serum bottle drops. 
“liebling? what do you think you’re doing?” 
fumbles. stutters. glares at his own reflection because his face is visibly RED. 
tries to act smug after five seconds. 
“you can’t keep doing that unless you plan to marry me.” 
starts leaving his robe more open just to see if you’ll do it again. 
he tells everyone you’re obsessed with him, but he’s the one texting “you forgot to touch me today 😕”
shidou ryusei
okay so you do it once. hug him from behind, fingers resting just under his shirt on his skin. 
and now he thinks it’s a game. 
turns into a menace. 
“ooooh ~ babe’s getting handsy ~ should we just skip to second base?” 
you: “ryu, i’m just touching your back.” 
“exactly. second base.” 
but then you catch him off guard. mid-conversation. in front of his teammates. and just casually do it. 
he pauses. jaw clenched. eyes wide. 
"… you’re dangerous." 
turns feral, clings to you like a backpack the whole day. 
if anyone else tries to talk to you: “sorry, can’t hear you over how in love we are. she’s literally touching my soul right now.” 
bachira meguru
he’s always clinging to you. hanging off your back. leaning his full weight on you. wrapping his arms around your waist like a baby koala. 
but when you sneak up behind him, all quiet and deliberate, and slip your hands under his shirt while hugging him? 
he squeaks. 
“EH?!! heeEEYY?!” 
looks over his shoulder like a deer caught mid-dance. 
“you’re touchier than me now, huh? wow, she’s evolving!!” 
fully turns into a cat. headbutts you. grabs your wrists and holds them against his stomach so you can’t pull away. 
“your hands are warm. you’re not allowed to stop. ever. this is mine now.” 
and then he just stands there swaying back and forth like it’s a comfort position. 
if you don’t do it one day, he dramatically goes: “you don’t love me anymore 😔” while fake crying into your shoulder. 
(real talk though, he feels safe when you touch him like that. like someone’s got him.) 
ness alexis
he’s clingy. everyone knows that. he also loves attention and being adored. 
but you? you’re a different kind of chaos. 
he’s walking through the hallway, humming to himself, maybe practicing a soccer spin with an invisible ball, and then BAM. your arms around his waist, fingers slipping up under his tight little training top. 
he SHRIEKS. 
“WHA?! h-hands?? whose hands?? OH. it’s you.” 
tries to act mad about it. turns around with a fake scowl. 
“you could’ve WARNED me! you can’t just… slip your fingers under my shirt like that!! what if someone SAW?!” 
but his face is literally glowing red. he’s so flustered he’s flapping his hands around like a startled chicken. looks like he’s about to combust… but also doesn’t move away. 
if anything, he leans back into your touch like a traitor to his own ego. 
later, you catch him casually stretching with his shirt riding up and he definitely gives you a side glance like: “my stomach’s right here. if you must.” 
turns into an absolute gremlin if you don’t do it for a day. 
“you didn’t touch me today. do you hate me now? has kaiser replaced me??” 
cue you hugging him and putting your hands right under his shirt again. 
he gasps like a princess and melts. 
“o-oh… okay… you’re forgiven…” 
© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢
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hamilando · 2 months ago
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ੈ✩ real housewives of monaco (smau) ੈ✩
pairing : max verstappen x reader
tw : chaos, negligent parenting, side comments, trolling, diet culture, bodyshaming blood, mentions of domestic a!
fc : Yasmin Wijnaldum
a/n :AHHHHH, it's finally out y'all!! you guys don't even know how much drama i have planned for this one - anyways feedback and taglist is always open -
·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚
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liked by maxverstappen, alexandramieux, lando and 1,372,938 others
ynaldum RHOM, EP-1
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user1 did we all collectively see how max had his hand on her waist ALL THE TIME
user2 when they entered the ball-
user3 all the elderly couples were probably regretting
user4 considering the age, do they even have money ?
user5 MAX IS A FOUR TIME WOLRD CHAMPION, YN IS THE HIGHEST PAID MODEL IN EUROPE
user6 love those two for being real in that ballroom
user7 the air was suffocating man
user8 i could see in max's eyes the need to escape
user9 yn probably regrets joining that shitty show lol
user10 at least she and max served looks
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liked by user1, user2, user3 and 723,478 others
huluofficial Episode 1 of RHOM just streamed !!! Did you catch up on the drama?
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user1 DRAMA !?!?!?! MORE LIKE A SOB SHOW
user2 love how all the ladies got emotional over martha's 'struggle' of motherhood while yn was side eyeing
user3 'MOTHERHOOD HAS BEEN A STRUGGLE FOR ME' girl you literally have a mini kelly, with a hermes stroller for your kid, have 3 NANNIES handling your 2 month old who can't even speak or move-
user4 THE ONLY THING HARD FOR HER HAS BEEN THE SURGERY RECOVERY FROM HER TUMMY TUCK MAN
user5 idk martha seems fake man
user6 exactly! like throughout the episode, i haven't seen hold her son once- its always the nannies handling him
user7 and the fact all others are looking at her as if she said philosophical ?
user8 yn was just like let me have my free champagne
user9 THE SIDE NUDGE SHE GAVE
user10 ' you could try carrying your own child instead of your kelly'- I LOVE HER FOR THIS
user11 i feel bad for the son man
user12 she may have struggled with the postpartum thing but hell no on handling the kid man
user13 SHE LITERALLY CONFESSED THAT SHE DOESNT EVEN KNOW HOW TO MAKE THE CHILD WEAR A DIAPER
user14 "it's taxing, handling an infant, and buying there stuff and doing all the duties." MA'AM YOU HAVE THREE NANNIES, A BILLIONAIRE HUSBAND AND YOU'RE CRIBBING ABOUT DUTIES AND MONEY !?
user15 the ONLY thing nice was yn visiting the japan gp for max
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liked by marthasinclair, user1, user and 327,468 others
rhomgossip episode 2 just premiered and what the actual hell in body-shaming?
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user1 did that 60 year oldie just say that!?
user2 ON INTERNATIONAL TELEVISION ?
user3 mate this is straight up body shaming
user4 this is so fucked up
user5 can we just boycott the show ?
user6 THE FACT MARTHA IS LIKING IT AND SUPPORTING THE OLDIE ?
user7 my god, yn is a model, just because she is thin-
user8 probably jealous atp
user9 they can't afford the surgeries like yn
user10 you do realize even if yn got surgeries, NO ONE has the right to comment on her diet or figure
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liked by maxverstappen1, lando, alexandramieux and 1,462,845 others
ynaldum McDonald's after Alexander McQueen
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user1 THE SHADE -
user2 she said not today martha bitch-
user3 girl serving meals and looks
user4 girl just proved dieting is not the only thing to stay like her
user5 it's surgeries
user4 EXCUSE ME !!?!?! HAVE YOU SEEN HER WORKOUTS
user6 you won't survive half and hour
maxverstappen the prettiest ❤️, kfc date ?
ynaldum ofc, be ready in five
user7 MAX CLAP BACK
user8 max said i am not going to watch you defame my women
user9 even i want kfc now
user10 this show has ruined everything
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liked by user1, user2, user3 and 2,469,826 others
f1wags BREAKING NEWS! A source from YN Verstappen's private account has leaked the stories posted by her where she is seen with a face full of bruises. Even as fans observed the shooting of RHOM, YN was seen covering her face and wearing full clothes, covering herself.
view comments
user1 this is jawdropping
user2 WHAT ARE YOU IMPLYING
user3 oh my god max
user4 WHY WOULD SHE POST MAX HITTING HER
user5 the pcitures tho-
user6 this source needs to be slapped, why would you leak that -
user7 i enevr expected max to hit her-
user8 AND THEY CONTINUE SHOOTING !?!?!
user9 this is so messed up ?
user10 the face covering, the clothes it all makes sense
user11 if a girl is wearing full pants and shirt, she is being abused-!?!
user12 YN can wear anything uk ?
user13 but with the timeline...
user14 that is deifnitely punched bruise coming from a boxer
user15 the blood-
user16 max cannot do this, i am pretty sure !?|
user17 DONT TRUST MEN ! WE SAW KIM SOO HYUN RIGHT ?
user18 let yn comment man
et me know if you want to be added or removed to the tg!
permanent tg: @isotopemylove @chair-things @justaf1girl @bibblemiluvr @blushmimi @nikfigueiredo @amz824 @ivegotparticulartaste @raizelchrysanderoctavius @freyathehuntress @piastri-fvx @sadiemack9 @ilivbullyingjeongin @cherry-piee @luvleylisen @sweate-r-weathe-r @jxnellat @loveofmylife12 @budgetcupid @lilaissa @scorpiodiosa @wondergirl101ks @nichmeddar @hoeforlifee @urfavnoirette @lily-ann-b @okcurran @miniboast @teti-menchon0604 @motorsportloverf1 @formula1-motogpfan @capricornito @star73807-blog
series tg: @angstynasty @hiireadstuff @nichmeddar @paigem00 @yettobedetermined7 @f1enthusiast69 @linnygirl09 @blushmimi @sjprongs @bxuzi @cp-27 @nikfigueiredo @sired4urmama @anamiad00msday @f1-33 @allthings-fandoms @reey0w @ale-522 @masomason @exotic-iris13 @msliz
@seungkwannie-lover @ezzi-ln4 @lando-505  @super-delirious @kimnamnu @wondergirl101ks @gondaleila @jenxjar @raynetargaryan2 @i--sa @angelluv16 @midnight-and-books @kacy01 @formulahoney @northpizzasposts @sunshinedaisy21
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jacaerysgf · 1 year ago
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Fighting words
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summary: one of the bracken boys has been hitting on you for days now and youre sick of it. He happens to take it too far with you and your best friend shows you a side of himself you’ve never seen. and you like it. a lot.
Benjicot Blackwood x Fem!Cerwyn!reader | 1.3k wrds
c.w: probably very occ as we dont know like anything abt him in the show 😭😭, slightly smutty, takes place before any battles, not proofread
he wouldn’t leave my mind, so take this 😁
masterlist - requests are open!!
tags: @hxtd
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“No. Leave me alone bracken.” you try to shove him away from you but the bracken boy just grins at you and leans closer into you.
“Oh come on cerwyn, i see how you look at me~” a scoff escapes your lips as you stare at him with disgust. “In your fucking dreams, seriously. Leave me alone.”
You didn’t even know this guys name but he had been bothering you for the last couple days. It had started out small with him trying to invite you to come drink with him and his friends to him offering to carry around your stuff for you when you were walking around.
“theyre arrows bracken.”
“so what? must be heavy for you youre a girl.”
He grossed you out. But didn’t matter even if he didn’t,
“she said no.”
The two of you turn to look at the new voice and a smile creeps up on your face. The bracken boy rolls his eyes as he glares, “the hell do you want blackwood.”
“she said no. Back off.”
youve been friends with the lord of house blackwood for since you were younger and hes always been so kind to you. It seemed to be obvious to everyone other than him that you were madly in love with the young lord but if he did notice he said nothing about it.
You knew of his, angry? or maybe a better word is his more aggressive behavior. You had never even seen it first hand but multiple people have told you first hand accounts of him losing his temper and blowing up, his normal calm and kind demeanor getting lost to rage and blind madness.
You did not know what to think about the rumors then but seeing the way his eyes twitched and his clenched jaw as he stared at the bracken boy the rumors about him became more and more believable.
The bracken boy stands and gets all up in bens face, “What are you gonna do about it huh?”
Ben tilts his head and a look you’ve never seen crosses his eyes as he glares. “Get the fuck out of my sight.” His voice is hard like youve never heard before and it has you holding your breath, waiting for the straining thread to snap.
And the thread snaps the second bracken pushes bens chest and laughs. “what? you upset this ugly bitch wants me more than you-“ It happens before you know it and suddenly the two guys are on the floor and everyone in the room jumps up to look.
you freeze. What in the hells are you supposed to do? so you merely watch as the two boys beat the fuck out of each other. Ben pulls ahead at some point and manages to get a few more punches in after pinning the guy down until the two are pulled apart.
“never talk about her like that, no. never talk to her again or else ill fucking kill you.” He thrashes around in the arms of the two blackwood lads that hold him back as he continues to spit insults at the bracken boy as he gets dragged off and out of the space.
Your legs move before you can even think and your standing in front of him, he freezes and blinks at you rapidly. Hes covered in blood, you cant tell which is his and which is the other guys but he looks badly hurt.
He had done it for you. In your name. And you could barely take how hot you felt but he needed you. “i have supplies in my tent let me fix you up.” the boys oooo’d and ben barely acknowledges them as he nods and allows you to drag him off to your tent.
The boys call after you two with some unsavory choice words but you just turn and flip them off before you continue to help ben to your tent. You place him on your bed cot and try to ignore the racing of your heart as he stays quiet, merely looking at you.
Hes usually quiet but not around you. Its odd to see him like this. So you shakily rummage around with the stuff in your chest as you nervously begin to talk. “thank you for stepping in i was really nervous he wasn’t going to leave me alone, you didn’t meed to-“ you gasp as your spun around and lips lock onto yours with fever.
One of his hands reach behind you and push all your stuff off your table, lifting up you up to sit on it while he kisses you. You gasp against his lips and he takes the opportunity to stick his tongue in your mouth.
Your head is spinning. You can taste the metallic taste of his blood seep into your mouth and it laces its way into your kiss. You fear you’re dreaming. You felt asleep on watch shift again and when you wake this will all just be a dream.
Yet when you grip your hand against his waist he pulls away and winces. You are pulled back to reality and try to pull away to grab your medical supplies that now are all spilled all over the floor but he quickly stops you.
“ben you’re hurt.” “i dont care.” He tries to kiss you again but you dodge it and grip his face in your hands. “ben,” His hand slide around your waist and play with the fabric of your tunic, testing the waters and sliding his hands lower and almost under the tunic you wear. “ben.” you say firmer and he pauses to look at you.
