#so every time i try to sit down and write about it my brain just. goes blank
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revelboo · 1 day ago
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Found out about the Blokees figures cause of you and my first blind box came in the mail today. I ended up making a bunch of high pitched noises at getting Ultra Magnus, since I wanted him the most out of the set. Super fun to put together, thank you so much for all your writings and showing off your own figures :]
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He’s adorable!
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The Conversation Pt 5
Ultra Magnus x Reader
• Stunned absolutely speechless when you just drape yourself against him, stretching up to loop your arms around his neck, he can only stare at you. Did your brain get scrambled when you got pulled over? And then you’re reaching for his face and he has to catch your wrist to stop you. “I don’t want to do anything to you,” he says, because this definitely isn’t how any of the other humans acted. You must be broken and he has no idea how to deal with this.
• Some dream. “Figures,” you grumble, tugging to try and get loose. And little things that have been nagging at you the whole time start clamoring in the back of your mind. The unyielding feel of his servos shackling your wrist. The warmth of him against you. The way when he vents it stirs your hair and- holy crap. You’re not dreaming or hallucinating. Staring into those red optics, you’re aware of a weird sound and it takes your brain a moment to realize you’re making it.
• “No, don’t-” And you’re screaming in his face. There it is. That’s the reaction he expected. Sighing, he hooks an arm around you and sits, dragging you down with him. Because the odds of you throwing yourself off his berth still screaming aren’t in his favor. So he just vents and waits for you to stop so you can suck in a breath and he clamps a hand over your mouth when you do. “Let’s try this again. I’m not a hallucination. I’m not going to hurt you. And you’re not going to scream when I move my hand. Right?”
• Wrong. As soon as the hand moves, you throw yourself back screaming, butt hitting the surface under you, and immediately kicking him in the face. And he seizes you by a leg to keep you from rolling over and crawling away. Just knowing there’ll be repercussions for kicking him, you fight like a wild thing and only manage to exhaust yourself. Then porn star stache robot is leaning over you, frowning. “Are you done now?” When you reluctantly nod, because he’s much stronger than you are, he lets go of you. “My name’s Minimus Ambus. And I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”
• Like where are you? What is he? How do I get home? That’s what they all ask. It’s what he expects and he’s been rehearsing in his head. “Why does a robot need to cosplay as a bigger robot? Is that like your gundam? Can I pilot it?” What? And you’re trying to walk over to the discarded Magnus armor and he has to catch you by an arm to keep you from trying to climb inside. What is wrong with you? “Can I call you Minnie?”
• “No.” Huh. Who’d have thought the alien robot would make the exact same expression as pretty much every normal person you’ve ever met after being around you for five minutes. “You-no.” You’re absolutely calling him Minnie.
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iamfuckingsorry · 1 month ago
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Managed to get another friend into murderbot, which means it's re-read time again...
This time the thing that hits the hardest is mb constantly questioning itself when it wants to protect whatever nice friendly humans it encounters. Like so often it instinctively does whatever is needed to protect a human, then it goes "ugh why do I even want to do this, these are not my clients and this is not my job anymore, I should just focus on finding the data I wanna find here", then in the vast majority of cases it sticks with the humans anyway. It's great. It's mostly in the first few books, since later on it gets back to its own or ART's humans which clearly it would genuinely die for with no regrets or hesitation - but it happens a decent amount in those first few books, when it genuinely should feel no sense of responsibility but it kinda still does. It's like a constant battle of "is that just my conditioning and decades of terrifying punishment if any humans get hurt, or is it so deeply embedded in my code it's an essential part of who I am as a person, or is that just me choosing to act on my own free will because they're nice and they don't deserve to die," but also it's so extremely casual and in true murderbot fashion treated as just an irritating thing to deal with or (preferably) ignore until it's possible to go back to watching media, it's great.
Wells is so good at exploring that line, I just love the books so much.
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im-still-watching-anime · 2 years ago
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reading my drafts like damn this is so good i should really finish it and post it as i am actively closing the window
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orcelito · 4 months ago
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Bro my apartment people Did send a message and I hadn't noticed it bc I was too focused on the one they sent after about the lease renewal 😭😭😭 so not only is my apartment a mess but I also was fully told they were coming. I just didn't notice it bc I have Shit Brain Disease!!! Funnily enough, it's the thing I'm supposed to be getting medication for, but! Guess I can't get it just yet!!!!!!!
#speculation nation#person at the clinic advised me to ask around different pharmacies to see if any of them had them in stock#starting with the cvs and seeing if they could get that info themselves#so i called cvs. had to leave a fucking voice mail. we'll see when they get back to me.#im embarrassed about my apartment and for talking so big about not alerting me when they Did alert me. i just didnt notice#and im frustrated about this stupid medication shortage thats preventing me from getting the shit that would make my life easier#guys im just so tired of it all. why am i playing life on fucking hard mode. it's not fair.#i wanted the adhd meds to make it easier for me to Do Things. so maybe my apartment wont be a fucking pig sty#and so maybe i could do my homework without it taking an immense amount of effort and time.#every fucking time i sit down to do work i have to wrangle my own brain to get it to Focus. and im not always successful#even when im successful it takes extra effort and time that someone without adhd wouldnt have to spend.#i just want. to live life a little easier. and i cant fucking do that!!!!! bc it's fucking Delayed!!!!!!#god im so embarrassed about my apartment. i was hiding it behind being pissed off. but now im extra embarrassed.#maybe today i can try to get the bags and trash up at least. i dont fucking know.#i still have the essay exam to do though. ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh#i hate. all of this. i hate All of this. im so fucking SICK!!!!!! OF ALL OF THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#i just want to be able to clean without it feeling like nails on chalkboard!!!!! i want to be able to write!!!!!!#writing! something i love! i still cant fucking DO it unless the stars align in both mentality and physicality#this just fucking SUCKS#negative/
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malachitezmeyka · 11 months ago
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Suddenly got this really weird off-putting feeling in my chest that I usually get when I’m about to cry over something, but also with some general iffyness thrown into the mix, and for once instead of immediately giving in to it or getting pissed at my mind I tried to figure out where it came from
Turns out I would have been completely justified in getting pissed at my mind because turns out, the cause is that I thought about a fic concept I was really excited about a few months ago that I never ended up writing because I couldn’t get into the flow from the very first sentence. I thought about it for a whole five seconds and now we’re here. Fucking great
#I need the ability to shut my brain off bc it’s always dead set on making me upset#yeah no shit I’m depressed and passively suicidal of course my mind is my worst enemy. but still. very mature thing to get hysterical about#and like. I barely even tried with that fic. I was riding that Astraphobia high back then#and thought I finally managed to achieve what other writers always went on and on about re: enjoying writing#yeah I know. I spent years writing without once enjoying the process or the final result. idk why I kept at it for so long#so I was feeling genuinely unstoppable and when the idea came to me I was super excited about writing it#but then I wasn’t really sure how to start it or how to even go about describing what I wanted to go down#I typed up a few sentences and it all just felt extremely wrong#so instead of acting like the adult I nearly am and like. leaving it to sit for a while as I gathered my thoughts#or trying out a few other approaches or starting with a different scene and filling the rest in later#I just threw a fit over it and abandoned the whole fic#but I still really like the idea and would like to see it realised. and who’ll do that if not me? kat has her own stories to worry about#so every so often I remember that excitement I felt at the prospect of getting to write it#and how quickly it faded when it didn’t feel as effortless as most of astraphobia did#and how that really felt like the greatest betrayal because it seemed as if the spark I spent so long trying to cultivate and light#was just doused with freezing water right in front of me. by my own mind no less#so… I suppose that betrayal will continue to haunt me still. probably until I pull myself together and write that fic#regardless of the pain and tears it will cause. and I know it will. that’s what forcing fics out always feels like#and I’m saying forcing out fics bc the only time I felt like an actual writer was when I wrote Astraphobia#all the other times I was just stubbornly shoving the wrong puzzle pieces together. or forcing square shape into round holes like a toddler#but regardless. I will keep remembering the idea and feeling like shit over failing at it unless it gets written#by me or kat and it shouldn’t be her job to write fics for me bc I’ll throw a fit if she doesn’t#exaggerated. but the point is there. I can’t expect anyone to disarm the triggers in my brain. only I can do that#and if writing that fic will stop me from getting hysterical at the tiniest thought of it. then it seems like I’ll have to see to it#even if it takes a huge mental load. it’ll be worth it in the long run bc I’ll have one less writing-related thing to cry about#I just wish I knew how to go about it better. I have clear ideas about the main part of the fic but the inciting incident + details evade me#I guess I’ll just have to figure it out. I have to stop saying ‘it is what it is’ and continuing to stew in the self hatred#something needs to be done. and in this case the only thing that will remove the trigger is the fic being written#I think part of me always knew that but tried to ignore it and hoped those feeling would fade with time. but of course they didn’t.#so… I guess it’s never been clearer what I have to do. my fate is in my own hands. one trigger less certainly wouldn’t hurt
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gguk-n · 2 months ago
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hey could you maybe write a lando x reader where when it was clear that lando lost the championship the reader just comforts him but he is distancing himself from her but she doesn’t give up on him so pls a happy end ❤️
established relationship, not very angsty, short
My World Champion
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Things had been rough between the pair for a few months. With the mounting pressure on Lando to perform had left him pushing all those close to him away. He wasn't very happy with it but he felt like maybe he could focus better. The person who had to deal with the brunt of Lando's distance was his girlfriend, Y/N. They'd been together for a while and friends for longer. They just got each other like no other but lately Y/N felt like she didn't know Lando as well as she used to.
Y/N did try to bring up the distance. It was Azerbaijan, "Lan, don't you think we barely talk" Y/N spoke slowly, trying to start a conversation with her boyfriend who was sat across from her on the sofa. He didn't bother to even look up, "What's there to talk about when I'm busy trying to win a championship. Let me focus" he huffed. "I didn't mean it like that. I just thought we could spend some time together" Y/N trailed off. "We are sat together right now. How much more time do you want to spend with me?" Lando sighed and finally looked up from his laptop. "I just" she felt her voice die in her throat. 'I don't remember the last time we kissed Lan' her brain thought as she got up and left the room before another fight ensued.
It was during the winter break when things were starting to look up. Lando had just won the Singapore GP, he was more attentive and present; they even cuddled the whole day. Y/N thought that she had her boyfriend back. Oh how wrong she was because as soon as they were back on track; Lando was back to square one. The Austin loss hit deep, making Lando double down on strategising and spending every waking hour with the team or thinking about Formula One. It was like he forgot Y/N existed or for that matter himself. She would sit there and stare at her boyfriend who looked more and more like a stranger with each passing day.
Things had become rocky between them. She felt the divide growing with each passing weekend. Mexico wasn't any better. But Brazil landed a huge blow to Lando. He shut down, he stopped talking to anyone and spent all his time scrolling on his phone. There was nothing she could do without Lando walking out or shutting the door on her face. So, she sat and waited. She would cook his favourite food or leave out his favourite snacks to munch on. But she didn't make much break through on him; as he still chooses to stay reserved, opting to carry the burden alone.
It was after the Las Vegas quali, when Y/N noticed the light begin leave Lando's eyes. All she could offer were words and cuddles but Lando had put up a wall between them. The bed seemed too big for the two of them with either on each side. She stared at the space in between them wondering when it had gotten this big.
After the race, Y/N sighed a sigh of relief. The Championship battle was over and that meant she got her Lando back. She saw glimpses of him when he congratulated Max and couldn't wait to jump into his arms. But it was like Lando was back, just not for her.