“right now i just need to feel your skin, please.” your heart pounds loudly against your chest and your mouth drops open. “ben,” his name shakily passes your lips and he presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. “How dare he talk to you like that. i should have killed him,” his hands slide under your tunic his hot hands run up and down your bare sides slowly. “he should know i take no disrespect to the future lady of blackwood.”
You kiss him unable to take it anymore and he meets your fever eagerly. arms wrapping around you and pulling you so your chest to chest and you can feel him pressing against your trousers.
His lips trail down your jaw as his hands find your breasts and you let out a moan as he squeezes them in his hands. His lips your neck and he sucks at any skin he can get while he grinds his hips against yours. His hands grow more feverish as he uses his teeth to pull down your tunic to expose more of your collarbone and neck, youre sure to be covered in bruises tomorrow but you cant be bothered with that.
One of his hands trails down your stomach and almost gets to reach under your pants until a horn sounds outside and you both look at each other alarmed.
“ugh fuck me.” “wish i could.” you slap him on the chest as he pulls away and he hisses.
“that hurts.” “if you had let me patch you up it wouldn’t be hurting you idiot.” “you certain didn’t look like you were going to complain. not when i was about to-“ “okay! lets go they need us.” you ignore the sound of his laughter as you flap open your tent and rush out leaving him behind, hoping you look presentable enough your men dont ask questions and pray you can continue what you were doing with ben later.
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ckret2 · 6 months ago
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Chapter 81 of human Bill Cipher not enjoying being the Mystery Shack's prisoner but being even less keen on being the government's prisoner: the feds are snooping around the shack, nobody likes this, and so a family meeting is called to discuss how to send them packing.
####
"I just kept telling him I didn't know anything," said Soos. He was slumped bonelessly on the couch, wiping his sweaty forehead with his sleeve and holding a soda in one shaky hand. "I accidentally said I don't know anything when he asked where he could get lunch in town!"
"You did good, Soos," Stan said. "That's how you handle feds—don't tell 'em anything."
Stan and Ford had called a household meeting, and now everyone was packed into the living room: Soos and the kids on the couch, Stan and Abuelita in the armchairs, Bill and Wendy at the living room table, and Ford out in the entryway so he could pace.
(Everyone was wearing deely boppers. Mabel had had a very productive day.)
Even Waddles and Gompers had been dragged to the mandatory meeting. Gompers had already eaten the pink pompoms off Waddle's deely boppers and was now trying to eat the hem of Dipper's shorts while Dipper tried to push him back from touching the sunburns on his legs.
"What are we gonna do?" Dipper asked. "Last year these guys tried to arrest Stan, and he was still using a fake name back then—so now, the agents could be after Stan or Ford."
"Dial back the pessimism. Right now, they're not after anybody," Bill said. "They're just following up on the eclipse from last week." And a tip about somebody dangerous in the shack. Bill pushed those worries aside. "They don't have any reason to come back!"
"Except the flash drive," Soos said. "Which they know is here. Inside the shack. Cuz they sensed it."
"Right. Yep. Except that," Bill said. "Hey, Dolores—howsabout you whip up one of your special 'welcome to the shack' dinners for them? I'm sure they'd enjoy it just as much as I did."
Dolores nodded thoughtfully. (The tiny sleigh bells on her deely boppers jingles.) "I could," she said. "But what would we do with the bodies?"
"We've got the perfect in-house body disposal! Chop 'em up and feed 'em to the pig."
"Nooo!" Mabel flung her arms protectively over Waddles. He oinked neutrally. "We're not feeding people to Waddles!"
"He'd probably love it!"
"Uh-uh."
"Fine, then the gnomes," Bill said.
Ford said, "Let's call murder 'Plan B.'"
Bill rolled his eye. "All right, smart guy, what's Plan A?"
Ford didn't immediately reply. He paced for another few seconds in the entryway, gathering his thoughts. "There are three ways this could end badly. We have to find a way to prevent all of them," he finally said. "One: the agents discover that there's something under the house and find the portal. Two: the agents remember there's something under the house, and realize they've been brainwashed. Three: the agents retrieve their flash drive, and that reminds them something's under the house."
Stan added, "And if any of those happens, we're both going to jail. Probably Soos too, as an accomplice. Kids might even be in trouble for escaping custody last year." Dipper and Mabel exchanged an alarmed look.
Bill looked at Wendy. "Hey, look who's off the hook." He held up a hand.
"Woo-hoo!" She high-fived him. "We'll visit the rest of you guys in jail."
Mournfully, Mabel asked, "If we get arrested, can you send me crayons?"
"I'll get you one of those boxes with a hundred crayons," Bill said. "And hide a shank in that yellowy green one you never use."
"Thanks."
But if any of those three scenarios came true, that meant government agents crawling all over Bill's portal. Best case scenario, it'd end up halfway across the country in a secret military base. There was tech left in the wreck in the basement that couldn't possibly be synthesized using Earth's current technology, and the Trilazzx Betian ship didn't have backup parts for all of them.
And that wasn't even taking that anonymous tip into account...
"I shouldn't have to go to jail," Ford grumbled. "I wasn't behind the crimes committed in my name, Stanley was."
"Hey," Stan said, "you're the one who impersonated a government agent! Besides, did you really not commit any crimes while building your dumb portal?"
Ford winced. "What's the statute of limitations on burgling radioactive waste?"
"Don't worry, Mothman," Bill called. (Ford self-consciously adjusted his deely boppers, which had paper moths taped to the ends.) "I tossed most of the incriminating evidence in the bottomless pit while you were asleep!"
"Wh— Is that where my lockpicking kit went?!"
"Haha, yeah!" Bill had bought Keyhole's loyalty for the next three hundred years with that.
Wendy waved a hand between Bill and Ford to interrupt their banter. "We can probably keep them from discovering the portal by just not giving them a reason to look behind the vending machine, right?"
"And if we keep them from getting Gompers, they won't get the flash drive," Dipper said.
Mabel said, "What if we put him on a plane to Japan! Do you wanna go to Japan, Gompers?"
Gompers looked at Mabel impassively.
"It's no good," Abuelita said. "It will take weeks to get a passport for the goat."
"Aww."
"There are plenty of ways we can keep their hands off the drive," Ford said. "We could just hide Gompers underground, for instance—there's no way their sensors can reach that far.
Oh no, not when it was clear someone had been down there tinkering with the portal. "Do that and they'll know we did something to hide it! We'll never get rid of them then."
"True," Ford sighed.
Bill said. "I'm most worried about them remembering something on their own. The agents mentioned the portal's gravitational anomalies from last summer—are they remembering something they shouldn't, or did you leave them with those memories?"
Ford hesitated, glancing uncertainly at Stan. Stan shrugged.
"Oh, right. You aren't the expert on how the memory gun operates." Bill rolled his eye toward Wendy. "You see how helpless he is without me around to feed him information?"
"Pshh, shut up. Keep me out of your weird old people academic grudge."
Dryly, Ford said, "Care to enlighten us with your superior knowledge, o god of wisdom?"
No, he really didn't. Not for Ford, anyway. He wouldn't even be grateful for it.
But, under the circumstances—knowing that the agents were after him, too... "Oh, why not," Bill said. "What did you enter in the gun? The exact wording."
Ford frowned, glancing toward the ceiling as he concentrated. "It was... I didn't know exactly how much they knew—I didn't even know which names they knew Stan under—so I tried to make it as broad as possible. I think it said something like 'Pines Household's Secrets'?"
Bill thought that over. "Okay. Okay, yeah, that works. That's perfect, actually—best answer you could have given. You never disappoint, IQ."
Ford was visibly unmoved by the flattery (which was just as well, because Bill had given it out of habit as he slid back into the role of teacher, and had immediately regretted it). "And I suppose you're going to explain why that wording is so important."
"I could," Bill said. "Do you want to know?"
Ford glowered at Bill, lips pressed together in a thin line. Bill stared back, brows arched expectantly. (Wendy looked between the two of them and snorted. Bill pushed her without breaking eye contact with Ford.)
Mabel said, "I wanna know."
"Good enough for me!" Bill hopped from his seat and crossed the living room to a spot where he could address the group more easily. "The memory gun doesn't actually destroy memories, it just severs the connections between those memories and the rest of the brain. Like snipping a squid's tentacles to free it from a squid king."
"What's a squid king?" Soos asked.
"It's like a rat king made of giant squid. It takes at least four to qualify because if their tentacles are knotted in a circle that's just a squid ring," Bill said. "So! Usually you find your own memories by their relationship to other memories. Driving by the grocery store reminds you that you need to go shopping, which reminds you that you're out of straws, which reminds you of when your doctor's eye got gouged out, which reminds you of those vampires in the library, which reminds you of that book you need to return, yadda yadda."
Stan said, "Wait, your doctor got what—?"
"He was fine, he had it coming, and I was nowhere nearby."
"And how's that get you to vampires?!"
"The tangy taste of blood left in your straw. Please hold any other questions to the end!" Bill said. "But, since the memory gun severs a memory from the ones connected to it, you can't be indirectly reminded of it—the chain's been broken. But the memory'sstill there. All it takes is a direct reminder to recall it, and then it starts reattaching to your other memories. Everyone with me so far?" He directed the question in Mabel's direction.
Mabel nodded. Ford opened his mouth to ask a question.
"Great," Bill said. "But! What gets severed is determined by whatever you programmed into the gun. So, for example, if you run into a vampire in the library, then get shot with a memory gun programmed with the word 'Vampires,' there's no more jumping from your doctor to that late book! And you won't remember your vampire encounter if you wander around the library—at most, you might get a sense of deja vu—but you will get back your memory of the whole thing if you run into another vampire!"
He nodded toward Ford. "So 'Pines household's secrets is the best phrase you could've picked. It means they forgot any Pines secrets—including Stanley's criminal record—any household secrets—including the machine in the basement—and since they only forgot the 'secrets,' they can run into anything that isn't secret without recovering their severed memories—like, say, the entire upstairs of the shack."
Slowly, Ford said, "Then that's why they remember last year's gravitational anomalies. The cause is one of our secrets, but the anomalies themselves aren't a secret—they're a matter of public record."
"Bingo," Bill said. "Well! That should be simple enough. Any questions?"
Mabel raised a hand.
Bill pointed at her. "Yes!"
"Are there vampires at the library?"
"Not anymore!"
"Aw."
Dipper asked, "Did you murder your doctor with a straw?"
"I did not and I won't be taking any more questions on the topic, it was a very traumatic experience" for the patient who went in after Bill.
Stan asked, "Why are you wearing a bedsheet for a skirt."
"Because somebody—" Bill shot Soos a dark look, "grabbed all my perfectly clean clothes for laundry day, and left me with a bedsheet and one dirty t-shirt."
Soos chuckled sheepishly. "Whoops. Sorry, dude."
Ford grudgingly raised a hand.
Bill grudgingly said, "What."
"Are squid kings real."
"Yes. As of last summer there were seven with at least fifty giant squid, but two were negotiating a merger so it might be six by now. I haven't had a chance to check!"
"Negotiating a merger? Do—do they combine voluntarily?"
"Oh, sure. In droves. It's a huge honor! The one I'm friends with says the psychic powers are totally worth the eventual zombification—they're ninety percent undead now and haven't regretted it once in five hundred years."
Ford opened his mouth, got stuck between three questions, and didn't manage to settle on one before Abuelita raised a hand.
Bill's attention switched to her. "Yes!"
With an air of patience unwarranted by Bill's actions, Abuelita asked, "Why are you standing on my TV."
Bill looked down. So he was. "This is my lecture podium."
Abuelita's eyes narrowed. Bill cheerfully ignored her. "Any questions about the memory gun?"
There was a general murmured agreement that, no, that part had been pretty clear. Stan snapped, "Now get off the TV."
As Bill hopped down and caught his balance, Wendy said, "So... as long as they don't know any of the shack's secrets and we get the flash drive out of Gompers before they're back, we're cool, right? We can just erase their files and say 'hey, sorry, the goat pooped this out, totally not our fault.' If they don't remember anything, it's not like they've got a reason to keep investigating the shack."
Bill tried to imagine how they'd react if he told them someone had anonymously reported him to the agents. What if they decided scapegoating him could protect the rest of them from the investigation? (And was he sure it wasn't someone in the room who'd reported him?) "Yep! Pretty much! That'd solve our problems!"
"Okay," Wendy said. "Great. So... we're good, right?"
The room studied each other uneasily, everyone waiting for someone else to answer. "Yes," Ford said unconvincingly. "We're good. Er—kids, we need to... discuss the details of... how to handle this. You don't need to stick around." He looked at Stan. Stan gave him a slight nod. (It made the googly eyes on his deely boppers wiggle.)
Dipper and Mabel exchanged a glance. Dipper said, "Are you sure? We could..."
"I'm sure. Maybe you should go upstairs," Ford said. "Leave Gompers here."
Mabel sat up straighter, preparing to argue, and glanced toward Bill; but when Bill shrugged rather than ready to defend her, she sighed and poked Dipper. "C'mon." ("Ow." He pushed her finger away from his sunburned arm.) They left reluctantly, Mabel escorting Waddles along with her.
Ford tilted his head toward the door. "That means you too, Miss Corduroy. Hup hup."
Wendy groaned. "Fine." She slid out of her seat and headed for the door. "Hey Goldie, let me know if anything interesting happens."
"You got it, cool girl."
Soos raised a hand. "Am I one of the kids?"
"Not today," Ford said.
"Aw."
Sensing a change in the atmosphere, Abuelita got to her feet. "I will get dinner started." She shuffled out of the room.
Bill waited until the door shut behind Wendy and he was sure the kids were upstairs; and then asked, "So are we kicking the kids out for the reason I think?"
"Afraid so. Now that the government knows the flash drive is here, they'll be back with a warrant as soon as possible. We can't waste any time." Ford knelt next to Gompers and pulled out a scalpel. "Somebody hold the goat down."
"Whoa!" Stan jumped to his feet. His deely bopper googly eyes rattled in alarm. "Were you just carrying that around?!"