That night, they spent it like any other, on either side of the bed. But as Y/N tried to fall asleep, she felt the bed shake. On further inspection, she saw Lando's frame quietly shaking from the sobs as he tried to not make any noise. Her heart hurt watching him, she slowly scooted over causing Lando to stop crying for a moment. She wrapped her arm around his torso and buried her head in his neck. "I love you, my world champion" she whispered causing Lando to turn around. His face was streaked with tears which she carefully wiped off. "I don't like it when you cry" she muttered and pecked his lips. "I thought you fell asleep" Lando mumbled. "Can't sleep without my cuddles" she quipped. "But, I'm not the world champion" was all he muttered, remembering her first comment. "For the world, no. For me, always" she smiled. Lando searched her eyes for anything, but all he found was undeterred love. "And you're not angry?" he asked. "No. I'm happy to watch you compete for the championship because I know, sooner or later you'll win it. Just waiting for that day" she reassured. "I'm sorry for being a dick. I was just" Lando spoke before she cut him off, "over whelmed. I know. But you didn't have to do it all alone. What am I here for?" she spoke tenderly. "I love you" he whispered kissing her for the first time in a long time. "I love you too, muppet" she whispered back. He looked at her for a long time as his hands pulled her closer, running along her frame; "What would I do without you?" he asked. "Crash and burn" she chided. "Agreed" he mumbled pulling her in for another kiss. "You alway know how to make me happy" he mumbled in between kisses. "Only when you listen to me. Otherwise you're Mr Grumpy" she chuckled. "I promise not to be Mr Grumpy anymore" he laughed kissing her again. "Next time I'm grumpy, kiss me. I think all my worries melt away with your kisses" he said pressing her against him. "So, the next time you start an argument, I'm gonna kiss you" she said cupping his cheeks. "Best way to end an argument" he smiled pressing their foreheads together. "I won't disagree" she kissed him again, making up for all the lost time.
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lupinqs · 2 months ago
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CRUSH CULTURE ━━ paige bueckers x reader
☆ ━ summary: paige has a hopeless crush on you, a cheerleader
☆ ━ word count: 5.4K
☆ ━ warnings: alcohol consumption, kissing, this one’s tame
☆ ━ links: my masterlist, inspired by this request (lol i know this was forever ago)
☆ ━ author’s note: hiii i hope y’all enjoy—lemme know if you guys want a part 2 and if so send in ideas for it!!! i have been hopelessly uncreative recently!!! also yes i have been writing tmtc and safe and sound i promise—new chapter of tmtc should be out sometime this weekend, no idea on safe and sound because goddamn that fic takes me forever to write
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PAIGE HAS ALWAYS noticed you—though, funny enough, at first it wasn’t because you cheered. That part didn’t even register until her junior year, when she started paying attention to things off the court. But she’d first noticed you back in her sophomore year, in that one class she didn’t feel like she needed at all. She’d often zone out, either doodling in the margins of her notebook or letting her eyes drift around the room as she let her mind wander. Her gaze would skip over classmates until, one day, it stopped on you.
And, God, she remembers that moment. The way she’d blinked, like she needed to reset her brain for a second because… well, you. It wasn’t anything specific, nothing she could even name at the time. But there was this something about you that made her stomach flip. From then on, whenever she zoned out, her eyes would find you before she even realized it. You’d be focused on your notes or lost in thought, completely unaware, and Paige would catch herself staring just a little too long.
She’d think about talking to you, but for some reason, you made her nervous. And that wasn’t something Paige was used to feeling—not with girls. She’d been confident her whole life, even a little cocky when it came to flirting, and her reputation certainly proceeded her. But with you, all of that confidence vanished. Her brain would go blank, her hands would fidget, and her heart would pound just watching you, sitting across the room. The idea of walking up to you, striking up a conversation, felt almost laughable. You’d somehow managed to turn her, Paige Bueckers, into a stammering mess with just a look.
And then there was the other part—the part that kept her from making a move even when she managed to work up the nerve. You looked so…straight. She knows it’s a stupid assumption, but something about the way you carried yourself—she’d convinced herself that you had to be straight. Maybe it was the way you fit in with the other girls, how they flocked around you like they were all in some effortlessly straight, picture-perfect group. Whatever it was, Paige felt certain you’d never look at her the way she looked at you.
So she let it go, or at least, she tried to. But you kept slipping into her thoughts, distracting her in that class, making her mind wander back to you when she least expected it. Her silly little crush on you lingered all through sophomore year, and even when summer rolled around, she found herself thinking of you every now and then, imagining what it might have been like to know you outside of that class.
Then junior year rolled around, and her whole world changed with that ACL tear. Benched for the season, her focus shifted in ways she never anticipated. Instead of charging down the court, she found herself sitting on the sidelines, watching, observing things she normally wouldn’t have noticed. And it was during one of those games, one of those long, frustrating nights when she just wanted to play, that she saw you again—this time, on the court as one of the cheerleaders.
At first, she couldn’t believe it. She actually had to blink a few times, like her brain was trying to catch up with what her eyes were seeing. This was her third year at UConn, and she hadn’t noticed you were a cheerleader ever. Maybe she really was just unobservant, but it truly shocked her. You looked completely different from how you did in class—more animated, more alive, like you were in your element. And when you started that long, impressive tumbling pass down the court, her jaw dropped. She didn’t even know you could do that, and it left her staring, heart hammering in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. (And maybe the tiny little uniform helped speed it up, too.)
From then on, Paige couldn’t keep her eyes off you during games. She’d always find herself watching you, wondering if you’d somehow feel her gaze, hoping that maybe, just once, you’d look her way. She spent so many games like that—sneaking glances, letting her mind wander, imagining what it might be like to finally work up the nerve to talk to you. But game after game, you never seemed to notice her, too focused on your routines, your teammates, and the cheering crowd around you.
And Paige? She knew she was hopelessly stuck. She’d sit there on the sidelines, feeling ridiculous, pining after a girl she couldn’t even talk to, a girl she thought she’d never really have a chance with. It was her worst crush yet—the kind that left her feeling off-balance, stumbling over her own thoughts, trying to convince herself that it didn’t matter—and she’d never even spoken to you. But each time she saw you out there, smiling, moving with that same effortless grace, she’d feel that same pull, that same quiet, persistent ache.
It’s senior year now, and Paige has one thing on her mind: basketball. It’s been more than a year since she’s played, and she’s determined to make this season count. All summer, she told herself the same thing over and over: Stay focused. Don’t get distracted. No more drifting thoughts, no more daydreams, and absolutely no more pointless crushes on girls she can’t have. And especially no crushes on you.
You, the cheerleader she’d spent too many junior year games staring at from the sidelines. You, the girl she still thought about when her mind wandered late at night, even though she knew better. No, this year, she was locking in. She’d worked too hard, too long, to let her head get all twisted up over you again. She was here to play basketball, not to chase after some unattainable crush.
But as she jogs onto the court for warm-ups, trying to ignore the butterflies that come with her first game back, her eyes somehow find you anyway. Just like they always do. And it’s like no time has passed at all. You’re laughing with the other cheerleaders, your hair perfectly styled in a half-up-half-down, a bow nestled in it, your uniform hugging you just right. The lights catch on your skin, giving you this soft glow, and your smile—God, that smile, so open and sweet and painfully distracting—has her heart skipping a beat before she even realizes it. Paige quickly snaps her eyes away, reminding herself she’s here to play, not to get lost in some imaginary world where she has a chance with you. This is her first game back, and even if it’s just an exhibition against Dayton, she’s got to make it count.
With a deep breath, she manages to brush you off. The pregame excitement kicks in, and her focus sharpens as the game begins. And it’s everything she’s been waiting for—the sounds of the court, the rush of the crowd, the thrill of moving with the ball in her hands again. She’s finally back, and for the first quarter, she’s locked in, feeling the rhythm of the game, feeling unstoppable.
Then it happens. KK makes a bad pass, and Paige is already in motion, chasing down the ball to save it from going out of bounds. She dives, stretching to reach it, but it’s just out of reach. Before she can stop herself, she’s crashing full speed into the sidelines—right into the cheerleaders.
Right into you.
The impact is quick and jarring, and she scrambles to her feet as fast as she can, heart hammering in her chest. She’s prepared to rattle off an apology when she realizes who she’s just barreled into. You’re significantly smaller than her, and her stomach drops as she takes in your wide eyes and the faint wince that flickers across your face. But you handle it with the same grace she’d always admired from afar, waving her off with a laugh and saying, “It’s fine! You’re good!” Your smile is easy, casual, and she’s even more mortified by how sweet you’re being about it.
She tries to apologize again, but you’re already brushing it off with that smile, and she feels her face heating up as she mumbles something unintelligible before hurrying back onto the court. But now her head’s a mess, all her carefully built-up focus gone, replaced by the embarrassing replay of what just happened. She tells herself to get it together, but it’s no use. Her mind keeps drifting back to the look on your face, to the sound of your laugh, to the softness in your smile when you waved her off.
The rest of the game passes in a frustrating blur. She’s off her rhythm, missing open shots she’d normally sink with ease, getting caught in rotations she usually anticipates. By the end, she’s only scored eight points—a painfully low number, especially for her—and she feels the weight of it like a stone in her stomach. She should be thinking about the game, her missed shots, how to get her focus back. But as she sits on the bench, watching the last few minutes tick away, all she can think about is you standing there, laughing off her clumsy collision, looking up at her with that easy, unbothered smile.
So much for not getting distracted.
After the game, Paige is still kicking herself over how sloppy her performance was. She lingers in the locker room, hoping to avoid any unwanted run-ins. But finally, when she’s convinced she’s given it enough time for everyone to clear out, she heads out into the quiet halls of Gampel Pavilion.
Except, of course, her luck isn’t that great. Just as she’s walking out, she spots you—still in your cheer uniform but with a UConn sweatshirt thrown over it, heading down the hall, cheer bag on your back. Her first instinct is to turn around, bolt back into the locker room, and hope to avoid any more humiliation, but it’s already too late. You look up, and your eyes meet, and suddenly she’s frozen in place, panicking because she’s actually staring straight into your eyes.
And then you smile at her. That smile, the one that sends her brain into a meltdown every time. But it’s so much worse now because your smile is directed at her. And, suddenly, you’re walking up to her and saying, “Hey, good game tonight,” and Paige is pretty sure her heart has stopped.
She tries to seem casual, to play it cool, but all she can manage is a shrug and a half-hearted, “Eh, wasn’t my best.” She’s hoping you don’t notice her stutter, but her cheeks are burning, giving her away.
You just wave it off, your dimple showing as you grin up at her. “Nah, this was just your warm-up. You haven’t played in, like, over a year. Next game you’ll drop thirty.”
Paige blinks, and the fact that you know she’s good at basketball—even though everyone knows she’s good at basketball—is enough to send her into a coma, she thinks. “Oh, gosh,” she says, rubbing the back of her neck, struggling to find words. “Gonna have to now, just for you.” The second it’s out of her mouth, she mentally facepalms. That totally sounds like she’s trying to flirt with you.
But you just laugh, eyes crinkling as you look at her, completely unfazed. “I’ll hold you to it,” you say, and that smile doesn’t waver.
There’s a pause, and Paige knows this is where you’re about to say goodbye, and she panics because, after two years of thinking and practically obsessing over you, she’s finally talking to you, and it feels too short, too fleeting. Before she can second-guess herself, she blurts, “Oh—uh, hey, about earlier… when I ran into you. I’m… really sorry about that.”
You shake your head, smiling even wider, brushing it off with an easy laugh. “Don’t worry about it. Happens all the time; more than you’d think.”
There’s something so casual and warm about the way you say it, and she feels herself relax a little, caught up in the fact that you’re looking right at her, not at all bothered, almost… endeared? And for some reason, seeing your dimpled smile has her stammering like she’s never done before.
“So… uh…” Paige stumbles, her words failing, her confidence gone. “Are you, um, going to Ted’s tonight?” She bites her lip the moment it’s out, but she presses on. “You know, a lot of people go there after the first game—it’s kinda, like, a…thing. Which, y’know, I guess you probably already know about because… you’re, like, not a freshman…” She sounds so stupid. God.