Bill was abruptly reminded of one of the reasons he'd liked Ford. He squatted next to him. "All right, I can see where the drive's lodged, I can tell you where to cut—"
"Dudes!" Soos flung himself across Gompers. 'You can't cut him open! He's like part of the family! He's been eating out of the shack's garbage for years, does that mean nothing to you?!" (Gompers attempted to eat the foam lightning bolts off Soos's deely boppers.)
Bill groaned. "Come on, who cares?! It's not like he's a person anymore!"
The room stared at Bill. Stan said, "Did you say 'anymore'?"
Bill paused. "Forget I said that."
Ford sighed. "Fine, we'll try to find a solution without surgery." (But, Bill thought, he sounded a little disappointed.) "But if we're using a slower method, the agents might be back before we can retrieve the flash drive. We need a way to stop them from finding it."
"Or from finding the door behind the vending machine," Soos said. "Now that they know the drive's been here, they're gonna keep looking until they find it! What if they think it might've fallen behind the vending machine or something?"
"What we need is a distraction," Stan said. "Something that'll keep 'em from searching the shack too thoroughly."
"And ideally, something that will keep them from coming back," Ford said. "They keep returning to Gravity Falls because of the power surges and related gravity anomalies in town, correct? Obviously, the meteor shower story wasn't convincing enough. If we give them an explanation that lets them close the case completely..."
Which was all well and good, except they weren't just looking for power surges and gravity hiccups anymore. They thought somebody in the shack was a threat to national security. Bill had kept suspicion away from himself for the day by pretending to be a tourist, but if the eagles got serious, that wouldn't last long. If they were watching the shack, they'd realize Bill was a resident; and if they tried to investigate him at all, they'd quickly realize they couldn't find any legal records of his existence. Not to put too fine a point on it, but the Theraprism's reincarnation machine hadn't given him the right skin color to get away with that in this country, especially during a witch hunt for a suspected terrorist.
And, worse—what if they did identify him?
He'd heard Agent Trigger say Soos's alien keychains resembled the "real thing." The Bureau of Covert Investigations didn't tell all its agents about all its cases—but it sounded like these two had been to Hangar 618 at least once.
So had Bill.
Over 60 years ago, a military experiment had accidentally ripped open a very small hole to the Nightmare Realm. Not big enough for Bill to squeeze his full self through (HA! Not even close), but big enough to project a hologram through—something solid enough for the soldiers who'd detected the temporary rift to see and touch. And, naturally, they'd hauled his hologram to Hangar 618—the five-sensed suckers thought the projection was his real body—where they hid all their unidentified fallen objects.
It had been fun! He'd gotten to use all his army name puns (Major Pain, General Disarray, Private Shame, etc.), he'd lived out a centuries-old dream of snorting a line of gunpowder, he'd gotten Commander I-Don't-Even-Know-'Er to sing "On Top of Spaghetti" in exchange for Bill agreeing to leave the artillery room, he'd learned a dirty joke from the nurse brought in to assist with his vivisection, he'd introduced himself to half the base...
He'd introduced himself.
Somewhere, probably in some redacted appendix to Project Blue Book, the US military had a file on Bill Cipher—and so did the eagles. They knew his name. Hell, they even had his thumbprints—obviously alien thumbprints, that he'd retained when he reincarnated. Every object in the shack he'd ever touched carried the proof that he was Bill Cipher.
If whoever had sent the Bureau a tip had mentioned his name... Well, there were a lot of Bills in America, but not a lot using the last name "Cipher." There were probably under fifty living humans who knew about the triangle in Hangar 618, but for those who did, hearing that name resurface in Gravity Falls would blow their gelatinous little minds. He was sure they would love to get their hands on him again. He bet they'd be fascinated to find out how a triangle had fit into a human skin.
Getting hauled into a secret government facility had only been fun when his true self was still in the Nightmare Realm and the part of him in captivity had been a projection made of light, dreams, and lethal doses of radiation. Plus, that had been before he really, truly knew what it was like to be a captive. Now, the thought of being hauled back to that interrogation room—with the cheap metal chairs and gray floor and gray walls and stark sharp light—made him nauseous. The idea of being questioned about himself by some arrogant buzzkill in a suit sounded too much like therapy for comfort.
And it would be so much easier for them to keep him from escaping when he was weighed down by flesh.
Nobody was protecting Bill. The Pines weren't above throwing him under the bus if they thought it might save their precious little family from arrest. There was nothing for it. If he wanted to save himself—he had to help.
"Listen," Bill said. "I have an idea. It's iffy, and it'll require you all to trust me a bit..." He paused to give them an opportunity to laugh.
Only Stan chuckled. Good enough for Bill. "But, it might be our best shot."
"Okay," Ford said warily. "What is it."
"Bear with me," Bill said. "I bet I could get the head agent off our case by flirting with him a little."
And that time they laughed at him.
Bill patiently waited. "Okay, okay, ha ha, but the guy's been leering at me the last two days. Ask Wendy, she's the one who noticed! And do you know what his love life looks like? Because I do. Woof. Dry as a bone. That man's married to his work! He's lonelier than Elvis is!"
"Wait," Ford said. "What does that mean? Where's Elvis?"
"Not important. The point is, he's a soft target, he's already into this—" he gestured disdainfully at his human body, "and he's got the loosest lips in the eagles. I make a little small talk, I compliment his mustache and pretend I think working for the government is attractive, I keep him too dazzled to notice what's right in front of his face..." Bill trailed off. "And... that's as far as I've gotten. We'll figure it out as we go! Maybe I just distract him too much to do his job, maybe I strangle him in the bathroom and sell his body parts to half a dozen inhuman vendors in the Crawlspace, I don't know! I'll improvise!"
"It's barely half a plan," Ford said.
"It's the biggest fraction of a plan we have. What do we have to lose?"
"I think he might be on to something," Stan said. "I mean, consider it. Bill's an objectively beautiful woman."
The room stared at him. Bill flipped up his eyepatch to double his stare.
"What! It's just a fact!"
"Aww, Stan." Bill laced his hands together coquettishly and batted his lashes.
"Save it."
"Stanley. I had no idea you felt that way about me—"
"Can it, Cipher! " Stan curled a fist threateningly. Bill winked at him. Stan shuddered. "Eugh. Physical attraction's only gonna carry you so far, demon! Can you attract a man when you're talking to him? Because personally, I find you less appealing every time you open your mouth—and you were in the negatives the first time we met."
Bill thought about that. Bill thought about all his human cultists. Bill thought about all his human cultists whom he'd caught having scandalous dreams about endless staring eyes and cool black hands that buzzed with static and being fully exposed before the golden glory of an ever-watching false sun. Bill thought about that one time he tried to ask one of his sects to at least invite him to his own wedding and wait for him to RSVP before symbolically marrying more cult novitiates to him and they sorta nodded and said "okay" and then went and wedded him to another dozen Cipherwives anyway. "Yeah! Sure! No problem! I attract humans all the time! They can't get enough of this!"
"Okay, but can you attract a human that isn't into freaky space triangle things?"
Bill tapped his index fingers together thoughtfully. "Ummm..."
####
1981
A clubber eyed the hands of the man sitting at the bar beside him.
The man noticed the look and turned toward the clubber, grinning too wide, staring at him with yellowish slitted eyes that seemed to flash in the dim light like a cat's. "Yeah, I know." He drummed his fingers on the bar top. "Six fingers."
The clubber flinched at being caught staring. "Oh—sorry."
"Don't be! It's a built-in conversation starter!" The six-fingered yellow-eyed man laughed. "Hey! Have you ever had six fingers before?"
"Uhh," the clubber said. "Nnno?"
"Would you like to?" The man winked with both eyes, one at a time.
The clubber frowned at him in confusion, and then slowly turned away without answering.
####
"Sure," Bill cheerfully lied. "No problem!"
####
There was a knock on the attic bedroom door. Mabel opened it.
Stan and Ford stood in the doorway with a sulky Bill in between them. Stan pushed Bill into the room and said, "Teach him how to flirt."
Mabel gasped in delight.
####
(Well that took way later than I wanted it to—but it's finally out.
Head's up, I've got two zine deadlines that take priority, my workload triples at the end of the year, and I'm currently preparing the house to welcome home a new baby*, so we might skip next week's chapter. Hopefully not, though; I'd hate to start the new year that way. We'll see.
*it's a snake. the new baby is a boa constrictor.
Let me know what y'all think! I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts.)
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puck-luck · 1 month ago
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hiii can I please request a chai latte with vanilla for quinn? (anal)
xx
psa: having done anal once in my real life (true story), i am not really a person who enjoys it. HOWEVER! i didn't want to ignore this request for the birthday event because it wouldn't be fair for me to say no to JUST this req. SO!! i wrote this and i tried to make it long enough and good enough for y'all to return to in the future, because i believe this is the only fic/blurb i'll write on this account that has to do with anal. it's not for me, so it's hard for me to write. of course, that could always change in the future as my tastes change... but i don't foresee that happening.
i hope this blurb satisfied your request! like i said, i've only done anal once and it was... 7 years ago? i think? so this might not be as accurate as it would be if i practiced this concept more often.
anyway. ENJOY!
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Quinn has had… a weird relationship with your butt. You noticed this a while ago, filing it away in your mind every time that he seems hesitant to lay his hands on you. He always keeps his hands north of your core, respectfully on your waist, even when you’re at home. When it’s just you two, you kind of expect him to knead your ass and slap it and palm it like your other boyfriends did. You have a nice ass, so why doesn’t Quinn touch it?
Last night, with Quinn balls deep in your cunt, you had a realization. You were on top, riding Quinn in reverse cowgirl, and he’d finally touched your behind. He sunk his fingers into the meat of your ass and a breath of air escaped him, almost inaudible but your ears perked up and caught it. He got caught up, pulling your cheeks apart and moaning out loud. Like you wouldn’t notice, his thumb brushed over your unoccupied hole reverently, and then he pulled away.
Oh, you thought as everything clicked into place. So that’s why he won’t touch my ass. He wants it too much.
When you woke up to him rutting his morning wood against your behind, your theory was solidified. He wants it bad. You vowed not to bring it up until the right moment, and the right moment came today. You’re lucky that you went to the store and bought lube, because you’d be damned if you were unprepared when it came time to fulfill Quinn’s fantasy.
You were in bed, getting it on. Quinn was down to his boxers, you were naked. He was sliding his cock through your folds, getting ready to push his tip inside of you, and you’d stopped him.
“I want you to fuck me,” you tell Quinn. He opens his mouth to say that he’s about to, but you press a hand to his mouth. With the other, you reach for the bedside drawer and pull out the bottle of lube, holding it against Quinn’s chest. “From behind.”
Quinn’s brows furrow, his hand rising to take the bottle from you before you let it fall. “From… behind?”
“Well,” you concede, a little coy. “Not exactly.”
Quinn stares at you, looking like he’s caught in headlights. 
“Quinn, I think there’s something you haven’t told me,” you murmur. You reach out and touch his face, scruff tickling your palm. “There’s something you want.”
Quinn stays quiet, but his cheeks grow red. 
“Why don’t we ever do it in doggy, Q?” you ask. When you mulled this over in the shower earlier, you decided that this was the way you wanted to start this conversation. You’re trying to coax it out of him instead of accusing him– you’re not against it. You want Q to have everything he dreams of. He’s so quick to deny himself the simple pleasures of life for one reason or another and you don’t want that to happen again.
He doesn’t reply, so you continue.
“I want you to fuck my ass, Quinn. I want you to.”
“I don’t– I can’t,” Quinn chokes out, finally voicing something. 
You draw your eyebrows together and tilt your head. “Why not?”
“I…” Quinn trails off and grimaces “It’s…”
“It’s what, baby?” You touch his cheek again. “You can tell me.”
“I want to,” Quinn says. “I really, really want to. I just think– I think if I do, it’ll be too…”
“Too…?”
“I’ll like it too much,” Quinn finally admits. “I’ll be too rough. I’ll forget to check in with you, I’ll get so caught up that I might hurt you.”
“Baby, you’d never hurt me,” you reassure him. “If it’s too much, I’ll shout and kick and scream until you let me go. Okay?” You’re teasing a little bit, knowing that it will never get to the point that you’ll have to scream at Quinn to get him to stop. He’s too attentive. Despite his worries, he’s far too attentive to lose himself to pleasure.
Quinn grumbles something under his breath, bothered by your answer.
You catch his hair, lacing your fingers through the strands. “Quinn.”
He looks at you, worry clouding his eyes.
“We’ll go slow. I want this. You want this. If it’s horrible, we’ll just never do it again.” You bring him down to your level and kiss his lips. “We’ll communicate the whole time.”
It takes a moment, but Quinn agrees. You kiss him, hoping that swiping your tongue over his bottom lip and filling his mouth with the muscle will distract him for long enough that he can relax. He stiffens again when you reach for the lube and his hand, uncapping the bottle and squeezing some of the cold gel onto his index finger.
“Please,” you request quietly, feeding the word to him.
Quinn bites his bottom lip and inhales, steeling himself, but when he kisses you again… he’s hungry. It catches you by surprise, then distracts you from the fingertip probing at your back entrance. You gasp slightly when it inches inside, his digit thoroughly moving inside of your body until it no longer faces resistance. That’s when he slicks up his middle finger and pets along your puckered rim, squeezing inside.
It felt weird at first, but then your body got used to it and you started feeling good.
When you’re ready, Quinn slicks himself up and touches his tip to your asshole.
“You’re sure?” he asks breathlessly, pupils blown larger than you’ve ever seen them.
His palms are solid on the underside of your thighs, pushing them back until your legs have nearly connected with your chest. Your cunt is on display, but more pressing is the fact that your crack is exposed. You can feel your hole clenching and winking at Quinn, ready for what he’s going to give you.
“Fuck me, Q,” you repeat. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close. You want him close. You want him right on top of you as you go on this journey together.
It takes time for him to fuck inside of you, stretching you further than you’ve ever been stretched before, even when you lost your virginity for the first time and your cunt spotted for days after. Quinn stays face-to-face with you, your body contorted beneath him, but for all the discomfort… there’s ten times more pleasure. 
Quinn circles your clit with his thumb as he works inside of you, his lips caressing yours until he’s sheathed inside of you.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Quinn curses under his breath, his forehead lined with sweat. He draws himself up to his height, knees digging into the mattress, and he breathes deeply. “Fuck.”
He does something unexpected, then. When he looks back down at you, his eyes go wide. They darken. 
Quinn brings both of his hands to your folds. He spreads your pussy lips apart with his thumbs, looking down at the hole he normally fucks– the hole he normally breeds. Suddenly, he releases a glob of spit and it splatters along your empty entrance. 
He abandons your cunt immediately after and leans over you, either not noticing or not caring that your head is spinning from the blatant marking, drawing his cock halfway out of your ass and forcing it back in. 
It fills you again like a thrust to your g-spot, your body feeling like it’s a lightning rod and Quinn just struck you.
“Oh my God, so tight,” Quinn repeats to himself, wincing from how good your rim feels squeezing his cock. It’s different, but so good, so, so good, and Quinn really might lose himself in the feeling.
He rocks into you, relishing in the moans that start to fall from your lips, and fills your cunt with his middle finger. It’s a tiny intrusion compared to his cock in your back door, but you can feel him moving from both sides. 
You can feel his cock sliding against your walls, the drag rough. You can feel his middle finger petting your wet insides, providing friction where there wasn’t any before. And yet… you can feel the movement of his cock against the line where his middle finger resides and that is delicious. You feel alight, glowing, and Quinn is making helpless noises near your ear.
Your ankle goes over Quinn’s shoulder and he turns his head to kiss the inside of your knee. You could come just from that, that small and gentle touch, but you think that you’re gearing up for the biggest orgasm of your life. Quinn surrounds you, penetrates you from every angle, and you can feel yourself slipping away from reality, entering a liminal space of pure ecstasy.
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sakrafka · 20 days ago
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life update (shop opening, diploma, moving...)
Hey just a little update on what's coming in the next few months! For a short version, you can read the bold text only!
I'm currently finishing university, I'm super busy with my thesis and making my diploma portfolio (my thesis is about the representation of trans people in media btw! Unfortunately it's in Hungarian but google translate translates it pretty well)! My thesis defense is on June 18th and I'm very excited, even though no one will really read it since... it's in Hungarian. I worked so hard on it, it's over 30 pages and it came out so well :-(
Since university is ending, me and my partner (@/lonipacs) are moving out of college where we've been living in the past 4 years. Some of you who have been following me for a while might know that my girlfriend is homeless, since she was abused and had to escape from home (her father almost killed her and her family multiple times and threatened/phisically abused them daily) and she's been living in college full-time and has nowhere else to go. Now we have no choice but to move, but we don't have money at all for rent/food/bills etc. because we couldn't work in the past 1,5 years due to intership/university shit + both of us being chronically ill. Me and my partner together maybe about 700 USD which isn't even enough for one month's rent, so we will have to work extremely hard from July to keep the roof over our heads.
I know I haven't been very active lately on social media, but from July/August I'll officially start working as a full-time freelancer, and I'll be extremely grateful for any kind of support on my work! I'll focus all my energy on posting, shop opening and commissions! I'm very afraid that I won't be able to make a living from my art alone, especially in a country with the highest taxes and inflation :"-) The thought genuinely keeps me up at night, even more so since we don't have a "safety net" we can fall into if anything goes wrong (luckily we have some very good close friends who said we can sleep at their places in case we lose our home, if the worst happens). I wish I could have a "real job" but as a disabled/chronically ill person, I genuinely have no choice but to try make a living from my social media.
I'm genuinely shitting my pants, every day feels extremely stressful, full of tears, anxiety and sleeplessness, but I'm trying to stay positive! I feel extremely grateful for each and one of you who ever supported my work with a purchase, comment or like! I know it's very hard to build up an art account nowadays (not to mention the cost of living has been rising everywhere, and art is a luxury that only a few can afford), and I feel privileged to be in a place where I've already managed to build such a kind and supportive audience!
This is a very hard time for me and my partner, everything is very uncertain and changing, but I'm trying to hold onto my love for her and my faith in my work!
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dejwrld · 1 year ago
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⤷‧₊˚ nanami kento wants another bundle of joy.
┊ •° ੈ ⋆° ┊ warning readers discretion is advised — female reader, female anatomy described, reader is black coded (with descriptors), established relationship (married), oral (f.receiving), pet names (baby), cute couple banter, profanity, missionary position, breeding kink, reader and kento have a daughter named yu (yes she's named after yu haibara), this was a one shot for nanami bday btw, wc: 2.6k, mdni
a repost from my old account, that sadly was a victim of tumblr's label crusade. also can be read on ao3.
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You should have known the talk about another kid was coming. The way he would talk about Yu’s old baby stuff and the importance of hand-me-downs just in case you two would have another bundle of joy. Or the fact that he and your five-year-old daughter Yu would get lost in the department store, just for you to find them in the baby section. Nanami also was becoming very handsy towards you. Outside looking in, anyone would assume that it just was a loving husband showing his wife love. But Nanami was like a hormonal teenager that had just hit puberty. His kisses were deeper, which leads to a makeout session (cue your daughter clearing her throat when she enters the room). Gosh, you couldn’t forget the twinkle in Nanami’s eye as he and you attended a friend’s baby shower as you two watched them open gifts for their child.
Here you were, stumbling and sharing an intense kiss as you entered the home you shared. Hands grasping for each other as you shared kisses that caused your lips to be swollen and for the once lip gloss you were wearing to now be smudged across your lips. You pulled away, breathless and shocked. “Another kid?” You questioned. You just wanted assurance that this is what the blonde-haired man wanted.
“Another kid.” He repeated to you as one of his hands cupped your face while the other was placed on your belly as if it already was a child growing inside of you.
Even if you two weren’t trying for a kid at the moment, you still knew that the pink sundress you wore to the baby shower—hugged your body perfectly was something to always gain your husband’s attention. During the time at the baby shower, Nanami always made it his goal to touch you. From his hand taking comfort on your thighs as you were sitting and socializing to grabbing your hand as you move around your friend’s backyard where the baby shower was set up at. You adored that Nanami couldn’t get enough of your body. He cherished every part of you from the imperfections that you felt insecure about to the striking beauty that had him staring at you with a goofy grin when you weren’t looking. 
You stared up at him searching for any problems in his eyes. Searching for anything that would cause you yourself to back out, but you didn’t find anything. He truly wanted another kid. He wanted your daughter to have a sibling.
His lips begin to kiss your jawline, the kisses went from soft to excited. “Please let me fuck a baby in you [Y/N],” Nanami mumbled against your golden skin. 
“Okay.” was the only thing that escaped your mouth before Nanami threw you over his shoulder to take you to your bedroom. A giggle bounced from the back of your throat at each step he took. You never saw the man so serious about something other than work, but here he was on the mission to make sure he get you pregnant.
When your back felt the fluffiness of your shared bed, it was a wonderful sight to see your husband standing above you. His fingers combed through his hair as he tugged off the pastel pink polo shirt he was wearing. Fingertips tracing down his toned chest as you watched intensely. His chest was toned as could be as if he was sculpted by a Greek god himself. His hands finally traveled down to the waistband of the pants he wore before he’s unbuttoning them. You could see the band to his grey Calvin Klein briefs and the tent in his crotch area. Your skin felt hot feeling Nanami grab a hold of your ankle to drag you closer to the edge of the bed. He brought your ankle up to his mouth, peppering the inside of it with soft kisses. The scent of you lingered up his nostrils and he could only bask in the familiar scent he has smelt for years now. 
“You said you were going to fuck a baby in me, what are you waiting for? You asked with innocence dripping off your tongue. You glanced up at your lust-filled husband through your eyelash while letting your pearly whites graze at your plump lower lip. 
Nanami only let a hum pass by his lips before he’s stepping closer in between your legs after dropping the one he once was kissing upon. His hands danced up the sundress you wore. The heat of the moment only turned you on more causing dampness in the panties you were wearing. The silence from Nanami scared you. Not in a fearful type of way, but you knew that when he didn’t say many words during intercourse, he would be focused on one thing. That thing is to make sure you feel good from head to toe. 
His fingers grasped at the thin fabric of your panties before he’s slowly taking them down your thighs. He soon discarded you of the sundress you were wearing. The crisp air and Nanami’s touch caused goosebumps to adorn your skin quickly. The look he gave you caused your heart to quicken. When he saw your bare body, he always looked at you as if he was falling in love all over again. The gaze was a complete panty soaker for you, it caused you to want him, even more, when you guys made love. 
“It’s not fair that I’m the only one naked here.” You said as your hand reached out to grab a hold of your husband. You lightly brushed against his abs just so you could get a feel of him similar to what he was doing. But he soon pushes your hand away before kneeling in between your thighs. 
His firm grasp upon your thighs before tugging you closer to his face caused a soft gasp to come out of you. He tugged your dress up so that it was around your waist. Your lower half was completely exposed as your heart was thumping against your chest waiting for the next move Nanami was going to make. The growing anticipation caused you to shiver under Nanam’s touch before feeling his soft kitten licks upon your folds. 
You relaxed under his touch with each soaked lick upon your puffy lips. Your head fell back into the fluffiness of your bed as Nanami was in between your thighs. The pornographic sound of him in between your plush thighs. Each delicate suck on your clit and any rough moan Nanami let out while eating you out pushed you further on the edge. Your teeth nibbled at your lower lip holding back a moan before you once felt Nanami tug you closer to his handsome face. Your thighs vibrated when you felt the flat of his tongue traced along the entrance of your pussy. “Gosh, Nanami.” You sighed happily at the way he was in between your thighs. 
As if you cooing his name was the green light, you let out a sudden gasp when you felt his fingers push themselves inside you. The wet squelching noise of him gliding his fingers inward and outward at a beautiful pace instantly caused you to moan. Your back arched off the bed before you felt Nanami’s free hand push back down before he dove right back in between your thighs. As his slim digits curled inside you, his tongue brushes against your clit in a teasing manner. His brown eyes glanced at your fucked out expression while your fingers grasped at the sheets below your naked body. His nose rubs at your soft skin with each flick of his tongue. Your orgasm was nearing and the way his tongue was moving was only pushing you further from being a cumming mess.
With Nanami’s slender fingers inside you, while his tongue flickered at your tongue, you could feel the wetness below you that stained your sheets. Your orgasm was screaming to come out as you attempted to run away from Nanami’s explicit touch. He only pulled you back and pinned you down to continue what he was doing (uninterrupted this time).Your slick coating his middle and index finger with each curl inside of you. As soon as you met his brown eyes, the fierce feeling in the pit of your stomach burst. Your head fell back in complete bliss as you sob for Nanami. 
You were seeing stars with each delicate whimper that you let out. Your fingers intertwined in Nanami’s blonde hair while your hips bucked through the passionate orgasm you were experiencing. Nanami’s mouth still lapped up every droplet of your wetness as if he was a starving man. The pad of his thumb rubbed comforting circles on your thighs—it was a kind gesture to help soothe the electrifying feeling of your orgasm being pushed upon you so soon. He removed his mouth from your pussy with a pop. The addicting taste of you on his tongue while his lips dragged hunger-filled kisses on the inside your thighs before he’s standing up fully. 
If you looked closely you could point out that his bulge indicating how hard he was grew. You quickly gained your composure as you backed yourself further on the bed, your legs quivering with each movement. But you still ached for more. You could hear Nanami tugging off the remaining clothes that were blocking you from seeing his naked body that you’ve seen so many times. 
When the time came for you and Nanami to finally intertwine with each other, you felt so many emotions hit you at once. The feeling of love with the way he caressed your thighs with soothing circles as he lined himself up to your entrance. You felt hopeful that after this you would have the satisfaction to carry yet another bundle of joy that you were so proud of to be raised with such a wonderful man. Your nails dug into his forearm as your lips gasped apart with each shove of Nanam’s hips. The intense feeling of his cock stretching you out bit by bit only caused you to choke up a whimper. 
Nanami stared down at you with worry in his eyes. His brown-colored eyes look into yours before he’s crashing his lips upon your gasping ones, “I got you, baby, just relax.” He mumbles against your lips. “I always got you.” 
His easeful tone and even more comforting words caused your body to relax. Soon your body relaxed and felt like you were on cloud night. The astonishing feeling of Nanami’s hips bucking forward caused your eyes to lolly in the back of your head. Breaking apart from the kiss to moan out his name like a sweet tune playing on a Sunday morning. Once Nanami heard his name fall off your tongue, it was as if a light switch was turned on. His hips pushed forward quicker. His hands quickly spread your thighs apart even further just so the tip of his cock could hit that spot that caused your pedicured toes to curl. 
“Fuck—you feel so good,” Nanami uttered through breathy groans. Slow and sensual strokes were always the start of Nanami making you feel good before he turned into a madman that drove you insane. 
He took the enjoyment of having you whine out for more like a desperate cat in heat and soon giving you just that until you’re begging for him to let you cum under his strong body.  His lips dragged kisses upon your neck as you felt his thrusts become quicker. The sound of the bed's wooden headboard was attempting to overpower the pornographic sound of skin slapping against each other. Your eyes fluttered open to glance up to see Nanami hovering over you. The beautiful sight of seeing the way his teeth chafed upon his lower lip holding back a moan and his cheeks stained red due to the pleasurable sensation of the way your cunt wrapped around him. He was so handsome in a state like this. 
Nanami’s hand reached above to grasp at the headboard, not particularly stopping it from knocking against the wall—but to help himself move at a rhythmic pace. He felt your legs snake around his waist completely trapping in the trace of being balls deep inside of you. It was as if you sense that he was about to cum. His body felt hot instantly as beads of sweat decorated his forehead. The salty droplets caused some of his blond hair to stamp upon his forehead. His hand grasped the headboard as he only stuttered out sweet nothings and praise about you. 