You tilt your head slightly, considering, before you smile at her again. “I wasn’t really planning on going, but…” You pause, looking at her with a bit of a spark in your eyes, and for a second, she feels like she might actually combust. “Should I?”
Paige’s eyes widen, and she’s nodding before she can stop herself. “Y-yes! I—I think you’d have a good time.” She mentally scolds herself for the stutter, but you’re just nodding, still smiling, still looking so effortlessly at ease while she’s a nervous mess.
You laugh softly, a sound she’s sure she’ll replay in her head all night, and say, “Alright. I’ll think about it. And if I do decide to go, I’ll see you there, Bueckers.”
And with one last smile, you turn and walk away, leaving her standing there in shock, her heart racing and her mind replaying every word you just said. She’s tempted to pinch herself, convinced this has to be some elaborate daydream because there’s no way she actually just talked to you.
She doesn’t move for a long moment, replaying the way you said her name, the sound of your laugh, and the chance that she might actually see you tonight.
IT’S LATER in the night at Ted’s, and Paige is doing her best to stay composed, talking with one of the guys from the men’s team. Dirty Shirley in hand, she’s feeling just the faintest buzz, not enough to loosen her grip on reality but just enough to feel the edges of her confidence soften. She’s nodding along to something the guy’s saying when, over his shoulder, she spots you walking in.
Paige’s attention falters as she takes you in. You’re in baggy jeans that hang low on your hips, and a leather tube top that clings in all the right places, dipping enough to make her gaze lower slightly. She can barely tear her gaze away as you head over to the bar with a couple of friends, both of whom Paige recognizes from the cheer team. You’re laughing, leaning into one of them, completely at ease, and she can’t stop watching.
She realizes she’s staring a little too long, so she quickly excuses herself, not to talk to you—God, no, she can’t even think straight around you—but to hide by her teammates before she does something stupid. Her teammates notice her the moment she approaches, grinning as they watch her flustered expression.
“You see who just walked in, P?” Azzi teases, nudging her.
Paige groans, cheeks burning. “Don’t start.”
But they’re all laughing, and Ice is elbowing KK with a smirk. Nika, who’s been listening with a barely disguised grin, rolls her eyes. “Okay, this is ridiculous. You’ve had a crush on this girl since, like, forever. Go talk to her.”
“Are you kidding? I can’t. She’s—” Paige doesn’t even finish the sentence, glancing over her shoulder just in time to see you at the bar, waiting for your drink. She’d be lying if she said her confidence hadn’t evaporated the moment you walked in, looking like that.
“Girl boo,” KK sighs dramatically, before grabbing Paige’s wrist and dragging her toward the bar. Paige stumbles after her, mumbling weak protests, but KK is determined, practically hauling her across the crowded floor until they’re standing right next to you. KK orders a Sprite, leaning casually on the bar and glancing over at you with a grin. “Hey, girly pop! You cheer, right?”
You smile, looking more at Paige than at KK, and Paige’s heart thuds against her ribs. “Yeah, I do,” you say, introducing yourself and holding out a hand to KK, but your gaze flickers right back to Paige, who’s half-hiding behind her friend, cheeks pink and looking slightly caught. “Hi, Paige.”
Paige’s voice comes out a little sheepish. “Hey.”
KK smirks, clearly satisfied, and gives Paige a quick wink before excusing herself, leaving Paige standing there alone with you.
There’s a beat of awkward silence as Paige shifts on her feet, trying to keep herself from looking like an idiot, which is hard considering how aware she is of every single thing about you—your posture, your smile, the way you’re leaning in just close enough that she can catch a faint hint of your perfume.
“So,” Paige says, trying for casual. “You glad you came?”
You tilt your head, your lips quirking up. “Hmm, not sure yet. I’m not too impressed so far.”
She nods, stifling a wince, feeling more awkward than she can ever remember. And yet, her mind’s racing, urging her to just go for it, because this is her moment. She’s Paige Bueckers—she’s supposed to be confident. She always is. Besides, if you’re not interested, at least she’ll know. And if you are…
She hesitates, then swallows, trying to keep her voice steady as she says, “Um… can I buy you a drink?”
There’s a flicker of something in your eyes—maybe amusement, maybe surprise—and she’s mentally bracing herself for you to say no when you glance at the bar and say, “Actually, I just ordered one.” Her heart sinks a little, but she forces a smile, trying to play it off. Of course you’re not interested; she should have known better—
Then you’re leaning closer, nudging her elbow with yours, and you smirk, your voice soft and playful. “But you can buy my next one, if you want.”
Paige’s brain short-circuits as your words settle in, her mouth going dry as she realizes what you just said. “Uh, y-yeah, totally,” she manages, trying to keep from looking as giddy as she feels. “I…I’d love to.”
Your smirk turns into a grin, and you’re looking at her like she’s the only person in the room. She’s trying to come up with something smooth to say when, suddenly, one of your friends pops ups beside you and Paige, tugging on your arm, pulling you off the barstool and towards the crowd with a teasing, “Come on!”
Paige opens her mouth to protest, but before she knows it, you’re being swallowed up into the throng of people—not before you send her a quick, apologetic look over your shoulder, your friend still dragging you. Paige frowns, a little disappointed, but quickly catches herself. It’s fine, she thinks, though a twinge of regret lingers. She pushes it aside, grabbing her drink from the bar and returning back to her table, telling herself to focus on celebrating. She’s finally back on the court, and after such a long, difficult recovery, tonight is meant to be about unwinding. So she does, letting her team hype her up as they cheer and clink their drinks in her honor, pulling her deeper into the night.
As the time passes, Paige’s frustration eases, replaced by a warm buzz that dulls everything except the elation of being surrounded by her friends. But even as she sips her drink, she can’t help but think about where you’ve disappeared to, if you’re still here, still laughing with your friends somewhere across the bar. She finds herself scanning the crowd more than once, looking for a glimpse of you. She tries to push it down, laugh it off with another round, but every time she looks around, her gaze seems to search for you.
Eventually, the heat of the crowded bar gets to her. She feels flushed, dizzy from the alcohol and the mass of people, so she slips out the back door for some air. The cool breeze hits her face, and she closes her eyes for a second, sighing as the sounds of the bar fade behind her. She barely has a moment to herself before she notices a figure sitting just a few feet away.
It’s you, sitting on the curb, looking down at your hands as if lost in thought. Paige blinks, unsure if she’s seeing things. But then you look up at the sound of the door closing and smile, that familiar, gentle smile that makes her heart stutter. You seem just as surprised to see her, but your expression softens, like you’re genuinely happy she’s there. And that’s all the encouragement Paige needs.
“You care if I join?” she asks, trying to sound casual, even though her heart’s racing.
“Not at all,” you reply, and she takes a seat beside you, a bit closer than she planned. She feels your warmth even in the night air, and it makes her head spin in a way she can’t blame on the alcohol.
There’s a pause, a comfortable silence stretching between you. Paige watches as you draw patterns in the gravel with your fingers, the lights from the bar casting a soft glow over your face. She swallows, summoning up the nerve to say something—anything that might keep you sitting here with her.
“Why you out here?” she starts, genuinely curious.
You shrug, glancing back toward the bar. “Got a little claustrophobic in there,” you say, voice soft.
“Yeah… me too,” Paige nods, grateful for the fresh air and this quiet moment with you. The silence returns, but this time, it’s charged, heavy with something she can’t quite put into words.
Finally, Paige finds her voice again, her words slipping out before she can think them over. “You’re a good cheerleader, y’know. You do all those flips and shit—it’s impressive.”
You let out a small laugh, looking away for a second as if flattered. Paige is almost certain she sees a faint blush on your cheeks, and the sight makes her smile a little, lips curving upward. “Didn’t know you really paid attention to the cheerleaders,” you respond, teasing.
Paige scoffs, shrugging as if it isn’t a big deal, even though she feels like she’s been caught in some sort of confession—which, she kinda has. “Well, I did sit out for a year, so… I had to find something to watch.”
You tilt your head, smirking as you ask, “So you chose to watch me?”
Paige’s cheeks warm, and she silently thanks the alcohol for the courage that lets her meet your gaze. “Yeah,” she murmurs, watching as you look away, biting your lip as if trying to hide a smile. The sight makes her heart skip in a way that’s both exhilarating and terrifying.
After a moment, Paige adds, “I think we… had a class together, couple years ago?”
You nod, eyes lighting up at the memory. “Yeah, we did. Sociology, right?” you reaffirm, nodding in tandem with her. “’M surprised you remember that—you always seemed so disinterested.”
Paige nearly blanches, genuinely surprised you’d noticed her too. She didn’t think you’d have remembered her, much less noticed her back then. The notion gives her some of her usual confidence beck and she manages a chuckle, shaking her head and tilting it slightly toward you as she murmurs, “Ah, so you were watching me too, huh?”
You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays you as you nudge her shoulder. “Shut up,” you mutter, but the blush on your face doesn’t go unnoticed.
There’s another pause, the two of you sitting side by side in the quiet, both of you lingering on the edge of something unsaid. Finally, you break the silence, voice soft and hesitant. “How come you never said anything before?”
Paige swallows, the question catching her off guard. She doesn’t know how to answer without giving herself away, without admitting the way her stomach twists every time she sees you around campus. So instead, she asks, turning the question back on you, “How come you never did?”
You don’t seem to mind that she didn’t really give you an answer. Instead, you just shrug, looking down at your hands. “I don’t know… you make me kinda nervous.”
The confession makes Paige’s heart alight, feeling like it’s on fire and might spread throughout her whole body. She’s used to people being in awe of her for basketball, for her skills on the court. But hearing you say that you feel that way too, like she’s someone more than just her reputation, shakes her. Besides, you’ve always seemed so incredibly at ease around her, never even bothering to look her way. So, almost incredulously, she asks, “Why?”
You scoff, looking at her like she’s missing something obvious. “Um, because you’re Paige Bueckers. Basketball prodigy, campus celebrity.” You raise your eyebrows at her. “I think most people would be.”
Paige feels a rush of warmth at your words, the way you say her name like it means something special. She searches your face, feeling the air grow thick around you, heavy with something she couldn’t quite name. And maybe it’s the alcohol in her system, maybe it’s the way you’re looking at her like she’s somehow both intimidating and endearing at the same time, but she’s feeling bold. Bold enough to keep this conversation going, to see where this moment might lead.
She clears her throat, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Well, if it helps… you make me nervous.”
You laugh, a little breathless, clearly surprised. “Yeah, right.”
“I’m serious,” Paige insists. “You ain’t see the way I stuttered around you earlier? Ion know, ma, you just kinda fuck with my head.”
She watches, grin widening, as you blush at her words, the color blooming across your cheeks. It’s addictive, seeing you react like that—because of her. She doesn’t even try to hide her amusement when you ask, gaze set out in front of you instead of on her, “Why would I fuck with your head?”
It’s a good question, one Paige asked herself for a long time. It never took her long to figure out the answer. Though, she’s a little nervous to explain herself.
And she gets even more nervous when your gaze slides back onto hers, your head turning towards her. Paige’s smile falters, just slightly, at the eye contact. It’s intense, the kind that feels like it’s holding the world still for a second. Paige’s heart is a drum in her chest, each beat vibrating through her veins. Her eyes slide across your face, your features, tracing the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips, the faint shimmer glitter swiped along your eyelids. She catalogues every detail as if she’s never going to get this close again—a very real possibility if she doesn’t up her game.
Finally, she leans in—just slightly—her voice low and steady as she answers you. “You got this positive energy that makes you just… stand out in front of a crowd. Big smile. Bright eyes. Mm, I just… like seeing that in people.”
The words settle in the space between you, warm and lingering. Paige hesitates, letting them wrap around you both before adding, her voice dipping lower, her boldness shooting upward, “And it doesn’t help that you’re too beautiful for your own good.”
You blush deeper this time, cheeks tinted more red than pink, and it makes Paige’s heart skip. She can’t help the way her lips twitch into a grin. She’s waited so long to see this—see you flustered because of her. It’s everything she imagined and more.