Something along the lines of, you look so beautiful y/n or you’ll look so gorgeous pregnant with his child. You couldn’t tell due to your constant moaning. The sensational feeling of your orgasm slowly tugging you further and further towards the light. Your legs locked around Nanami’s waist so tightly that you were sure he could feel the heel of your foot tap at his bottom with each thrust. As your orgasm came upon you, the one hand that was holding upon the headboard intertwined with yours completely entrapping you upon his thrusts through your orgasm. 
“Kento!” You snarled out his name. Fingernails digging into his skin wanting to feel his body some more even though you two were around practically insufferable with each other.
“Shit—I’m so close sweetheart. Just hold on a lil longer.” Nanami breathed out as he was nearly going insane with the way your pussy quivered around him. 
It didn’t long before Nanami was releasing himself with a quickness. Whiny moans and stuttered words were the only things you could hear from your husband. Your fingers intertwined with each other’s as you could feel Nanami’s cum inside you, a feeling you’ve felt many times before even when you weren’t trying for a baby. Your mouth gaped open before Nanami enclosed the breathy moans that you let out with a passionate kiss. The taste of him imprinted your tongue as you brought him closer basking in the moment of feeling him inside of you. The warm feeling of his cum being inside you caused you to moan in the kiss as you felt yourself flutter around his cock. Both of you cumming at the same time, making it a perfect opportunity to relish the perfect moment you two shared. 
When the both of you were tugging out the temporary feeling of your sweet ecstasy, Nanami plopped down next to you. Your legs felt numb, you felt stuffed and you could feel the love bites Nanami placed upon your shoulder. Your eyes barely were open as you lay on your back. Completely dazed and possibly still dickmatized from the feeling of Nanami being inside of you. Nanami’s cum inside of you as you hoped you two did got the job done to give Yu another sibling. You could feel Nanami's head in the crook of your neck, his lips kissing at the small trail of bite marks he left on your body which caused you to close your eyes in complete bliss.
“Hopefully, the first time was it.” You would mumble and could hear Nanami chuckle. 
“If you remember, with Yu it took the fourth time and it was at my job Christmas party,” Nanami answered, gaining a groan from you.
“Seriously?” You questioned. 
“Seriously. I remember because I had to cover your mouth with my hand to muffle your moans.” Nanami pointed out as his fingers were tracing little shapes on your naked skin. 
You didn’t recall Nanami fucking you four times to conceive Yu. Perhaps it was due to him fucking you senseless a few minutes ago that caused your brain to go fuzzy.
“Three more times to go,” Nanami smirked as he once again kissed your skin.
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absurdthirst · 10 months ago
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Fucking Fungus {Joel Miller x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 6k
Warnings: SEX POLLEN, dub con, post apocalyptic world, scavenging, guilt, shame, desire, Joel having a bad attitude, mentions of periods, rough sex, neediness, unprotected sex, cream pie
Comments: Coming across Wymore, NE, you hoped to find some much needed supplies for the coming winter but you find that the fungus has mutated in dangerous and frightening ways. Needing to insure that there are more hosts to infect in a very basic kind of way.
🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉Happy Birthday @storiesofthefandomlovers!!!! I love you and hope you have the best damn day! In thotty tradition, here is a sex pollen to celebrate another year around the sun!🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉
**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.
|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||
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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
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The world has changed in the past twenty years. None of it for the betterment of humanity. The crunch of the dried leaves grinds under your boots and your head rotates left and then right as you watch, listen. Waiting for any sign of life or more importantly, danger. The weight of your rifle is heavy in your hands, although you hold it down, unassuming but ready to be lifted at a second’s notice. 
“I don’t know why you don’t just hook it over your shoulder.” Ellie snorts, her backpack bouncing slightly on her back from the steps that seem so unencumbered by worry. Why should she worry when there are two fully armed adults on either side of her. Her own personal guard in a manner of speaking. “There hasn’t been anything out here for daaaaaays.” She drags the word out like it's the most horrible thing in the world that it’s been peaceful. 
Joel snorts, rolling his eyes as you glance over at him and then look back out at the surrounding terrain. “Yeah, that’s why we are on guard.” He grunts, even though his own rifle is on his shoulder. His hand gripped the shoulder sling loosely but he had only just put it up there half an hour ago after you had taken your turn relaxing as much as you can. “it’s too fucking quiet.” 
He’s right. After the disasters that had been Kansas City, you had tried to avoid major cities, but even in the small towns, you had come across plenty of cordyceps and clickers. You hate the clickers with a passion.
The isolation can account for a lot of the silence. Miles stretching between remnants of civilization. The crumbling buildings and overgrown roads give the entire midwest a sense of peace. It’s unnerving. 
Your grip adjusts, head rolling around your shoulders slightly to try to loosen the knot that builds up in your shoulders after so long. The weight of your pack isn’t as heavy as it should be, the rations not exactly filling since you had to escape that one clicker in Du Bois, Nebraska. Your pack had been ripped and most of the food you had been carrying was lost. 
You glance over at Joel, noticing the way his shoulders seem to hang, almost a reflection of the way you feel. “We need to risk a larger town.” You murmur quietly, knowing that his first instinct will be to argue with you. You stumble slightly over a rock and hiss when you feel the hole in the sole of your boots. 
“Too dangerous.” Joel snorts, shaking his head even as he watches you regain your footing. “I’ve got some duct tape in my bag.” He reminds you, knowing that you should probably reinforce that shoe before you lose the sole all together. 
“It’s not just shoes.” You protest, trying to ignore the way that Ellie groans obnoxiously loud and stomps her foot. 
“Come on, man!” She throws her own arguments into the ring. “I need tampons! We could find them if there was jack shit out here, but there’s not. Do you want me to attract wild animals?” She presses, glaring at Joel who looks equal parts horrified and unconvinced. She cracks an evil grin. “Circling us in the wild as I just leave behind a trail of blood? Aaaaand tears.” She adds, lifting her brows. “Periods are really emotional things.” 
Biting your lip to keep from snorting, you watch as Joel; normally stoic, no bullshit Joel, can’t seem to string together the words to respond. His eyes slide over to you, almost pleading with you to say something. 
Your brows lift in question and he twitches slightly, his dark eyes unhappy with you not immediately jumping in to save him. “We could use the food if we can find any.” You rationalize, smirking when his brows pinch together and he looks like he had just been betrayed. 
“Clean underwear!” Ellie adds. “Or….cleaner. And a heavier fucking coat.” She shivers slightly and you can see that is the moment when Joel caves. He acts like a prick most of the time, but he’s got a soft spot for the kid. He won’t admit, maybe not even to himself, but he looks over at the faded and nearly rusted out sign. 
You continue walking, not pressing any more and you can hear the grumbling thoughts that are rolling through Joel’s mind. The now half hearted protests about why this is such a bad idea but you wait for the sigh. 
Almost even with the sign is when it comes, heavy and it sounds almost pained. Like he is going against everything he believes in. “Stop.” He huffs, shuffling to pull his bag off his back and kneeling down with a groan and the small pops of fifty plus year old knees. Unzipping the pocket where he keeps the Atlas and flips the worn pages to Nebraska. Glancing back at the road behind you and then at the sign before looking at the map. Tracing the route that you had already traveled before looking ahead at the towns that were on highway 77. 
Ellie doesn’t say a word but she practically bounces on her toes as she waits for his decision. You know that he’s going to agree, it’s just a matter of which town he chooses. He knows the truth of the situation. Winter is going to come quicker than any of you want, your food supply is low, you could probably all use a new set of boots, and all of you would kill for a halfway decent musty mattress to sleep on. Four walls and a hopefully non-leaking roof over your heads would be the icing on the cake. 
“Wymore is coming up in fifty-eight miles.” He taps the map and looks up at you to see what you think. 
Ellie shuffles slightly and instead of grinning, you crane your neck to look at the map yourself. “It looks like it’s bigger than the last few towns, but at least it’s not like we are running into Lincoln.” You hum before you nod. “I say we try.”
“Yessssss!” The teenager pumps her fist in excitement and she grins when Joel rolls his eyes. You’ve noticed that like any normal teenager, her favorite activity is annoying any kind of parental unit and pushing boundaries. This applies to Joel whether or not he likes it. “I want to find another joke book too.” 
Joel groans but you just turn around, grinning yourself as Joel mumbles under his breath, stuffing the map back in his pack and zipping it up. Joel and Ellie are alike in a lot of ways, especially their penchant for mumbling. 
You resist the urge to offer him a hand up, knowing he will be even more pissy if you do. For someone who complains about being older, he gets downright grouchy when he’s reminded of that same fact. “Well then, the quicker we get there, the quicker we don’t have to hear ‘are we there yet?’.” You snort, making Ellie grin shamelessly as she shrugs, knowing she will do exactly that. 
“So let’s get going.” She doesn’t wait for anyone, just setting off down the road and leaving the two of you to catch up with her. 
****
It takes you nearly three days to get to Wymore. All of you are tired, but Joel is the one who barely sleeps, even when you force him to lay down. It’s as if he cannot stop trying to protect Ellie, and also you, long enough for him to rest. He gets upset when he has to sleep, staying up until he is nodding off. The coffee supply has been exhausted and it’s probably a good thing. He would drink it all day to the point where his hands would shake from too much caffeine. Still he just wouldn’t trust you to make sure that no one snuck up on you for a few hours until he was past the point of being useless. 
The first signs of the town are a welcomed relief but it’s also an added source of tension. Each mile that you had traveled had added to the fear that this might be the time that you fail. That something goes wrong and someone else dies. The road here has not been easy and the losses have weighed heavily on all of you. Joel still won’t even mention Tess and you hate it when you wake up in the early morning hours to find him staring down at the broken face of his watch with a look that breaks your heart. 
Every approach into a new area can mean danger, either from the clickers or from humans and honestly you don’t know which one you fear more. Your gun is back in your hand, the weight of it familiar and comforting as you pass the first gas station, the windows busted out and dried fungus clinging to the building. 
“Fuck.” You hiss, uneasy at the presence of the fungal vines, even if they look like they aren’t active.
“I wonder why it looks pink.” Ellie frowns as she squints at the building. “It’s usually an ugly brown color, right?” She looks towards Joel for confirmation, but he’s busy frowning at the building himself. 
“Maybe this isn’t a good idea.” If the cordyceps have spread this far out of town then there’s a possibility there are still active branches closer to the supplies that you are looking for. 
“Come on man.” Ellie groans, kicking a dirt clod. “There’s nothing for miles. It’s probably all dead.” 
You know that Ellie is probably right, but it’s a risk. You bite your lip, looking over at Joel. “Why don’t we sweep the town and we can see?” You ask, knowing that if everything is dead, you could desperately use the rest. Cordyceps rarely return en masse when the vines have withered and died. It could be a safe place to recharge and for Joel to sleep for more than ten minutes at a time. 
You’ve stopped walking as you talk, Joel looking around as he contemplates your alternatives. To be honest, there aren’t many and both of you know it. Not without a lot of backtracking which none of you want to do. 
Joel sighs and you know that he’s going to agree. He turns to Ellie. “Don’t fucking touch anything until we say it’s alright.” He points at her for good measure, as if his finger would impress the importance of his words. “Got it?” 
“Got it.” She huffs. “Jesus, you act like we haven’t done this before.” You roll your eyes and look away, knowing you shouldn’t encourage her right now. 
It takes hours to make your way into the center of town. Not because you are blocked by clickers or avoiding humans, it’s because you are stocking up. It’s like the fungus took over this town and just let it rot. Nothing inside the first few blocks of town is disturbed. No looting has been done here, plenty of supplies to be had. 
Both you and Joel have been cautious but slowly optimistic as you’ve found boots and heavy jackets, gloves and hats. A new pair of clothes have been rolled into everyone’s bags and you’ve even grabbed another pack to fill with the mylar sealed packs of camping food from the sporting goods store. It was a miracle that nothing had been ransacked, but it makes you wonder exactly what the fuck happened here. Did the army sweep through and round up all the residents right away? It would make sense, but then why were there dead spores of the fungus here? You haven’t seen one body so far and it makes you nervous. 
“This place is a fucking gold mine.” Ellie grins like a kid in a candy store, perhaps because you’ve actually found candy and she has been sucking on the jolly ranchers until the top of her mouth is raw. “Now we just need to find a place to sleep. I want my own room.” 
Glancing over at Joel, you expect him to immediately tell her no, but he doesn’t say a word. Continuing to look around like he is expecting a clicker to pop out from the doorway of the local McDonald’s, now completely covered in that strange pink fungus. It’s like he doesn’t even hear her as he frowns at the building. 
She takes that as approval and immediately starts talking about how she’s going to spread out. Making you snort when she talks about sitting in her underwear for an hour. There hasn’t been a lot of privacy out here on the road, so you can understand that desire. 
“Joel.” You murmur his name softly, knowing that the best thing you can do is to find the motel and get settled down for the night before the sun sets. Even if this town is as safe as it appears on the surface, you would rather not be fumbling around in the dark . He doesn’t look over at you, still staring at the overgrown building as if it’s holding the secret. Maybe it reminds him of the Boston Museum, ominously covered with the tentacles of the fungus and the horrors that you had found inside it. “Joel!”
“What?” His head whips around, body tense as he’s ripped out of his thoughts. Relaxing when he finds you and Ellie staring at him. “We need to find the motel.” You remind him, nodding towards the sun getting lower in the sky. “I think we could all use a good night’s sleep.” 
He stares at you for a moment, his eyes searing your face, looking for some hidden meaning beneath your words before he glances over at an eager Ellie. “Yeah, sure.” He agrees, adjusting his rifle to sling it onto his shoulder and adjusts his now much heavier pack on his back. “Probably on the other side of the main drag.” 
His new boots thump against the cracked pavement. The roads leading deeper into the town is the guide towards what will hopefully be a comfortable bed and at least eight hours of sleep. 
Your own new boots feel pretty good, but maybe a day or so here, going through supplies and really making sure that you can take on the coming winter would be a good thing. Allowing you to break in the shoes without blisters. You’ll have to talk about it with Joel after Ellie sequesters herself for the night. 