“Stop,” you protest, fighting a smile as you push at her hands, your tone not carrying any weight behind the word. Paige just laughs, soft and easy, catching your hand in hers before you can pull away. She lifts it slightly, letting her thumb brush over your knuckles as she murmurs, “Nah, really.”
It’s then that the air changes—shifting into something heavier. The space between the two of you is practically nonexistent at this point, your sides tucked right into each other. You’re staring at one another, and Paige can’t help it when her gaze flickers down to your lips, just for a second. But it turns out to be enough. Because then she sees your eyes dart to her mouth in return, lingering there. And that’s when Paige knows.
Still holding your hand, she locks her gaze on yours, her voice firm but soft when she repeats, “Really.”
It’s like that word unlocks something between you because suddenly you’re leaning in, and Paige is doing the same, her breath catching the moment your lips touch hers. It’s soft, tentative at first, like neither of you are quite sure if this is real. But then you press into her just slightly, and Paige swears the whole world tilts on its axis.
The kiss deepens, slow but deliberate, and Paige feels her whole body light up. Your lips are warm, soft, and you taste faintly of tequila and strawberry chapstick. It’s intoxicating, the way you move against her, gentle but with enough purpose to make her head spin. Paige’s hand slides up to cradle your jaw, her thumb brushing against your cheekbone.
Your fingers grab at her bicep, holding on like you don’t want to let go, and it sends a thrill through her. Paige’s lips part slightly, and when you follow, letting her slip her tongue into your mouth, it’s like a fire ignites somewhere deep inside her. The kiss isn’t frantic or messy—it’s unhurried, like the two of you have all the time in the world to explore this. She can feel the heat of your skin where her hand cups your face, and she wants to memorize every second, every sensation.
The way you tilt your head just a little, giving her more access, nearly undoes her. Paige tilts her own in response, deepening the kiss further, her fingers slipping from your jaw to the back of your neck. The touch is light, almost reverent, but the closeness makes her heart race.
Your other hand moves, grazing against her side before resting lightly on her hip. Paige’s stomach flips at the contact, her body leaning instinctively closer to yours. She swears she can feel the warmth of your breath between kisses, the subtle hitch when she nips at your bottom lip.
It’s slow, it’s sweet, but it’s intoxicating. Paige swears she’s never kissed anyone like this before, never felt this much just from simple lip-locking. When you pull back slightly—not breaking the kiss entirely, just catching your breath—she can’t help herself. She follows you instinctively, her mouth chasing yours in a way that feels both vulnerable and utterly fearless. You allow her to, tongues half entwined between your swollen lips.
When you finally part, Paige keeps close, her forehead gently pressing against yours, her hand still cradling your neck. Neither of you moves far, the space between you so small your breaths still mingle, soft and warm against each other’s lips. Paige’s eyes flutter open, but she doesn’t look away from you, her gaze locked on yours like you’re the only thing in the world that matters—which, right now, you might as well be.
Her voice comes out lower than she intends, husky and laced with something she can’t quite hide as she murmurs, “You gonna let me buy you that drink now?”
Your lips curve into a slow, easy grin, and Paige feels her chest tighten, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of it. You’re so close she can see the faint glimmer of mischief in your eyes, the way they soften as you look at her.
“Yeah,” you say, your voice soft but sure, “I’d like that.”
The way you say it, the way your smile widens just slightly after, makes Paige’s heart race all over again. She can’t help the small, satisfied smile that spreads across her face. Paige leans back just enough to take in the sight of you—your flushed cheeks, the way your hair’s slightly mussed, and that lingering, breathtaking smile she knows will haunt her in the best way.
“Good,” she murmurs, her thumb brushing your jaw lightly one last time before she pulls away completely, standing up and offering you her hand. When you take it, she holds on a little longer than necessary, leading you back into the bar, already planning how she’s going to keep you smiling for the rest of the night—and, hopefully, much longer afterwards.
1K notes · View notes
nakoyaps · 7 days ago
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unattractive
kenma kozume x fem! reader
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kenma definitely isn’t the type of guy to take you out to big restaurats for dates— not that you’re asking him to; if anything you’re both happier spending one on one time at home.
though, to the conventional people in relationships this is a total no-no.
“seriously, y/n? he’s like a millionaire and he can’t spare a few hundred to go out on a date every once and a while? talk about stingy..” your friend, aiya nagged.
she’s always been materialistic if you’re being honest, you don’t even know why you still keep up with her. three whole years of friendship and you swear all you remember is “oh my god, i heard he’s rich!” “ugh, i dumped him— can you believe that he’s only an office worker?”
money is important, yes. you definitely agree on that. but, no one’s worth is solely based on how much they make or how much they spend.
“can you not talk about kenma like that? he’s just not the type that likes to go out.. and to be honest, neither am i.” you murmur, avoiding eye contact with her.
aiya raises a brow, an idea entering her pea brained mind “you seriously think a man with that much money ‘doesn’t like to go out’?”
“he’s so obviously an introvert, aiya.”
“he’s probably just hiding you away from the public cause he’s embarrassed. no offense..” aiya spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, an mildly exceptionally sickening smirk on her pretty pink lips.
“embarrassed— of what?”
“isn’t it obvious?” she asked, motioning to your physique.
“what the fuck, aiya? that’s my boyfriend we’re talking about.” you started to get agitated, raising your voice.
“well geez, no need to get all mad..” she chuckles, “he just doesn’t look like the type to be loyal, that’s all. plus, he’d look better with someone that’s more.. good looking? i’m not calling you ugly or anything, just.. you’re unconventionally beautiful.”
𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆
“fake ass bitch..” you grumble, slamming the door behind you as you flopped on your couch.
kenma appeared from around the corner, looking concerned. “you okay?”
his eyes softened seeing your sour expression, sitting down beside you.
“aiya keeps saying shit about you..”
“so what? people talk shit all the time.”
you roll your eyes, “she keeps saying you’re not good for me, you’d be better off with someone ‘conventionally attractive’ or whatever she’s talking about.”
“that’s not true” he strokes your hair.
“am i not good enough?”
“you are.”
you frown. this was a common reoccurrence and you know you’d get another scolding if you said what you were about to, but.. you only live once, right?
“why’d you choose me anyways? i’m sure lots of your gamer friends are pretty girls too..”
he raised a brow, shutting her eyes with his hands “if you can’t see how pretty you are, don’t even try looking at anything else.”
“i’m serious, kenma!”
“none of them are you. i didn’t just fall in love with your looks— sure they played a big part, but your personality really sealed the deal.”
“that’s what people say when they think their partner’s ugly.”
“you’re not gonna believe me anyways, so..” kenma chuckles, “but seriously, you’re gorgeous. you don’t have to listen to whatever she says just ‘cuz she’s your friend. plus, i keep telling you to stop hanging out with her anyways..”
“i don’t have any other friends—“
“yeah, well she’s a bad influence on you.”
you frowned, sitting upright. face to face with kenma, you felt butterflies in your stomach.
“i still feel like i’m crushing on you sometimes. like i forget that you’re my girlfriend just cause you’re so pretty.”
“fuck off, kenma..” a faint blush dusting your cheeks.
as your eyes met, you felt yourself reaching for his lips—
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sorry if kenma felt ooc!! i was listening to music and i think it took control of my writing lol. the writing was all spontaneous cuz i suddenly felt like getting back into publishing fics :p
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cry4mina · 2 months ago
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Jealousy
(Sana x fem!reader)
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Word Count: 6.7k
Smut/Play angst/Fluff
Summary: You have a friend from college that is coming to visit and is very affectionate with you. Sana doesn't like that and retaliates before taking this "issue" into her own hands.
TW: THIS IS JUST FUCKING WITH A HINT OF BACK STORY. drinking, food, eating, sex, oral, strap ons, jealousy, degrading, top sanaaaaaaaaa, choking, hand cuffs, just a whole brain rot moment. Let me know if I missed anything.
AN: Hey hi hellooooo! (I BARELY PROOF READ THIS PLS FORGIVE) I feel so out of practice with writing! I had the brain rot and needed to do the thing. I hope you all enjoy this! Thank you to @ghostykapi for always helping me get plot points down like girl what would I do without you and for @psylocke142 and @sscieloz because the three of you constantly keep me sane while I'm losing it when brain does not work LMAO
Please enjoy and drink some water today! Ask are always open and feedback is always welcome! :)🖤
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“You don’t need to be nervous, babe. She’s going to love you!” reassuring your wife sitting next to you in the booth of your favorite cafe.
Nayeon, your best friend from college/roommate at the time was in town and wanted to visit and catch up with you - and meet your wife, Sana. You couldn’t be more excited for them to finally make acquaintance after years of talking both of them up to each other.
“I know, I know but I just know how much she means to you and I want to make a good impression, you know?” puppy dog eyes looking up at you, melting you as always.
Sana looked stunning today, wearing a lavender cardigan and a white tank top underneath with some light washed oversized jeans paired with white sneakers. Her hair is long and framing her face so perfectly, with a lavender bow in her hair.
Looking so sweet and kind, glowing in her seat while making eye contact with you. You’re so in love with her, a masterpiece come to life - moving ethereally and making beautiful waves that crash happiness and warmth into the depths of your soul.
Submerging you completely into Minatozaki Sana.
“And you will, my love.” slipping your hand into hers, toying with the ring that was the product of the love built between the two of you.
“You’re sure?” looking down at your hands intertwined, watching as your hands fiddle with the gold band and then back up at your eyes that were filled with pure admiration.
“Never been more sure about anything.” beamed back at her.
It was true, asking her to marry you was the best decision you had ever made and you would do it a million times over, in every single life.
Sana’s cheeks flush red, bringing the hand that wasn’t intertwined with yours under the table up to cover her own smile, sheepishly trying to not get flustered with the way you still flirted with her, even after years of being together.
“Hello! My name is Michael. Can I start you off with some drinks?” the waiter must have snuck up to the table while you were wrapped in each other.
“I’ll have a sweet tea, please.” looking over to Sana who is still trying to compose herself.
“And she will have a hot green tea with honey, thank you.”
“Ma’am?” looking over to Sana.
The waiter seems to be completely ignoring what you said your wife wants…Cocking your head and furrowing your brows, you tilt your head up to look at him.
“I’d like what she said I wanted, thanks.” confusion laces her voice as the waiter sighs with a smile at the sound of her voice and walks to gather your drinks.
“What the fuck is that about?” back tensing in anger, staring daggers at the man who just flirted with your wife.
“You’re cute when you’re angry.” a cold finger catches your chin and leads you to look right into her eyes, inching her face closer and closer to you.
“Nothing to worry about, baby.” voice squeaking with pure happiness at your jealousy as she places her lips on yours, sending you into a whirl wind.
“I’m all yours…forever, remember?” lifting her hand out of yours to flash you the ring and wink.
It takes everything in you to not sink to the floor, you never should’ve taught her how to wink. It’s going to be the death of you and you’re already so weak to her touch that a wink on top of it could send you into a spiral of thoughts of love, and some others that are lust driven.
“Y/n?!” shouted from the front of the cafe, the voice is familiar that can only mean one thing.
“Oop! There she is!” standing up to spot her.
Seeing her and trying to catch Nayeon’s attention and wave her to the table.
Nayeon was wearing a very small crop top, showing off her stomach, and a very small pair of shorts. Very revealing, which doesn’t surprise you. She was always comfortable in her s
“You’re late!” is how you decided to her her attention.
Squealing at the sight of you, you open your arms for Nayeon to practically tackle you to the floor.
“I missed you so much Y/nnie! Look at you! You’re glowing. Ugh I just know that Sana is taking SUCH good care of you. And this, is your color.” grabbing your face and kissing your cheeks obnoxiously with a loud smack to each side, before tugging on the royal blue sweater you were currently wearing and pointing down to the shoes that matched it.