It’s about another fifteen minutes before you get to the small motel that looks like it will be a good place to spend the night. Half the building is covered in another large cluster of the fungus, the pink hue looking particularly bright in the fading sun. 
“We’ll get some keys.” It will be better than breaking down doors, especially since the motel wasn’t equipped with the keycards that the high end hotels had started switching to before society came crashing down. 
The bad news is that the motel doesn’t have any adjoining rooms, so Joel and Ellie get into a small spat about her having her own room, Ellie eventually winning after promising that she will block the door with a dresser and he’s allowed to sweep the room before she locks herself in. Half the building is so overtaken by the vivid pink fungus that you swear looks like a big splat of bubblegum thrown over the walls. 
She doesn’t even want to have dinner with you and Joel, making the man go through the room and then telling you both goodnight and shutting the door in your face. Making you laugh as Joel frowns at the door, rethinking this entire situation. 
“Well, you can have a room to yourself too.” You offer, smirking as he cuts his eyes towards you. You know that Joel would rather everyone sleep where he can keep his eyes on them, so you getting privacy is off the table. 
“Shut up.” Joel grunts, walking down towards the next room and kicking it open, watchful even though you’ve both already been in the room and deposited your bags. It’s a nice room, two double beds so each one of you can stretch out and relax. 
You laugh quietly and decide to walk down the railing towards the portion of the building that has been overtaken by the fungus. Your curiosity about this variant is finally getting the best of you and you want to get a better look at it. 
It’s thick. The tendril that is draped over the metal railing of the second floor, wrapping around it and up the support column. You bite your lip, tilting your head when you see the withered remnants of some kind of flower. What kind of fungus sprouts flowers?
You jump when something touches your back, whirling around to find Joel behind you, holding his hands up. He smirks at you, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Fuck you.” You hiss, narrowing your eyes and he huffs. “What are you doing?” He asks. 
Turning back towards the fungus, you sigh. “This is different from any other kind I’ve ever seen.” You comment, stepping closer to it only to feel Joel reach for your arm to pull you back. “It’s dried out.” You remind him, jerking your head towards the husk of the cordyceps. “Have you ever seen anything like this?” You know that he spent a lot of time sneaking out of the Boston QZ, it’s possible he had seen it before. 
He grunts, relaxing his hold on you and he shuffles slightly closer, looking at the flower buds that extend from the tendrils. His own suspicions about anything fungus related is deep, but it’s dried. “I haven’t.” He admits after a moment, narrowing his eyes slightly and trying to think if there is any reason why this pink coloring has the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. 
“So it’s something new.” You bite your lip and lean in, feeling the disapproval radiate off of Joel in hot waves but you ignore him. Tilting your head and reaching out to touch one of the dried flowers. 
“Don’t-”
The second your finger touches the wilted bloom, it bursts open, spurting you and Joel behind you in a cloud of pink dust. You gasp, holding your breath but there’s no hope for not inhaling the pollen. 
“Fuck!” Joel coughs, shaking his head and backing up so quickly he hits the side of the building and reaches out to drag you away from the lingering cloud of dust and starts to practically beat it off the two of you. “We need- we need-” He leans over and starts coughing, obviously having inhaled just as much of it as you had. 
“We’re okay.” You gasp, shaking your head and brushing the dust off your clothes. “We- it’s dead. Right?” You hate that you are asking that, but you hadn’t expected that from a dried out fungus.
“It- we should clean up.” Joel blinks, the pollen making his eyes itch and that has to be the cause of the rush of heat that slides over him. It’s just adrenaline. Fear. Anything that would scare both of you would make the slight nip in the air disappear and make you feel like your skin is superheated.
The water is gravity fed. The large cisterns on the roof are still full and while it’s not warm, perhaps a cold shower might be better right now. Joel drags you both to the room and locks the door, although he doesn’t push a dresser in front of it in case Ellie needs you in the night. 
In the bathroom, you are shaking as you start to strip down, worrying about how stupid you just were and if you completely fucked yourself. The anxious fear covering the way your skin seems to burn and feel so sensitive to everything. Shuddering when your hand brushes over your thigh as you push your jeans down and kick them off before you pull your shirt over your head and remove your bra. 
Clean up. Get the pollen off your skin and cool down. Your body seems to be working on overdrive. Your nipple hard under the cold water and instead of gasping in shock, you moan softly. Enjoying the sensation and reaching for the bar of soap that is still wrapped in plastic. 
Hurry up, hurry up. Joel paces around the room, his hands curled into fists. Practically sweating even though the air is cool as the sun sets. His body feels like it’s on fire, like he is battling a sickness. 
Over and over again, he goes through the symptoms of the infection of the cordyceps, there’s no veining, he’s stopped and checked his eyes and reflection in the peeling mirror about twenty times in the five minutes you’ve been in the bathroom. And he doesn’t fucking think the fungus makes his cock harder than a fucking rock in his jeans. 
He’s not thought about sex in months. Nothing beyond fleeting moments of attraction to you that he swiftly buries under guilt and responsibility. Normally, it is when you’re bent over and your ass is presented to him in such a way that he thinks about sinking into you from behind, or when your shirt pulls tight over your breasts and he imagines cupping them in his hands as you sit on his cock. Immediately dismissed and ignored as he reminds himself of how he had failed Tess, he doesn’t deserve to find warmth and comfort in your arms. 
Now, it’s all he can think about. The urge to palm his cock makes his fingers twitch and he almost moves his hand over his crotch before he flinches back to reality and tries to examine his face in the mirror again, wondering if his eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep or if he is infected. 
Scrubbing your body is nearly painful, wanting to stop and touch yourself, but you can’t. You need to get this done and get out so Joel can shower. Still, despite the cold water, you feel like you are on fire when you shut off the water and realize that you didn’t bring your bag into the bathroom. You will have to go out there in nothing because you can’t put those clothes back on. Not until they have been washed. 
Moderately dry, you hear Joel bang on the door. “Hurry up.” He growls, making you clench your thighs together at the raspy tone and hating how it spears through you. You know Joel isn’t interested in you, hasn’t ever looked at you like that and the crush that you had on the man had been buried deep. 
“I’m done.” You don’t have a chance to be embarrassed as you open the door and Joel practically shoves past you into the bathroom and slams it behind him. “Fuck.” Your annoyance cools the heat for a moment, but it’s only temporary. 
The water is icy, but still, Joel curls his hands into fists against the shower wall. He’s fucking hard. Harder than he had probably ever been in his entire life, even when he was a horny teenager and would have fucked anyone who let him between their thighs. He’s not felt like this ever. The need to touch himself builds to the point where his hips are rocking into thin air against the spray of the water. Want clawing up his throat and pooling in his stomach in a heavy knot. 
You don’t dress, you can’t. Crawling under the covers of one of the beds, you listen to Joel groan in the bathroom, it’s muted over the sound of the shower but it’s sexy. All of his sounds are sexy, from the low grunts he gives when he’s stiff and sore, to the huffs and groans of annoyance. It’s all sexy to you. The rasp of his voice when he’s not spoken for a few hours. 
Closing your eyes, it’s easy to give in, to let your hands drift over your skin. He’s not here, you can take care of this frantic need that is swirling inside you. You just need to slide your hand between your thighs and ease it. It wouldn’t take much more than a few swipes of your fingers against your pulsing and aching clit. 
Trying to fight it, you concentrate on your breathing, in and out. Inhaling slowly and holding it so you can exhale when the burn in your lungs tells you that you’ve reached your limit. It helps, but not much. Not when you’re imagining Joel in his shower. Touching him. Being free to touch him and having his hands on your body in return. 
Your hands slip over your breasts, squeezing them hard enough to moan softly and your legs shift to press together. Clenching around nothing and wishing that you were full while your hands start to move down over your stomach. 
The first touch is almost a relief, your entire core quivering as your fingers press against your clit. It’s overwhelming and not enough. You need more, fingertips pressing and rubbing around the puffed up bundle of nerves. You’re already soaked and can feel it dripping down your slit. 
Spurred on by that insatiable need, you slide your fingers around your entrance and start to press them inside. Biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning. Imagining that it’s more, that it’s a cock that is starting to break you open and fill that void that is aching. 
You are so caught up in the bliss of that first stretch of your fingers that you don’t hear the shower turn off. The quiet curses coming from the bathroom are muffled by the rush of blood in your ears, the feeling of relief coursing through your nerves and taking over. You don’t hear the click of the lock and the turn of the handle. The door opening doesn't even register as you plant your heels on the bed and push your hips up, needing to get your fingers deeper, not quite reaching the spot inside you that craves fullness. 
You don’t hear him until he chokes out a sound that is pained and low, like he’s injured. Your eyes pop open as you lurch up off the bed, your fingers ripping themselves out of your cunt hard enough to make you whimper. Fixed on Joel’s towel draped body, tented over his waist. 
“Joel, I-” “Fuuuuuck.” He growls, his eyes closing and his hands bunches into fists, one holding his towel and the other by his side. “I’ve tried to not think about you, about touching you.” His words are rasped out, strained against his vocal cords. “I’ve goddamn beat into my brain that you aren’t to be thought about this way and now, I can’t stop.” His stomach clenches and his body twitches as he struggles to keep still. 
Your chest heaves and you see his eyes drop down to your uncovered tits. His jaw clenching and his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallows. “I - I need to touch myself.” You admit breathlessly. “I - it hurts so bad and I need something inside me.” 
Joel groans again, shuddering so violently that you can see him shake from where you are. “I’ve jerked off in the shower twice and it's still hard.” He drops the towel, revealing his hard and leaking cock, making you whimper at the sight and clench around nothing. “I think that- that we- that the flower-” “I don’t care.” You moan, shaking your head and crawling to your knees and shuffling forward. Showing him all of you and so goddamn desperate to touch him that you think you are about to explode. “Touch me, Joel. Fuck, touch me, please.” You beg, your hands on your own body. “We-” He shakes his head and his face changes, morphs into pain.
“Fuck me.” You hiss, watching as his resolve breaks. His cock bounces as he lunges for you, hard and swift, driving you back to the bed with a bounce. Almost as if he is attacking you. 
He’s not gentle. His mouth finding yours in a harsh kiss, your permission unleashing the coils of restraint that he had tried to put on himself. His grip bruises as he hauls you up the bed and settles between your thighs. 
You’ve always attributed Joel with rough gentleness. The type of man who would make you ache and then hold you close. Groaning in pleasure when you find out that is exactly what Joel Miller is like. His hands spreading your thighs with a desperation that proves he is just as afflicted by this fungal pollen as you are. His cock hard and pressing against your folds as he rocks his hips forward to line up. Almost unable to find the hole with his eagerness to sink into you. 
“Joel, hurry.” Your hands shake, holding onto him and urging him closer to you, frantic with need now that you know that you are going to have him inside you. 
“Goddamn, I’m trying.” He hisses, hating to let you go so he can take his cock in hand. Rocking into his own grip as he shuttles his hips forward. “I’m fuckin’ trying, sweetheart.” 
You whimper when you finally feel him pressing against your entrance, choking out a sound of need that is animalistic. Only to cry out in bliss as he pushes inside you without another delay. 
He groans, eyes cinched shut as he slides inside you to the hilt, burying himself in your heat and feeling that coil in his stomach tighten even more now that your walls are around him. Immediately starting to move just as soon as he fills you, driving by that need and burning in his very veins. 
It’s exquisite, the pain and pleasure blending and fusing in your stomach, nerves alight and responding to every small movement. You can’t get enough of him, you need more. Wrapping  your legs around his hips, you rise to meet his harsh thrusts. Clenching down around him every time he hits that spot deep inside you that you couldn’t reach with your fingers. 
He shouldn’t be inside you, he shouldn’t be touching you, but now that he is, he can’t stop. Turning his head, he presses his lips to yours and slides his tongue into your mouth. Needing more. Kissing you like he had imagined a thousand times before. Giving into every urge he has had since the day he met you and repressed before right now. Snapping his hips forward sharply and pulling every groan out of your mouth to swallow down. 
Every thrust makes it better, eases that burning in your core, your cunt slick and squelching every time he drives into you. He absorbs every sound you make, almost greedy for them. His hips jarring as they slam into you. Rocking you both up the bed. 
“Oh god,” breaking away from the kiss, you moan into his ear. Closing your eyes as he pants and puffs while he fucks you. “So deep, so deep, Joel.” Your nails drag down his back, making him hiss in pleasure and pain. 
“Shit.” He groans your name, lost in the rhythm of his thrusts and the building pressure. “You needed this?” He growls, making you clench down around him hard and whimper his name. “Yessss.” You agree, nodding against the pillow. “Needed it so bad.” 
“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” He huffs, burying his face against your neck. Continuing to pound into you, and not letting up even though his back is screaming in pain. His body won’t let him do anything but rock his hips. Driven by a need that overrides everything else. 
His words make you burn, making you even more desperate for him. Your hips rock up and legs tightening around his waist even more. Loving how his cock stretches you out and scrubs against every nerve in your cunt. Lighting up your body until you are gasping on the edge of that much needed orgasm. 
Every plunge into your body brings him closer to cumming, desperate to feel that emptiness, that wrung out filling once he has filled you. He shouldn’t cum inside you, he knows that, but he’s not going to be able to stop himself. He can barely pull back enough to rock his hips back into you. 
His arms have banded around you, holding you into place as he fucks you. Deep and primal, as if he is trying to fuse the two of you into one. His cock punches into the depths of your body that you never imagined anyone reaching, but he touches it with ease. Your body pulsing with that need to come apart. 
“So close, I’m so close, baby.” You whine, body starting to tremble underneath him. “So close.” Your nails dig into his shoulder, grounding yourself to him in desperation. “Joel.” 
“I gotcha.” He groans, eyes closed and his breath fanning against your skin. “I’mma take good care of you, sweetheart.” He promises. “You’re gonna cum all over my cock, ain’t cha? Just like you wanted.” 