“I miss you too, Nay! I promise you she is and thank you!” bringing her in for another tight hug before letting go, Nayeon’s hand trailed down your arm and stopped in your hand, linking your fingers together.
Head turning start your introductions to one another and you realize that you might’ve forgotten to tell Sana that Nayeon is very physically affectionate…and that it meant nothing…oops.
Your wife’s jaw is on the floor, eyes wide and you can see the annoyance simmering underneath the shocked expression on her face.
“Nayeon! This is my wife, Sana.” throwing the word “wife” in, hoping that it would calm Sana enough to get through lunch so you could explain yourself later.
Already knowing that this was going to be a big conversation tonight.
“Oh my goodness! You’re stunning!” Nayeon let go of your hand and brought them up to grab Sana’s, pulling her out of her chair.
“It’s so so so lovely to meet you! I’ve heard so many wonderful things!” Joyfully offered to your wife as Nayeon wrapped her arms around her.
“Likewise!” Sana’s voice is chipper but the glare she’s giving you from over Nayeon’s shoulder is the exact opposite.
“Shit.” stated under your breath, as Nayeon and Sana part ways to create more small talk between the two of them, everyone taking their seats to get brunch started.
Sana and you take your place on the side of the table you were already on, Nayeon sitting across from you in the booth as your wife and bestfriend slip from small talk into questions about each other.
Both of them seem comfortable, this is great.
A jealous Sana was sexy, the way anger flared behind her eyes never failed to get you wet, even though it was usually not the time for it. Not willing to let this become a situation of jealousy because it’s Nayeon…if it was a stranger, sure but you want these two to get along.
Maybe Sana would get to know Nayeon and realize that the affection wasn’t something that meant anything at all.
Maybe she’s already forgotten.
The waiter walks back over and places your drinks down on the table, only addressing Sana in the process.
“Here you are, Ma’am.” his hands are slightly shaky as he placed the drink down.
“Thank you, sweet heart.” winking at him seductively.
…she had not forgotten…
You were regretting teaching her to wink even more so, as watched as the waiter’s thoughts leave his mind, swearing you could see his heart beat in his neck.
“uh…uhm...N-no p-p-problem, m-ma’am.” tugging at his collar to relieve some of the pressure Sana just placed on him.
Nudging her with your elbow, the look you’re giving her sliced through all the tension of this and was now turning into something she saw as a game.
Pawn move, your turn.
Nayeon is taking all of this in, without interrupting the show unfolding, leaning back in her seat and cocking an eyebrow. Does she realize what’s actually happening here or does she think that Sana is insane?
“I’ll take an iced americano, thank you.” to the panicked man, giving him the exit he seemed to crave so desperately.
“Right away, ma’am!” rushing off behind the doors to the kitchen, you swear you can hear his sigh of relief when he steps out of sight.
“So how is Jeongyeon? How are things?” inquiring so you can distract for what she was witnessing.
“She’s great! She’s back home with Dahyun. They just opened a coffee shop so they’ve been busy bodies with that.” smiling in pride of what her wife and best friend were doing.
“No way! After all these years of wanting to? I’m so happy to hear they’ve finally done it!” returning the sentiment back to her with excitement.
“And Dahyun is still rooming with you both, I assume?”
“Our perfect third wheel!” both of you burst into a giggle, Sana watches how close the two of you are.
You can feel her energy shift into possessive and jealous, more tense by the second as you continue on with brunch.
Nayeon reaches her hand over the table to grab yours, genuinely smiling at you as she prepares to say something.
Sana is seething next to you and you can already tell what she’s going to do about it.
“It’s truly so great to see you, I’m so happy they called a meeting here so we could get together and I could meet Sana too!” the warmth and friendship radiating off the sentence went right over Sana’s head as she laid her hand on your thigh, digging her nails right into the denim of your black jeans.
The waiter, Michael, comes back over with Nayeon’s iced americano and places it on the table.
“Do you need some more time to look over the menu? Or have any questions?” the poor boy is shaken to his core, and it’s about to get so much worse.
“What’s your favorite thing on the menu, honey?” Sana says without looking up at him.
“Oh, you know I love the ba-” you start.
“Not you.” putting her hand up to halt you, mid sentence.
“Michael.” looking up at him with those puppy dog eyes and a smile.
You swear you can physically see his knees turn to jelly.
“Uhm…well I r-really like the pancakes, ma’am.”
Rolling your eyes in disbelief, you wait for her response, making eye contact with Nayeon and communicating with her silently as all of this transpired.
“Pancakes it is then.” putting on her sweetest voice possible before handing him the menu and intentionally touching his hand.
“Wow, your hands are so strong…” caressing the top of one of them before pulling back.
“I wonder how useful those could be…”
“Sana! Enough!” the rage set in with you snapping at her, she had pushed this too far and she knows it.
“Oh, come on. It’s all in good fun, right?” kissing your cheek and then winking at him again.
“Right, Sweet heart?” referring to Michael again.
Staring at her in disbelief, your jaw tightens as you look back at Nayeon who is holding in her laughter, flushing red from the suppression.
“And no laughing out of you!” pointing to her across the table, her arms shoot up to claim her innocence.
“I’m just here to visit a friend! I swear!” chuckling through the sentence and bringing an ease to the table.
“A friend…right…” Sana seems to not believe but laughs along anyway.
Nayeon managed to cut the tension like she always did with a silly moment and for that you were grateful.
Over the course of this brunch, you had lovely conversations that everyone was involved in. Nayeon and Sana got along really well, despite the introduction, enjoying a lot of the same things and having lengthy conversations about many different topics.
“How long are you in town for?” Sana asked before taking a sip of her drink.
“I fly home tomorrow night, unfortunately.” sighing and knowing that the visit would be short lived.
“That’s too soon.” quipped back with a frown.
A sudden sparkle behind her eyes and the twitch of her brow shows you that she’s up to something.
“Where are you staying?” expeditiously inquired through a new tone of excitement.
“Well, this trip was very last minute so I’m hoping I can get a hotel down town by the airport. If anything, I can just sleep in the rental car and head to the airport tomorrow afternoon.”
“Nonsense! You’ll stay with us!” This surprised both you and Nayeon.
Sana offering Nayeon to stay at your home was a very big deal. You both really liked your privacy and for her to extend that invitation was...not like her.
“I wouldn’t want to impose!” Nayeon is dismissive of the thought, looking over to you for some hint that this would be okay.
Nodding to her very softly, you agree.
“I insist, Nayeon! I can’t have my wife’s best friend sleeping in discomfort when we have a perfectly good guest room for you to stay in.” Sana’s hand reaches out over the table to grab Nayeon’s, reassuring her that all was well.
“Alright, I’ll stay.”
“Great! I’ll get the check.”
The waiter must’ve been listening as he was immediately when he heard Sana wanted something. Nayeon let out a belly laugh when she saw how quickly he was present, and you rolled your eyes.
Reaching out to hold your hand, Nayeon decides to move a pawn on the gameboard.
“Y/nnie, did you ever tell Sana about what we used to do?” the flirtatious tone perks up Sana’s ears, the scowl on her face already gently forming around her squinted eyes.
“Nayeon, what are you talking about?” trying to brush off what Nayeon was hinting at so Sana wouldn’t get upset.
“What did you guys used to do?” attempting to keep cool about the new information that just dropped onto the table like an anvil.
“If Y/nnie doesn’t remember, I don’t think I should say, besides…I don’t know if you’d be too excited about hearing it anyways. Just a very fond memory to live in my mind then.”
Nayeon winks at Sana and then stands up.
“See you at your house!” swiftly walking out of the cafe.
The walk to the car was silent.
Only the sounds of your shoes against the concrete.
Walking around to the passenger seat, you open the door for Sana and wait for her to get inside. She’s just standing by the car and clenching her jaw, you can see the muscles flexing causing you to swallow harshly - nerves tingling as you walk around to the driver’s side door.
Sana suddenly slams the door closed without getting inside before promptly opening it again, for herself, and gets into her seat, closing the door behind her.
Blinking a few times at how petty that actually was, you slip into the drivers seat and start the car.
The first 5 minutes of driving are just as quiet as the walk to the car, Sana’s stewing in her jealousy next to you and you’re just waiting for her to say something.
Slowing down and stopping at a red light, you look at the road in front of you until you feel her eyes burning a hole into the side of your face.
“What did you guys used to do?” sneered at you in disgust.
“We used to smoke weed and sit on a couch, babe. A few concerts, a couple parties but nothing that warrants this reaction.” trying to reassure her that there was no threat from Nayeon.
“Sounds like there might be more. Tell me.” her stern tone rattles you to your core…causing that flash of heat under your skin that screams in desire.
“I mean we hooked up once a long long time ago. But it was one time, and it never happened again.”
“You WHAT!?”
Uh oh.
“You guys had sex?!”
“Baby, we were 18 and young. Probably drunk. It only happened one time. I didn’t think it was that important.” trying to explain but she did not want to hear it.
At. All.
“No wonders she’s so fucking affectionate with you! She probably still wants to fuck you. What the fuck, why wouldn’t you tell me this?!” through clenched teeth and she crosses her arms and shifts away from you.
“Sana, it meant nothing then and it means even less now. I love you. I want to be with you. This was a long time ago, okay?”
Silence.
“Sana.”
More silence.
“Sana!” rising in volume to get her attention.
“Okay, fine. Whatever.” waving her hand at you, the weak signal that she would be fine about this.
“Sana, Nayeon is my best friend…okay? That’s all. You are my wife. I married YOU. Not her.” reassurance making it’s way to her as you try and defuse.
“I trust you. She’s your best friend…I’ll be on my best behavior.” rolling her eyes and sighing next to you.
A fight given up a little too easily…knowing her, she was planning something else.
This was going to be a long night, wasn’t it?
Dinner came and went as quickly as brunch did. Spending the night lounging around the house and watching movies with Nayeon and Sana was such a good way to spend the evening - despite the argument in the car earlier.
It seems like they’re getting along very well, giggling with each other and nonstop chatting. It seems Sana is getting comfortable and actually trying to get to know your best friend.
That warms your heart more than anything. She was really willing to put her jealousy aside for you…it’s impossible to not love her more and more every single day.
Nayeon and Sana decided they wanted to watch a movie, so you let them pick while you went and got some snacks from the kitchen.
Returning to find them on the couch whispering to each other, you decided to just sit on the other side of Sana and let them press play when they were ready.
They picked a weird comedy you had never heard of, you decided to just scroll through your phone while the movie played on.
Around 10pm, Sana stretched and yawned, leaning into your neck and sighing into you. Toying with the end of your shirt lightly and scooting closer to you.
“You getting sleepy, my love?” leaning your cheek against her forehead and wrapping your arms around her.
All she could do was nod her head softly and nuzzle into you further.
“Why don’t you go and get ready for bed? I’ll show Nayeon where she will be sleeping and meet you in there, okay?”
“Okay. Goodnight Nayeon. Thank you for today!” standing up, giving Nayeon a hug and sluggishly making her way to the bedroom you shared and closing the door behind her.
“She’s a tough one, huh? I never thought I’d see you go for someone jealous…especially with how jealous you get!” Nayeon nudged you as you both stood up and you made your way down the hall to the guest bedroom.
“I wouldn’t say though! She’s just not used to people being touchy with me. She likes a little jealousy…and I mean, you know I like possessive. Even if this round was a little intense. I’m really happy you both got to know each other better so we can do this more often” smiling at Nayeon.
“You both are a match made in heaven. I’m really happy for you, Y/nnie. She’s lovely. Good luck later!” booping your nose lightly and turning to go into the room.
“What does tha-…You know what, I dont want to know…goodnight.” dismissively waving your hand at her while closing the door shut. Her laugh can be heard from the other side of it.
Walking back to your own room, you can’t help but wonder what that meant…good luck? with what? Maybe it was just her trying to psych you out…
Trying to be quiet as you enter, you don’t see Sana on her side of the bed, assuming she’s still in the bathroom, you strip out of the clothes you spent your day in and changed into just a large T-shirt.
The bathroom door opens up softly while you’re bringing your clothes across the room to put in the laundry basket, not bothering to look up, you toss the clothes in the vessel and turn around to crawl into your side of the bed.
That’s when you finally register what is happening in front of you.
Sana has changed into her red, lacey night gown…the one that’s completely see through…the one she knows you can’t resist.
Trying not to drool at the sight of her and how sensual she is in her movements, the way her hips sway and the way she’s looking you up and down like you’re prey to her.
Taking a few steps closer to you, she watches as you stand there in total shock - ready to drop to your knees for her.
“I think I need to remind you what it means to be my wife.” sultry, sexy tone dripping off her tongue, melting through your brain - the ache for her very present between your legs.
“I think you need a reminder of who you belong to…” the sentence lingers in your mind as she makes her way over to you slowly.
Fuck.
She’s playing hard ball with you, wanting you to submit to her immediately…and you’re tempted. It’s hard not to be when she’s like this.
Usually so soft and sweet, but when that bedroom door closes, she’s in charge and you didn’t feel like giving her that power that easily, even if you knew you’d end up sore tomorrow.
“I need to be reminded? Ha! You must not remember what you did.” flipping the script on her, crossing your arms while you wait for your reply.
The devilish smirk translucently sits across her mouth for a moment, before dissolving seamlessly into the start of something that would haunt you all night long.
The game has begun.
“What I did?!” raising her voice at you and taking a defensive stance.
“After what YOU did with your little friend! And in front of me, no less!” Scoffing and crossing her arms at the memory.
Hesitating to say anything, you try and think of a how you want to navigate this. It’s obvious how this is going to end, considering the red lace that’s barely covering her body when the idea pops into your head.
Pawn moved.
“It’s cute when you’re like this” slowly walking up to her and placing your hands on her hips and leaning into her chest, lips mere inches apart.
“Whatever.” Arms still crossed under your chests pressed together as she fights to not wrap her arms around you.
“Awh come on, my jealous baby. You know it’s only you.” Trailing a finger up her side and watching as she swallows harshly, breath hitching as she mimics your movements.
As her hands glide up your sides, the tips of her fingers graze lightly over your skin and lift the over size shirt with them - revealing what was underneath.
Nothing.
Sana lets out a short laugh when she sees your bare ass, smacking it loudly and leaning forward into you with a hand slithered up the back of your neck and through your hair.
Check.
“And who says that you’ll get what you want from me? You think being a slut for others gets you rewarded?” rebutted in a whisper with her lips brushing past yours so delicately.
Pawn moved.
Hands coasting up her back and into her hair that’s tied into a bun, you kiss up her cheek and right to her ear.
“If you won’t, I know someone who will.” another peck to her cheek.
Check. Mate.
“Someone in the next room…she’s done it before. You’ve seen her hands, right baby? Can’t you just imagine how fu-”
Sana suddenly lets go of you. Shoving you, hard, onto the bed.
“Don’t fucking move. You’re going to regret what you said but any disobedience going forward will only result in worse. Do you understand me, whore?” the mood is rage scorched, scowling down at you as you nod your head one time before she sets off to the closet.
She pulls out the box, grabs her strap - the larger one - slipping it on and tightening the sides so it fits tightly. What surprises you is when she reaches back into the box and pulls out some hard metal handcuffs you rarely ever used.
“You think you can just talk about someone else fucking you and get away with it, bitch?” walking up to you, twirling her finger around in front of her, signaling you to turn over onto your stomach.
“Hands behind you.” her stern voice is making you dizzy, unable to actually register what she’s actually saying.
“Now!”
A hard smack to your lower thighs startles you, the sting is delicious but you listen to what she says and put your hands behind your back.
The metal is cold against your wrists, wiggling to see how tight they were. There wasn’t much room to move at all.
Running your fingers against the metal to find the loose bolt that usually releases the sex cuffs, you can’t find one that rattles against your fingers.
“Awh…you thought I’d use the fake ones on you?”
Oh, shit.
Sana pulls you to the edge of the bed, feet flat on the floor and torso bent over the sheets. Taking the head of the strap, she runs it up and down your slit in a very unhurried fashion.
“Look how wet you are.” slapping the end of the dildo on your clit a few times just to hear it splatter against you.
“Did you get wet like this for her too?” gliding back over your slit this time dipping between your lips and grinding against your clit.
A gasp leaves your lips at the sensation, the burst of pleasure that sent shockwaves through you.
“Answer me, slut.” she’s leaned over your back and in your ear, grinding softly against you.
Holding you down by the chain with one hand, the other slips up to your neck, holding your throat to force you to keep your head up.
“Why don’t you…fuck- ask her?” whined out between the sluggish strokes of Sana’s strap.
Immediately coming to a halt when what you said registers in her mind, she grips your throat tighter, you can feel her tensing her body.
“What the fuck did you just say to me?!” growled as she lifts herself off of you.
Rabid, feral and unhinged, Sana can’t seem to get a grip on herself. Taking the chain of the cuffs in her hand and tugging hard, she flips you over on your back. Lost in lust and rage, she grips the collar of the thin oversized shirt you were wearing and rips it clean down the middle in one harsh tug.
You’re lost in your own neediness as you start to drip onto the floor, waiting for Sana to make her move and put you in your place.
Watching as she stands before you, strap brushing up against your core while her hands are clenched into fists next to her.
You swear you can see the steam spewing from her ears and her jaw clenching. Nudging her hips forward, the sensation of the strap against you pushes you closer and closer to begging for her and you know that’s exactly what she wants.
Sana’s hand flies down and smacks your thigh, the sound is brutal but the pain is something you crave.
“I said, what the fuck did you just say?”
You’re melting, slipping into the mindset of wanting.
Wanting her.
Craving her.
“Baby” huffed out through the tension of the room.
“Please”
“Please, what?” leaning forward, her finger comes up to your collar bone and traces it down, feather light touches right over your nipple and slipping to your hips.
Her lips follow from your neck down to your nipple, brushing past her lips barely touching your skin as she descended.
“Sana, please…I need to feel you.” breathing becoming heavier as her mouth travels down to your hips, biting down when she’s low enough to cause the reaction she wants.
Bucking your hips forward, instinctual reaction from your body- her hand raises and smacks your tit. Moaning into the empty space in the room as Sana kisses her way down to your slick smeared lips.
Her breath against your pussy was enough to push you over the edge - a long carnal whine expelled in frustration at how slow she was going. Needing her to finally take you the way you knew she wanted to.
“Say. It.” maliciously whispered, eyes showing you that even if her face was stoic in this moment, there was a hunger in them.
Sana drags her tongue up your inner thigh, stopping right before you could gain any relief from the friction of her touch.
This was torture.
“Baby” a breathless attempt.
Sana inches her way back up to your mouth, leaving a trail of ever deepening teeth marks in her wake, until she’s face to face with you - noses caressing and lips teasing each other.
Tugging at the metal of the cuffs, you whimper at not being able to touch her. Wanting to pull her close to you and tempt her to break- to give in and give you want you needed from her.
Sitting in sounds of your shallowed breath, Sana smirks at you letting out a sigh.
“I can feel how wet you are, baby.” taking her hand down the the base of the strap and positioning it against your entrance.
“Dripping down my strap and knowing that you can’t touch me…Must be so agonizing for a whore like you.” taunting you through clenched teeth and a forced smile.
Gliding over your slit again, she brings her lips closer to yours, letting you lean up to her but pulling away before your lips meet.
The only thing you can think about is her ruining you. Burning sensations of the emptiness between your legs instructs you to rock your hips back and forth to try and get her to slip the tip inside you.
“What’s the safe word?” pulling out of the moment to acknowledge the boundaries.
“Red.”
As soon as the word flies out of your mouth, Sana’s hand is around your throat. Thrusting her hips forward painfully slow until she completely bottoms out inside you.
The moan you let out was music to Sana’s ears, wanting nothing more than to let the guest in your house to know who could make you like this…let them know who you belong to.
Pulling the attachment out to the tip, Sana slams back down - hard but at a slow pace.
“That’s right, honey.” hips cocking back again.
“Let her know you’re mine.” hips snapping into you creating a rhythmic slapping as she continues torturing you with the aggressively slow stake to her claim.
Lips finally meeting, you’re fighting the metal connecting your hands as you both passionately dissolve into each other.
Sana’s grip around your throat tightens as she slowly starts to pick up the pace of ramming the strap into you. Her other hand trails to pinch your nipple, giving it a flick and a few twists so you moan even louder.
Feeling all the euphoria she was presenting you with, you’re unable to stop yourself from whimpering and moaning. Any attempt at muffling them felt useless. The only sounds outside of your own moaning was Sana breathing heavier as she snapped her hips into you, was the sound of your slick against her aggressive, deep thrusts.
Sana suddenly stops, elbows on either side of you, her resting and catching her breath for a moment. Taking a second to brush the hair out of your face, she looks you in the eyes and snaps her hips into you, pressing against your cervix when she speaks.
“Does she fuck you like this, slut?” another harsh thrust.
“Unh! Fuck babyyyy- ungh” your own voice echoes off the wall and back to you.
“Can she make your pussy this fucking wet?” another rabid jolt of her hips.
The deep strokes of her inside you hit every spot imaginable, tingling building in your limbs as she keeps marking her territory with her mouth, bite marks and hickies litter your body haphazardly.
Pressure building from inside you, gasping for air when you realize how close you are to cumming.
“S-Sana! I’m gonna c-cu-”
“No.” is all she says when she pulls out of you completely and watches as you writhe and whine on the sheets.
Moaning and whining in protest as you feel the pleasure receding, Sana just smiles and watches you tear up.
“Tell me who you belong to.” tip grinding against you again, this time causing an almost out right panic in you.
“Only you! Sana, please! fuck me! I need it I need it I need it PLEASE.” tears rolling down your cheeks, inching yourself close to her.
“Sit up.”
You immediately do as your told.
Sana grabs the keys from the nightstand and unhooks your hands.
Immediately, without a second thought, you’re pulling her onto the bed and pushing her down. Her smile is huge, giggling at how desperate you are.
Sana’s hands make their way to your thighs as you fix your position on top of her, straddling her as you ease yourself down onto her.
Hands flying up to catch your waist before you can sink too far down on her, she holds you still and buck her hips up one hard time before allowing you to sit comfortably with the strap inside you.
Completely blissed out, you lean forward and lay on her chest with your face in her neck. Her soft sweet giggle can be heard in your ear.
“Is my good girl that desperate?” placing her hands on your ass and assisting you in slamming down onto her.
“I bet she couldn’t ruin you like this.” positioning her hips at just the right angle to hit your G-spot over and over again as she picks up her pace for you.
Loudly mewling out as she rails into you, the ethereal wave comes back and takes hold of you again. Slamming yourself down onto her on your own, you can only think about cumming for her.
Right as the orgasm is about to shatter through you, Sana flips you over and throws you into a mating press, thighs against your chest and starts jackhammering into you so deeply that it sets your skin on fire.
“Fuck, S-s-ana! I’m gonna c-cum! J-ust like th-that baby!”
“Tell me who you belong to, honey.” her tempo only accelerates.
“You! Only you!” turning you into a groaning mess as you come undone around her.
Vision blacking out, you practically scream as you lose your sense of self and turn into exactly what she wanted, a ruined wife.
Her ruined wife.
Every fiber of your being set on fire and you violently thrash underneath her, creating a mess on the sheets and all over your wife.
Sana is laying soft sweet pecks on your cheeks as she lets you ride out your orgasm, holding your hips still while she lightly rocks into you.
“You’re so good for me, baby.” kissing your forehead and standing up, removing the strap from inside you.
“Look at the mess you made” pointing to the lace smeared with slick.
Unable to catch your breath, you try to compose yourself to reply when she sinks to her knees between your legs.