His words throw you over the edge, that need built up so tight inside you that it busts on the next thrust. Lights careen and collide behind your eyes, bright and beautiful as your whole body ignites into pleasure like you’ve never experienced before. Crying out loudly and soaking  him in a wave of your juices. Cumming harder than you ever have before. 
Joel growls your name, his hips stuttering as you come apart around you. Unable to hold back any longer. He buries himself deep into your hot passage and paints your walls with sticks ropes of his seed. Panting against your lips as he empties himself body and perhaps his very soul into you. 
Both of you pant, relieved and exhausted from the pure exertion of need as you had taken from each other. Joel presses into you, trying to catch his breath, but the fire is still burning low in his belly, his cock still not softening as it twitches inside you. 
“Oh fuck.” You feel that same desire still curling in your stomach, not satisfied by the intensity of the orgasm that you are still coming down from. “Joel-” 
He huffs and shakes his head. “Don’t-” he presses his lips to your again, body screaming as he starts to move again. “Shhhhhh.” 
The need still burns and both of you are still locked in its fiery grip, not yet free from the desire that washed over you from a burst of pollen. 
****
“What the fuck man, open the door!” The thudding on the door finally penetrates the bone deep sleep you had finally fallen into. You don’t know how many time Joel fucked you, or how many times he had spend himself inside you as you blearily open your eyes. 
Joel grunts, slowly opening his own eyes and unwinding himself from the tangled together position that you had passed out in. The knocking on the door keeps on. “Joel!” Your name is also shouted, Ellie starting to sound somewhat panicked when neither one of you is immediately opening the door. 
“Fuck! I’m coming.” He drags the top blanket off the bed and wraps it around his waist before flinging the door opened to blink into the harshness of the sun. “What?” He growls roughly, making Ellie’s eyes blow wide with shock.
“Holy shit, what happened to you?” She demands, pushing into the room and stopping short when she sees you sitting up in the only bed that has been disturbed, the sheet anchored beneath your armpits. “Oh shit, you fucked.” She gasps, turning and shooting Joel an impressed grin. “Way to go, old man, you made a move.” Her grin quickly turns into an expression of mild disgust when she realizes that she’s congratulating you two on having sex. “Uh, I’m gonna go now.” She huffs, wrinkling her nose and pinching it. “It smells in here.” Waving her hand in front of her face, she darts back out the door and Joel just stands there for a moment before he rolls his eyes and goes to shut the door before he thinks better of it. Sticking his head out of the room, he shouts after Ellie. “Stay away from the fucking fungus!” 
You snort, grinning to yourself as your body starts to ache. Fucking fungus indeed. 
764 notes · View notes
prettyboytsum · 2 years ago
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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚ complaining about his size cw: afab! reader, daddy kink, slightly possessive, initial discomfort disclaimer: all characters are aged up! mdni! wc: 302
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“‘s too big, can’t fit!” you whine, bucking your hips as he starts pushing the tip of his large cock into you. tears pricking as you let out a soft moan of discomfort—hands on his chest as you instinctively try to push him away. "too big, daddy!" “i know, baby. i know,” he murmurs reassuringly into your ear. one hand playing with your clit as he tries to dull the pain of accommodating his girth. “but don’t you wanna be a good girl for me, hm? wanna be daddy’s good girl?”
you let out a gasp, now gripping his shoulders as you nod frantically. you bite your lip, a muffled squeal leaving you as he pushes another inch in.
“oh fuck, gotta relax for me, yeah? sucking me in, can’t even move, princess,” he groans, hiding in the crook of your neck as he pushes deeper. you let out another whine, the pain mixing in with pleasure as you start bucking your hips to chase a familiar high. “atta girl, we’ll make it fit.”
“so big—so big,” you blabber mindlessly as he bottoms out, both of you moaning in unison.
“daddy too big for you?” he whispers, planting wet kisses on his neck. his tone is hardly apologetic—if anything, it’s almost mocking. “daddy too big for his pretty pussy?”
you nod dumbly, loud whines escaping your lips as he pulls out before pushing himself back in. his thrusts become more aggressive as his fingers tweak and pull on every inch of skin he can hold onto.
“too bad, princess,” he growls, pinning your wrists above your head as he leans against your legs so that you’re practically folded in half. “because it's the only cock that’s ever gonna fuck you this good.”
toji, suna, geto, eren, sukuna, daichi, reiner, ushijima, iwaizumi, tsukishima
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ⓒ prettyboytsum 2024. all works are posted under this account on tumblr.com and are protected by copyright laws. do not plagiarise these works on any other platform or account.
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sceletaflores · 10 months ago
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any nasty down bad breeding kink art musings love of my life?
viciously yanked me out of my mini challengers rut with this one because yes. yes i do have some thoughts on that.
for some reason the first thing that came to mind was virgin!art....in a universe where he somehow didn't get laid before stanford lol
like auurgggghhh virgin!art and his deep seated breeding kink. it's literally ingrained in him even before he has sex for the first time.
you're his first real girlfriend, met when you needed a tutor in accounting and art's professor suggested him.
the two of you have been dating for two months and he already knows that he loves you despite what patrick says about "playing the field a little man, you're not married to the chick."
but the thing is that art would marry you. he'd up and marry you tomorrow if that's what you wanted. he doesn’t care how crazy it sounds.
he loves you and he wants you to be his first.
maybe he wasn't entirely expecting it when you laid on your back on the mattress of his dorm, peering up at him through your lashes as you announced that you were "ready to take our relationship to the next level..."
he was hard before you finished talking.
art could barely think straight, his body reacting faster than his mind. he swallowed hard, trying to steady his hands, which had started trembling the moment you laid back on the navy blue comforter of his bed.
“are you...are you sure?" his voice came out more breathless than he intended, his brain scrambling to keep up despite all the blood rushing to his dick.
your gentle nod, paired with a soft smile that made his heart stutter in his chest was all it took for him to lose any lingering doubts.
he crawled up the mattress, leaning down to kiss you with more tenderness than urgency, his heart thudding against his ribcage like it was trying to escape his chest.
he fumbled his way through fingering you, his hands shaking with nerves even though you've done this part countless times.
it wasn't until the two of you shed all clothes, art settling himself between your legs before you were speaking, thighs twitching to close around his hips.
"you'll have to pull out, i'm off the pill."
fuck.
art's heard of that before, pulling out. usually the punchline of some jokes the guys like to tell in the locker room, or from patrick recapping his own hook-up stories.
the dirtiness of it makes his cheeks burn, and he hopes to god you can't see the embarrassing red blush he knows is there.
he takes a deep breath, steeling his resolve as he presses the leaking head of his dick to your slick hole.
"okay." his voice sounded pained, his hold on your hip probably a little too tight as he held his throbbing dick steady and nudged his hips forward until just the tip slipped inside your fluttering hole.
"oh fuck."
art’s brain short-circuits for a moment, his entire body freezing as the tight heat of you grips the head of his dick. he sucks in a shaky breath, trying to keep his cool, but every nerve in his body is screaming at him to move, to take more. to bury himself so deep he wouldn’t know where he ends and you begin.
he lets out a low groan, fingers digging into your skin, knuckles turning white with it. he wasn’t prepared for how overwhelming it would feel, like his entire life had been leading up to this exact moment.
"jesus...you're so—" he can’t even finish the sentence, his voice breaking.
"art," your hips shift beneath him, making him jolt forward, sinking just a little deeper inside you. his mind goes blank, a vast space of nothingness but the tight heat wrapped around his dick.
there's only you, your soft skin, your quiet gasps, the feeling of being wrapped in the most sinful warmth.
for a while art gets lost in the feeling. in the way you pant into his open mouth, too overwhelmed to kiss him properly. in the way your hands grip his shoulders harder with every inch he gives you. in the way your pussy shakes around him like it can hardly wait any longer.
art knows he's getting close, that he probably needs to pull out soon. but you're just so soft and you smell so good and your pussy is sucking his dick in so wet and warm like it never wants him to leave again.
"i can't," he grits out against your collarbone, shaking his head frantically. "i can't do it."
"don't stop," you whine, manicured nails digging into the toned muscle of his shoulders, "don't stop, baby. fuck, give it to me harder, harder please-ah!"
art screws his eyes shut as tightly as he can, brows pinched together as he presses his forehead against the sweaty skin of your shoulder to ground himself. his hips speed up to punch out more high whines of his name from your slick lips.
there's an odd feeling working it's way through his body as he ponders his options, a wrongness flashing in the back of his mind each time he reminds himself of pulling out to spill over your stomach.
despite the fact that he's never done this before, his gut tells him no.
you deserve his come inside you, painted along your insides as he claims you for the first time.
"i can't pull out," he whines through clenched teeth, big hands tightening their hold on your waist. his voice is pinched and high in a way it's never been before, desperation leaking through his tone.
your lips fall open on a gasp, your head shaking back and forth dazedly, but he feels the way you clench around him. the way your pussy tightens up like it's trying to milk the load directly out of his aching balls.
"fuck! please don't make me baby," he begs, self restraint snapping in two as he buries his face in your neck. "lemme come in you, it'll be okay. we'll be fine, nothing’s gonna happen if it's only this once."
"no..." you moan, "art don't, gotta pull out..." but your hips start rising of the bed to meet his thrusts, the dirty smack of skin on skin filling his tiny single. you're dripping around him, coating his dick with a slick layer of shiny wetness.
"i can't," art repeats breathlessly, dick twitching inside you warningly.
"i need it…need you, need to come in you so fucking bad," his voice is strained and cracking, hips trembling with the effort, but you’re so tight around him, every squeeze pulling him deeper.
it's too much and not enough all at once—the heat, the wetness, the overwhelming need. it has pure kerosene burning in his veins.
"art," your legs stay wrapped snug around his hips, ankles locked over his lower back. "m'close, gonna come, fuck! i'm coming—!"
so is art. the added squeeze of your pussy coming around him shattering the last of his resolve and sending him careening him over the edge.
"fuck," your name falls from his lips in a tight groan as he unloads inside of you. flooding your pussy with warm come as his hips keep up the punishing pace he set.
art doesn't stop thrusting even as he comes so hard his vision whites out. he can't stop, like you've got some sort of magnetic field that keeps pulling him in over and over and over.
your too-loud moans and cries dissolving into sharp keens and gasps as he fucks you into over-stimulation, his hips pumping in in in as the image of his come getting fucked deeper and deeper inside of you plays on a loop in his mind.
when his arms finally give out and he collapses on top of you in a sweaty heap of limbs, your arms immediately come up to wrap around his shoulders. a pleased hum rumbling through your chest as you scratch your nails along his scalp soothingly, smug smile hidden in the sweaty halo of his hair.
art's out like a light in five minutes, falls asleep right there with his head resting on your bare-chest and his dick kept safe inside you.
patrick buys a plan-b for art the next morning when he's too nervous to face the cashier at walgreens.
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deepestnightcolor · 4 months ago
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ᴀ/ɴ: this was supposed to be a drabble.
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x Fem!Reader
ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: dirty talk, mirror sex, pierced dick, drool, cream pie
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☾ ᴅᴇꜱᴘᴀɪʀ ☽
Sam's breath came out in heavy puffs as he buried his cock deep inside of you, trying to keep his own sounds at bay just to hear the whimpers and whines his pierced tip tore out of you.
"Sammmm," you sobbed, your clammy hands pressed against the mirror to keep yourself upright, soppy wet cunt clenching around his throbbing dick with every new thrust, walls twitching when he hit just the right spot. Sam whimpered at the way your gummy walls massaged his fat shaft, a sharp breath being sucked in through his pearly whites. "That's it, baby, oh God, that's fucking it," he praised, words and bit wobbly and slurred around the ends, after all, he was too busy staring at your reflection. Staring at the way your face scrunched in pleasure, watching how your eyes rolled and mouth dropped when he hit the spot.
He couldn't quite remember who had had the idea to fuck in front of the mirror, but fuck, he was thankful it was happening.
"Look at yourself," the blond hissed when he noticed your eyes dropping; one of his hands left your hips he had been holding on to with a bruising grip, instead finding safety one your chin. Sam promptly used the leverage to tilt your head upward, "I want you to- fuck- to look at how good you look when I fuck you," he gasped, pressing a sloppy wet kiss against your neck, his hips abusing that sweet spot within you with a precision no one would ever account to drooly fuck Sam, who had lost his hand the moment the head of his dick had slipped past the entrance of your cunt.
"Come on, baby, watch how I fuck you, look at how good that sweet slutty pussy makes me feel," he snarled between low and high whimpers of his own. God, his balls were so tight by now, pulling into his body, cock drooling fat globs of pre on the pink of your walls. But given the way your were moaning and shifting and squirming by now, you were not that far off the edge yourself. Sam knew the signs, really, he loved them. He was so fucking sure that no one could look that angelic when facing an orgasm, and he wouldn't accept anyone claiming he was biased.
His other hand left your hip, finding that puffy clit he had licked swollen just before he had fucked into you, the pathetic whine of his name leaving you forcing a gruttal groan to surface from the depths of his chest. "You're gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum hard on my fat dick? Yeah?" Weren't you cute nodding like that? Too busy moaning and sobbing his name to give an actual answer? Fuck. It made his cock throb, made him drool all over you again as he frantically rutted inside of you. He couldn't help himself! You were just so hot, so utterly perfect! He swallowed thickly again, his finger rubbing tight circles on your clit, feeling you twitch around him, your thighs shaking under the pressure of his pathetic humps, skin reddening with the slaps of his balls.
Sam was so close. So, so close. Your cunt was just too good, squeezing him just right - and don't even get him started on how your sounds made him feel. Your moans came out frantic now, your fingers curling against the glass of the mirror as you bucked back into him, broken words like "close" escaping you in tow with his name. "Cum for me, baby, watch yourself cum, come on, you can do it, baby. Cum all over-"
He didn't need to finish the sentence, a ruptured cry of his name cut him short. You cumming always knocked the wind out of his lungs, "that's it, baby, thatsitthatsitthatits." It was a struggle to even say that with way your cunt was spasming around his pounding shaft, his tongue that had lulled out of his mouth drooling all over your arching back. "Look at you! Look at how gorgeous you are, oh my God," he sobbed, his dick twitching dangerously. And your begging voice did not help.