“Let me help clean you up, honey.”
A long, wide tongued lick up your pussy has you twitching immediately, still completely sensitive and walking into overstimulated territory.
All you can say is “Fuck, baby.” as she laps at you, cleaning up the remanence of cum from your thighs and cunt.
Passing over your clit intentionally, she watches you squirm and moans into you. Hands immediately grasping at her head, trying to pull her closer.
“Is that what you want, baby?” before a rhythmic open mouth kiss engulfs your most sensitive area and turns you back into a groaning mess.
It wasn’t long before she added her fingers into your folds, slipping two in immediately and pressing them up while latched onto your clit.
Bucking your hips into her mouth, you release the loudest, guttural moan you’ve ever heard as you cum around her fingers. Barely giving you enough time to come down from your first orgasm, she expected this of you - cumming quickly for her a second time.
Feeling the droplets of sweat dropping from your forehead, you feel Sana crawl up next to you and snuggle into you. Still gasping for air, you rolled onto your side and nuzzled into her. She played with your hair until you eventually fell asleep in her arms.
Waking up the next day was an atrocious feeling, not enough sleep and more sore than you ever had been.
Cracking your eyes open, you realize the bed is empty and there’s laughter coming from the kitchen.
Sitting up and rolling out of bed, you stretch and wince before getting a pair of Sana’s sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt to cover yourself up.
Opening the door to the bedroom, you wipe the sleep from your eyes and meander over to where the sound was coming from, dragging your feet along the way.
Sana and Nayeon are drinking coffee together in their pajamas - Sana is wearing one of your shirts and a pair of sleep shorts, a stark difference to what she wore last night. Nayeon has on something similar.
“Well good morning to you, Y/nnie!” Nayeon blurts out before falling into a thunderous cackle.
“You look like you got beat up! I said good luck, didn’t you hear me?” continuing to laugh with Sana.
“How bad are they? I didn’t check my neck in the mirror…wait, you…you knew?!” squinting at her in judgement.
“They’re pretty bad…Sana must have a biting kink, hm? And of course I knew! The tension between the two of you can be felt light years away. Plus, you weren’t exactly quiet about it.” fighting the laughter as she winked at you.
Nayeon’s hands shoot up in innocence again.
“She’s yours, Sana. I wouldn’t dream of taking her away from you.”
Looking over at Sana, she’s got her hand over her mouth trying to stifle the giggles. She walks over to pour you some coffee.
“I think it’s more about possessive and less about biting…And what are you laughing at?! You started this!” pointing at your wife as she turns beat red.
“No I didn’t.” nonchalantly as she passes you the mug.
“Nayeon should be happy that she’s leaving tonight.” sipping the warmth and smacking your lips at the taste.
“Why is that?” curiously inquired by Im Nayeon.
Looking over at Sana, she’s embarrassed and covering her face with her hand again but for different reasons.
“I didn’t flirt with you, but Sana flirted with the waiter in front of my face like that so I’ll put it this way…I know someone who’s louder and about to get it a lot worse than I did.”
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venus-haze · 3 months ago
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Sick as a Dog (Soldier Boy x Reader)
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Summary: Day 25 - Underwear stealing/sniffing. Soldier Boy is America's first superhero. The greatest man who ever lived. Larger than life itself. A sleazy chauvinist who's getting off on your panties in a motel bathroom. [AO3 link]
Note: Written for @cozycornerevents Kinktober! Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. I think this is my first Soldier Boy fic set in modern day…anyway it was fun writing mean and gross Soldier Boy🤭
Word count: 1k
Warnings: Soldier Boy-typical misogyny. Sexually explicit content involving masturbation, panty stealing/sniffing, degradation, voyeurism.
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You couldn’t relax around Soldier Boy, not when Butcher and Hughie left you alone with him in that damn motel room. It was almost impossible to focus on the TV with him so blatantly eyeing you like a piece of meat. Tried to do the arm-over-the-shoulder move so he could grope your breast, and called you a prude under his breath when you scooted further down the couch. 
Sure, he was attractive, but you weren’t about to mix business with pleasure—especially not with a guy who, when introduced to you, asked Butcher if they only kept you around as “stress relief,” as if you weren’t even standing in front of him. Maybe you should have gone with MM and Annie after all.
“I gotta use the can,” he grumbled, scratching his crotch before standing up from the couch.
The tension slowly released from your body the further away he got from you. Picking up your phone from the coffee table, you saw a missed text from Hughie: Sorry to leave you on supe-sitting duty. Everything good?
You sighed, your thumbs hovering over the keys before sending back: Yeah. Nothing I can’t handle.
Threw in an emoji at the end so he wouldn’t feel too bad. It was kind of your own fault, anyway. You decided to go along with Butcher and Hughie because part of you still naively believed in Soldier Boy’s heroism, his authenticity. And then you actually met him. Heard the shockingly crass way he talked, a relic of a time you had no interest in reliving.
You were just about to text Annie when you heard it.
A name. Your name. Low and gruff and mean coming from his mouth.
Putting your phone down, you glanced in the direction of the bathroom. 
You knew your best option was to just ignore it when you heard him say your name again—turn up the volume on the TV and ignore the way heat flared up between your legs at the grunts he didn’t even try to keep down. Instead, you stood up, your heart beating faster with each step you took. The motel room wasn’t all that big, didn’t take very long at all to get to the bathroom door, look in where he’d left it open a crack. 
Had he been careless? Or did he want you to watch?  
You gaped openly at him, pumping his hard cock with a pair of your used panties bunched up in his hand, sliding it up and down his length. Black, satin with a little bow, it was one of your favorite pairs you brought with you, too, and you weren’t sure how to feel about him having chosen that one to get off with, to ruin. You looked back at your duffel bag, wide open and clearly rifled through. Supposed you were trying too hard not to pay attention to him to pay any mind to his violating your privacy.
“That’s right, take it, you fucking slut,” he growled. “You might not be their stress relief, but you’re gonna be mine.”
How the hell was this the same guy whose PSAs you watched throughout your school years, telling you to pledge allegiance to the flag and say no to drugs? He was sick, hypocritical, a symbol of the worst of American debauchery. Every subsequent word that came out of his mouth was vile, objectifying—should’ve repulsed you instead of going straight to your pussy. Your brain was screaming at you to go back to the couch and pretend you didn’t see anything, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him.
“I’ll make sure you can’t fucking walk tomorrow, have to carry you over my shoulder and tell everyone what a slut you are for my cock.”
Your breath caught in your throat. He squeezed his cock harder, his pumps more punishing, frustration radiating off of him as his precum soaked through your ruined panties. Could you even bear to wear them again, knowing all the things he said and did with them bunched up in his hand, picturing you in their place, bent over the motel room sink, or anywhere else he could think of in that deviant mind of his.
“How bad do you want it? C’mon, I wanna hear you beg.”
“Please,” you whispered despite yourself.
“I know you’re out there,” he taunted, startling you. “I can hear you panting like a bitch in heat. Why don’t you come in and give me a hand?”
With a gasp, you found your legs again and ran back to the living area. Fell over yourself to get onto the couch and make the TV louder, anything to drown out the sound of his groans, your name mixed with curses as he came just a few feet away. 
Your face was on fire, and you sat with your hands folded between your legs, trying desperately to ignore the want that had overtaken you while watching him. You were better than that, better than debasing yourself for someone like him. Still, a shiver ran down your spine when you heard a gruff, drawn out “Fuck” over the sound of the stupid Vought A Burger commercial that was on.
The sink ran. Toilet flushed. Your head was pounding when he walked out of the bathroom and back to the couch. 
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, throwing your panties at you.
The balled up garment landed on your lap, wet and heavy with his cum. With a reluctant, trembling hand, you pushed it onto the floor.
Your voice cracked as you half-heartedly told him, “You’re disgusting.”
He scoffed, his arm draped across the back of the couch, the tips of his fingers brushing your shoulder. “You should take it as a compliment. There’s plenty of other broads I could’ve jacked off to—Hayworth, Bardot, Fawcett—”
“But none of them had their panties lying around here, did they?”
“No, they didn’t.” He was silent for a moment before breaking into a grin. “I’m gonna get you to fold sooner or later. Then, I’m really gonna make you beg for it.”
“Don’t bet on it,” you mumbled.
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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 5 months ago
Note
God ever since reading A Gilded Cage I cant get the thought out of my head of a part 2 where Reader doesn't see Jason for a few days after the revelation. Like maybe he thinks he's being kind and giving us some time to process, maybe he's on his angst again, or maybe some outside factor has taken his attention so the only time he's able to visit is while we're asleep.
And the whole night of the reveal feels like a fever dream when we wake up but there's a blanket draped over us and a fuzzy little kitten purring up a storm on our chest (in my heart his name is Bean (short for Toebean)), so we're at least kind of sure it happened. But as the time passes with no sign of Jason our certainty begins to wane and until we finally get fed up and write on the notepad the first thing we've asked for since that night: "You."
Or something like that idek okay I've been over here clawing at my walls frothing at the mouth I never really even liked ak!Jason before reading your stuff and now I'm feral for him and its all your fault and I'm not even mad about it
A Glimmering Collar
AKA Part Two of this series. Ahh, nonnie, you literally cooked with this. I love when my fics inspire people enough to keep thinking on them! Seriously, ty for dropping these ideas in my inbox cause I had nothing going on in my brain for a part two initially. Hope you enjoy!
~2.6k words
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You wake up to something tickling your nose. Your body feels heavy, your mind even more so. Nothing in you is ready to open your eyes, to face the fact that last night could all have been a dream. That he isn't– that was just a dream.
Something soft flicks your nose again, and you force your eyes open. You blink hard once. Then twice. It's a kitten. It's tiny, and it's sitting by your face. Every few seconds, its tail sways and brushes your nose.
Oh. You sit up slowly, trying not to frighten the small thing. It looks at you contently over its shoulder and meows. The kitten stretches as you stare at it, then plops itself directly on the blanket resting over your lap.
Huh. There's a blanket you definitely don't remember grabbing sprawled over your legs. You carefully reach down to pet the kitten's head. Your heart melts a little when it nuzzles your fingers and purrs.
You look around the room slowly. Nothing else looks different. The notepad is still in place, but the kitten and blanket all point to one thing. Last night was real. Jason is alive. Jason is the Arkham Knight.
You're trying to wrap your brain around that when the door flies open, nearly making you jump out of your skin.
"Good morning!!" A flurry of voice call from the doorway. Your eyes widen as three brightly dressed people strut their way into your apartment, "Are you ready for your shopping trip, hun?"
"My– excuse me?" You stumble out, tucking the kitten to your chest as you stand.
They giggle, and one of them steps forward, "Your shopping trip, sweetie! And spa day, of course. Oh, ha, we haven't even been introduced, have we? I'm Krystal with a K, she's Destini with an i and he's Robbi also with an i."
Robbi huffs and walks up to you to pet your kitten, "Why can't you ever introduce Destini second? She can be Destini also with an i, ya know."
The other girl walks up to you as well and picks affectionately at your clothes, "Because it's alphabetical that way, Robbi. Now you better go get dressed, we have brunch reservations and mimosa plans!"
"I– sorry? What?" You ask, eyes darting between the three of them. Whatever this is, you can't keep up. You've barely processed Jason kidnapped you, and now you're supposed to go get a massage and drinks?
"The boss wants you to go out," a flat voice cuts in. You're the only one that stiffens at the sight of two large men stepping through the door.
Krystal speaks up, "We're here to make sure you have a good time! And Mack and John are here to keep us safe!"
"Mack and John," You echo weakly.
"Your body guards, silly," Destini chirps, ushering you to your room. She plucks the kitten from your hands, "Now get dressed! Wear something nice!"
You stare at the door as she shuts it. What just happened? You hear them chattering happily in the kitchen, idly talking about pregaming your shopping trip.