He wanted to say something else, words to praise already on the tip of his tongue, and they came! In shape of a dragged groan as he was pushed over the edge by a dirty squish of your drooling pussy.
Ropes of cum painted your pulsing walls white, and Sam was desperate to get it deep. Dick humping his cum deep, hips pistoning eagerly to fuck you full.
"Saaaaam," you sobbed, yet your boyfriend was gone. Hypnotized by the way you creamed around his cock. He was panting and drooling, blubbering soft words of praise, as he took you through the waves of your orgasms, arms wrapping around your stomach to press you close to your body, forcing his dick deep.
Only when he had nothing to give anymore did his hips slow, allowing himself to still in the sloppy comfort of your cunt.
"Look at you," Sam whispered, hand wrapping around your chin again, "prettiest girl in the world."
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libingan · 11 months ago
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sugar daddy graves on my mind rfn 🫦🫦🫦
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graves who first meets you working at a local fast food restaurant. he takes one look at you and immediately thinks that you’re too good looking to be working in a place like this.
this man has absolutely ZERO shame. social anxiety fears him. he’ll walk up to you and immediately start hitting you up, saying things like:
"yer too gorgeous to be workin' here, sweetheart. a lovely thing like you shouldn't be workin' at all."
"how 'bout i take ya back home with me? promise i'll take real good care o' ya."
you turn him down at first, but graves is persistent. he shows up every day, ordering a small, cheap drink, paying with a hundred-dollar bill, and winking at you, telling you to keep the change.
unfortunately, graves keeps coming back, gradually charming his way into your heart until you finally give him that sweet yes.
graves goes all out on the first date, pulling out all the stops to impress. he buys you the fanciest outfit, takes you to the most upscale restaurant, and murmurs sweet words into your ear.
he's a real gentleman, too! he kisses the back of your hand, holds the door open for you, pulls out your chair—he does it all!
graves makes you feel like royalty. that’s why you eagerly find yourself on another date with him the very next week, and then a third, a fourth, a fifth... each one more enchanting than the last.
a month later, you find yourself living in graves' luxurious penthouse, surrounded by designer brands and breathtaking views. hell, the man even gives you a weekly allowance straight to your bank account. and if that money isn’t enough, he encourages you to come to him for more :))))
of course, this kind of lavish lifestyle doesn’t come for free!! and graves doesn’t tolerate ungratefulness.
so what better way to show him your gratitude other than by riding his cock after a huge purchase?
graves grins at you, reclining casually against the couch with his legs spread comfortably. he watches you as you lower yourself onto his cock, letting out a deep sigh as your tight, warm hole envelops him.
“c’mon, doll, don’t tell me this is the best you can go,” he teases, delivering a light smack to your butt cheek once you finally manage to take him all in. “still need to thank me for that bag, darlin’,” graves murmurs, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on your jaw. his smirk widens as he feels you tense up, your teeth gritting in response.
you let out a soft whine, burying your face in the crook of graves’ neck and inhaling the rich, intoxicating scent of his cologne—an exquisite blend of sandalwood, leather, and a hint of rare spices. you gently roll your hips against his, relishing in the sweet groan that escapes him.
“gonna take back yer allowance if ya don’t start doin’ it right, darlin’,” graves’ says with a playful grin, his tone lighthearted and teasing.
a soft grunt escapes you as you place your hands on graves’s shoulders for stability, straddling his hips with your knees and beginning to lift yourself up, feeling his cock slide against your walls.
“holy fuck,” you curse, slowly sinking back down on his cock.
“if i have ta bend ya over this couch and fuck you myself, yer returnin’ that bag, sweet thing.”
the threat is enough to get you building up a steady rhythm of bouncing up and down on graves’ cock, pushing yourself off of his chest to admire his face.
“so… so big…” you gasp out, feeling his cock nudge against that certain spot inside of you. “fuck-!”
you try to readjust your angle, desperate to hit that same spot once more, but to no avail. you let out a frustrated mewl, increasing your pace, graves’ cock sliding so deep inside of you, you can almost feel it in your belly.
“fuck, please, phil, i can’t—“
“yes you can, doll. quit complainin’ and keep movin’.” he quickly cuts you off, hands grabbing the soft mounds of your ass, kneading the flesh. “c’mon, don’t you wanna make daddy cum?”
you nod in reply, doubling your efforts. you alternate between rolling your hips and bouncing on his cock, ignoring the way your thighs burn, aching for some rest. graves clicks his tongue, his hands on your ass, guiding you up and down on his cock, helping you maintain your rhythm.
“always needin’ me to take care of ya, huh? swear, i spoil ya too darn much…” graves mutters, breath coming in in short pants as he watches your face contort with pleasure, entranced by the way your walls clamp down on his cock at his words. “yeah? s’true, ain’t it? c’mon, tell me how much ya need me, sweet thing…” he coos.
“ah- ah! need you s’bad!” you manage to say in between moans, nails digging into the skin of graves’ shoulders. “please- please, phil, please! only you can- can make me feel good!”
“that’s right, darlin’, only me.” graves grins proudly at your words, hips thrusting up in time with each bounce on his cock.
it’s then that graves finally hits your special spot, that one spot inside of you that has your eyes crossing and seeing stars. “oh, fuck-! right there!”
“i gotcha, baby,” graves sweetly murmurs, bucking his hips faster, hands moving from your ass to your waist. “right here, hm?”
a wanton moan escapes your lips, mouth hanging open as a series of pleasured noises leave you, words fleeing your brain as you feel yourself approaching your peak.
“christ,” graves growls lowly, hissing as your hole tightens around him even more, a telltale sign of your orgasm. “g-gonna cum, yeah? all over my fuckin’ cock, too.”
you only nod in response, too far gone to think coherently, too focused on the way graves’ cock repeatedly punches against your sensitive spot. he chuckles, bringing you to his chest as he nestles his dick deep into you.
that’s all it takes for you to finally be pushed over the edge, a loud moan of graves’ name coming from you as you orgasm, mind going blank as his cock pulses in you, desperately chasing after his own release.
you groan at the feeling of graves’ sticky cum spurting inside of you, filling you up to the brim with his seed.
you both stay like that for what seems to be an eternity, panting heavily as you bask in the afterglow. once you’ve both returned to your senses, graves’ hands gently run up and down your back.
“sweetheart,” he purrs, littering your face with kisses. “did so well for me, darlin’. remind me to double your allowance next week, alright? a sweet thing like you deserves it.”
you lean into his gentle touch, eyes closed as you enjoy the sensation of having graves’ lips against your skin, his stubble brushing against you. “can we also take that trip to iceland?”
graves chortles at that, tenderly pecking your lips before answering, “anything for you, doll.”
he loves spoiling you rotten.
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miko0528 · 4 months ago
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ok let me get freaky
do NOTTTT read unless you freaky 😭
heh… shedletsky x reader nsfw thingy cause I can
uh imagine dis:
so you is a normal player right, just playing roblox on 2010 until you decided you wanted to do some devious shit.
So you started to bypass the filter saying all kinds of stuff to other players, you even started to exploit and somehow get other player’s accounts banned.
welp, playtime is over you silly robloxian cause someone called an admin!
ANDDDDDD it’s shedletsky aka telamon 😭💔!
but something real real real weird happened, you get transferred to a different game, not your usual natural disaster or sword fighting, oh it was more than that.
you looked around, you in some room while laying in a bed with your arms and legs chained together, as if you was some prisoner.
you cringed a bit until you heard a voice
“do you know, what happens to robloxians like you who disobey the terms of service?”
ah shit.
“u-uhm no?… what happens?” you replied
there was silence until shedletsky spoke again
“they get punished, so so, now that you are here it’s time for your punishment!”
you look over your shoulder to see shedletsky holding a book that basically had all the rules to being a “great robloxian” I guess… 😨, he then unchained your arms and slammed the book right in front of you.
you tried to take the opportunity to use your fists to hit shedletsky so you can escape but… you got slashed quite painfully by his sword.
“did you just really try to hit me? omg how foolish and pathetic!”
he then ripped your clothing off and unchained your legs, spreading them widely.
“oh hey man we can talk about thi- OH GREAT HEAVENS!-“
you wasn’t able to finish your sentence when you feel something big slipping inside you, OH NAW IT WAS THE SHEDLETSKY COCK 💔…
“read you law breaker.”
Shedletsky demanded as he swung his sword at your back, leaving cuts, somehow this turned you on 😨?…
you then tried to read the terms of service on the book, your words were mixed with moans, whimpers and shaky breaths.
“louder!”
shedletsky yelled as he smacks your ass, you yelped as you try to read more louder.
well… let’s say taht it took 4 rounds for you to finish reading the terms of service… because there was literally 100 pages 💔😔…
“*sigh*… say that you promise not to exploit and bypass the filter again.”
Shedletsky said disappointed at you, giving you that scary usual serious face ☹️…
“I… I promise not to exploit and bypass the filter again…”
“good, 10 year ban.”
“WHAT. (;゙°´ω°´)”
To be honest, you would def mess with the filter again just for this to happen a second time.
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bbyobbyo · 1 year ago
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Ever since you stopped using his Spotify account in the mornings, you find other ways to mess with your boyfriend.
A short continuation of this fic, but can be read as a standalone.
content: fluff, established relationship, idol!Jihoon, banter, reader and jihoon just have a permanent jam session going on, they’re in love i swear
wc: 857
note: ahhh they’re back!! thank you to everyone who read the first part and gave it love😊 this has been rotting my brain for a while and i originally was playing with this concept for the original but couldn’t pull it together but we’re here now! shoutout to @highvern because it was partly inspired by her fic “Between the Titles” which is such a great read that i highly recommend along with literally everything else she writes!! all the songs featured here are real and from an era of kpop I hold near and dear to my heart so if you recognize any of them, you’re a real one 🥰
Jihoon is not a morning person, never has been. As he sits in the dressing room of the filming studio, he can feel his eyelids getting increasingly heavy. Some of his members are actively sleeping, in fact, and Jihoon knows he’ll be joining them soon if Wonwoo takes any longer in that makeup chair.
Blasting in his ears is his usual Bruno Mars playlist, a sad attempt to try to recover his energy before he knocks out next to Mingyu sleeping on a mat on the floor, but to no avail because his mind slowly slips away until a piercing airhorn noise jolts him awake.
SEVENTEEN TEEN TEEN NEOWANA SAI E
Uhh. This was definitely not his Daily Bruno Mars Mix.
He immediately searches his screen to find out what happened when he finds his answer in the form of a text from you.
[8:18 am] good morning sleepyhead :)
[8:18 am] hope I didnt scare you too bad :)
He scrunches his face up in disbelief, half amused that you managed to catch him off guard with possibly the most annoying wake up song on Seventeen’s discography, and half annoyed at the realization that he must’ve forgotten to cancel your Spotify Jam session from yesterday.
He decides to leave your text on read. After all, he has plenty of time to be petty today. Furiously searching through his library, he queues up a song and before Mingyu can finish singing the first chorus, he smashes the next track button in smug anticipation.
Now Playing: Fxxk U • Gain, Bumkey
And he doesn’t have to wait long before he gets your reply.
[8:20 am] oh i see how it is
Now Playing: This is War • MBLAQ
If Jihoon wasn’t awake before, he definitely is now. Even as he gets called in to do his makeup next, he thinks carefully about his next move.
Now Playing: LOSER • BIGBANG
Now Playing: WHO, YOU? • G-DRAGON
An audible scoffs escapes from his lips as he involuntarily tilts his head back in amusement, much to the dismay of his makeup artist who had just started on his foundation. He mutters a shy sorry before resuming his search for a reply. Maybe he needs to take a different approach to this if he hopes to continue having Jam sessions with you in the future.
Now Playing: Whatcha Doin’ Today • 4Minute
As Jihoon eventually discovers, his hopes to change the topic of conversation were in vain as two songs were suddenly queued one after another.
Now Playing: Why Don’t You Know • CHUNG HA, Nucksal
Next in Queue: Mind Your Own Business • Ailee
Jihoon thinks he’s met his match, coming to the realization that he could never out sass the love of his life. But he wasn’t willing to back down so easily either.
Now Playing: I’m so sick • Apink
Next in Queue: Because of you • After School
Your next move nearly sends him to tears.
Now Playing: Excuse Me • AOA
Next in Queue: You Don’t Love Me • Spica
Next in Queue: I ain’t going home tonight • Navi, Geeks
Next in Queue: I Don’t Need a Man • miss A
As he chuckles to himself for what seems like the hundredth time this morning, this newfound form of entertainment suddenly becomes incredibly precious. Although you see each other nearly every day, Jihoon realizes just how much he misses you, talking to you about everything and nothing at all, bantering like you’ve known each other for your entire lives.
Now Playing: Am I too easy? • U-KISS
...
Now Playing: Mystery • Beast
Even though he couldn’t be with you physically, he knew you were enjoying yourself just as much as him on the other side. He could almost picture your smile of satisfaction as you found your next song, knowing that he would appreciate your humor. And appreciate he did, happily tapping away at his screen until his makeup artist puts on his finishing touches and tells him to call the next member.
Now Playing: Gotta Go • CHUNG HA
Next in Queue: I’m Busy • 2NE1
Next in Queue: Plz Don’t Be Sad • HIGHLIGHT
Now Playing: Okay Dokey • MINO, ZICO
Little does he know that his members are in the corner snickering at the sight, knowing that only one thing could have their producer smiling like an idiot at his phone the whole morning.
Soon enough, Jihoon and his members get swept up into their schedule involving the filming of various contents for their Youtube Channel, a task that usually takes the entire day if a game is involved. Thankfully, the game allowed for members to go home early, a rare treat considering how competitive his members can get when it comes to shooting content.
After his usual rounds of “good work everyone” to the company staff and his members, he gets ready to see the person who been on his mind (and in his ears) since the morning. Taking out his phone, he queues one last song while exiting the building.
Now Playing: Run to you • SEVENTEEN
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