Your whole mind is a mess, and you sluggishly get ready, thoughts whirling. You've barely talked to soul since you were kidnapped, and now you have five new names to remember, a kitten, and a day out.
You're not exactly sure if you should be unsettled or grateful at how quickly Jason worked to get you what you asked for. By the time you've opened your bedroom door, Krystal, Destini and Robbi are passing around a flask, and playfully trying to get your 'bodyguards' to drink it.
You wonder what they must think of all this. Who they think you are. You're struck with the realization that Jason must be paying them to entertain you today.
You don't get to linger on the thought before Robbi hooked his arm with yours, dragging you towards the door, "Let's gooo, the brunch place we're going to does the best pineapple mimosas. Or cherry, if that's your thing."
"Wait," Mack– or John, you're not exactly sure which one is which– stops you, "Boss wants you to wear this."
The girls and Robbi coo in awe when Mack opens a box, revealing a glittery, jaw-dropping choker. You waver at the sight of it. It's not that it doesn't match what you're wearing. You'd dressed up like Destini suggested, but it feels like some kind of trap.
You reluctantly pick up the necklace, eyeing how it catches the light, "Is it– are sure it's safe to wear this out?" Safety isn't really what you're concerned about at the moment.
You're more worried about the crushing weight that this means more than you understand.
John nods once, "There won't be any problems."
Krystal happily plucks the necklace from your fingers, and before you have time to argue, she drapes the necklace around your throat. "It's beautiful, hun. Just like you. Let's go get you something to eat," her voice is soft, measured, and full of so much understanding it makes you want to cry.
You don't know much they know, but when she hooks her arm with yours to guide you out the door, you have a feeling there's more awareness than their bubbly attitudes let on.
The day ends up being wonderful. Being around people, out under the sun (the sun Gotham does get), was rejuvenating. You had fun, joked, smiled, and for a day, it was almost like you didn't have a prison cell to go back to.
The food was delicious, the spa relaxing, and you didn't have to carry back a single bag. Krystal had flashed a black card at every payment, every place ever could want to shop at, reassuring you it's all been taken care of.
But the time you've collapsed on the couch, exhausted but content, the uneasy feelings from this morning are gone.
You settle on the cushions to wait for Jason. To thank him for listening or to yell at him for still keeping you here, you're not exactly sure yet.
But he doesn't come, you fall asleep in your expensive necklace and pretty clothes with one hand petting your kitten. He doesn't come the next day either, at least not while you're awake, but Krystal, Destini, and Robbi do.
Your friends, the people being paid to entertain you are nice, perfect even. They're exactly what you would have asked for.
Your kitten is perfect too, it cuddles with you at night and nuzzles under your chin after you're left alone, when the unease finds its way back to you.
It's been days since you've seen him. It's starting to feel like a lifetime. You know he comes back after you fall asleep, he moves things. You think it's his way of showing that he listened, that he came back because you asked.
The notepad, the one you haven't written on since that night, shifts closer to you on the glass table if you sleep on the couch.
The glimmering choker gets pulled out of the drawer every time you try to put it away. Your kitten has a growing collection of toys and things to climb on.
It's obvious he's visiting, so why won't he let you see him? Day five of dancing around each other breaks you. You want to see him, want to talk to him, and understand. You want Jason.
Your hand shakes a little, when you go to write on the notepad, and when you wake up the next morning, the paper is blank again.
You wait. You wait some more. All day you wait for him. No one else comes. It's strangely quiet, with just you and your kitten. You've just about given up, collapsed in your bed, when the glowing whites of his helmet catch your attention.
You sit up quickly and throw your legs off the bed as you stare into the doorway, "You came."
"Did you mean it," he asks, any emotion he's feeling hidden by the aggravating modulator.
"Mean what," You question, standing off the bed to walk closer to him, "Will you take the mask off?"
He doesn't move for a moment, just takes in the sight of you. The silence that drags almost makes you regret the question, but he carefully pulls off his helmet, "What you wrote. That you wanted me."
"I– yeah, Jason. I haven't– it's been days since I saw you," You only notice mid sentence that his hand is reaching for your face, it makes your voice waver. "You never answered any of my questions," You finish weakly.
His hand stills and he drops it, "Questions. That's what you wanted?"
You nod a little, searching his face for any hint of what he's feeling, but he gives nothing away.
He sighs softly, and looks away, adjusting his helmet under his arm. You think he might look disappointed, "I can't give you the answers you're looking for."
"Why not," You question softly, worried to push him away.
Jason turns his focus back to you, "I just need you to stay here. Please," he sighs out your name, and his hand twitches as if to touch you, "Don't fight me on this."
"That's not fair," You mumble, "Why am I here, Jason? You know I would have listened if you came to talk to me instead of– this."
Silence falls again, and he steps past you into your room. He sets his helmet on your dresser and picks up the choker resting on the wooden surface, "I wish you would wear this. I picked it out for you."
"Jason," You start, tracking his movements.
"I know," he cuts you off, "but I told you, you don't need to understand anything." You stiffen when he steps back towards you and guides you to turn around.
The air leaves your lungs as his gloves brush over your skin. He sets the necklace around your throat, and even after it rests heavy against your skin, his touch lingers.
"You just need to stay here. It's safe. I've given you everything you've asked for, and everything you haven't," Jason says softly, stepping out from behind you. His gaze lingers on your neck for a moment, and the stifling, unexplainable feeling sets back into your gut.
Your words stick in your throat. There's a sense of danger, one that doesn't make sense. Jason wouldn't hurt you. Not the Jason you know. But is this the Jason you know? The thought makes you want to tear the choker from your skin and throw it at him.
"It feels like a collar," You say quietly, and your breath hitches when his gaze snaps go yours, "I mean, it's pretty. Really. But, it feels– like it's more," You stumble out.
He nods slowly, and he doesn't stop himself from touching you this time. His fingers trace the choker, linger over your collarbones, brush along your pulse, "Maybe it is."
You blink at him, every thought flying from your brain, "What?"
He hums softly, hooking a finger under the shiny jewels to draw you closer, "Does that scare you? Knowing that you can't leave? Knowing that no matter how pretty these are, it's just another way to keep you?"
"You wouldn't hurt me," you say instead, it sounds like you believe it, but you're not sure if you're trying to convince yourself or him.
"I don't want to," He admits, fingers leaving your throat to trail up your jaw, "but I probably could."
"I don't believe that. I remember–" He tuts, tapping your cheek. Your heart drops when you realize he's mirroring where his own brand is.
"I'm not what you remember," he says firmly, before whispering your name, "I'm not that Jason. Not really."
"Then who are you," You ask, even though you don't want to know the answer. You want to pretend he's still something you know.
His eyes dart over your face, then back down to the necklace, "I'm still Jason. But I'm also the Arkham Knight."
"What does that mean," You push, reach up to grab his wrist, demanding his attention, demanding real answers.
"It means that you stay. It means that I give you what you want. Everything and anything except leaving," he says, voice lowering to something kinder, gentler, "it'll make sense eventually. You'll be happy here. Safe."
"Will that make you happy?" You ask, fingers tightening on his wrist. Half of you wants to pull him away, stop him from tracing patterns over your cheek, but the other part of you wants to press his hand closer.
Something flicks in his eyes at your words, "Yes."
"Will it keep you safe?" You murmur, eyes locked on his.
He doesn't answer, clenching and unclenching his jaw for a moment, "Safety is an option I don't have."
"It could be, if you wanted it," You say, dropping his wrist. It must be true. Even with all the secrets he's keeping, his evasive disappearing act, he could take off the armor. Leave behind the new symbol engraved over his chest.
He laughs a little and swipes his thumb under your eye, "I'm glad that you don't understand. It's good, that they didn't twist you into something unrecognizable."
"Understand?" You prompt, unsettled by his laughter.
"That they need to pay. All of them do," he smiles a little, it's a mockery of the one you remember. Jason traces the choker one last time before stepping back.
"You're leaving," You say, not a question, a statement of fact. He's leaving, without explaining anything again.
"I am," he affirms, moving to grab his helmet.
"I want you to stay," You breathe out and he freezes in place.
He exhales softly and faces you again, "You don't know what you're asking."
"I do. I want you to stay," You repeat, reaching out to push his helmet back towards the dresser.
"And then what?" He asks lowly, a warning, "What do you expect to happen?"
It makes you waver, "I– I don't know. But it's what I want."
It's another long moment of nothing before he answers, gesturing towards the bed, "Go to sleep."
"You'll stay?"
He nods at your question, unceremoniously dragging the chair from your desk to your bedside.
"Is that going to be comfortable–" You begin, settling yourself in the bed.
"You're overthinking it," he mumbles, waving at you to lay down. You do, watching as your kitten jumps into his lap, curling up like this is something that happens all the time. (You have the feeling it is) "Have you named him," he asks quietly.
"The kitten? Mm, no. Wanted you to," You say softly, carefully not to unsettle either of them.
"I wouldn't be good at it," Jason protests, eyes flicking between you and the kitten.
"I don't mind," You murmur, "anything's better than 'kitten'."
He pauses, so quiet and still you think he won't answer, "Bean," he mumbles, reluctant as the newly appointed Bean cuddles into his armor.
You smile, "Bean's a good name."
He doesn't answer, seemingly engrossed with watching the kitten.
You take him in for another moment, memorizing his face before closing your eyes. It's not an accident that you leave your palm open and face up by the side of the bed.
There's no more pleasantries exchanged, no sweet goodnights or the gentle touches against your face you've grown used to. But just as you finally start to drift off, as darkness finally draws you to rest, a warm, rough hand weaves itself into yours and squeezes.
Part Three
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jayparked · 16 days ago
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heyy live ur writing style smmm😭
can we get 106 with Jay?🫶🏻
warnings: s2l, diner owner!jay x customer! f.reader, semi public sex in a closed restaurant, oral (f rec.), unprotected sex, slight dirty talk
wc: 1.4k
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"i'm not on the menu."
"w-what?" you stare at the diner owner with wide eyes. he's smiling while continuing to wipe down the counter you're sitting at.
"i gave you that menu ten minutes ago but you haven't looked away from me for a second. i'm starting to think i missed a spot shaving or something."
he's so nonchalant about what he's saying to you. as if his words didn't send chills down your spine or bring a bright flush to your cheeks.
"i-...i'm sorry, jay. i must have been zoning out..."
he flashes you a playful smirk, one that screams 'yeah, sure, whatever you say'. you're grateful he drops the subject, continuing to clean as the last few customers start to leave the diner before closing time.
"you know..." jay starts slowly, "you've been coming here every week for months..."
"...yeah?" you question cautiously, eyes peering over the menu to take in his casual stance: one elbow on the counter so his head can be pillowed by his palm, the other hand still holding the washcloth.
"why do you still ask for a menu? you and i both know you don't need it. i've got your weekly cravings down to a science now. "
you chuckle and set the menu down, opting to take a sip of water just after saying, "a science, huh?"
jay shrugs one shoulder, his gaze intensifying, "rainy days it's the soup of the day. when it's sunny you want the roast beef provolone sandwich with crinkle cut fries, a diet coke, and a pickle on the side. when you have a stressful day at school you want the pancakes with extra syrup. and when it's-"
"enough!" you hold up a hand and laugh. "i get it! i like my routine, i'm predictable, blah blah blah."
"not as predictable as i'd like you to be," jay deadpans in a husked tone. your thoughts mentally trip inside your brain and you gulp a little too loudly. seconds go by without either of you saying anything or looking away from one another. you know you should say something, anything at this point, but the words just won't come out.
"why do you still ask for a menu, y/n?"
your heart is pounding in your chest so hard it physically hurts. but now that the new year has started, you remember your goal: to be more bold, more brave, and to try not to shy away from what you want.
instead of taking the leap, you opt to answer his question...with a question.
"why do you let me order way past closing?"
jay nods his head, lips jutting out playfully, clearly not expecting the tables to turn on him so quickly.
"it's the only time you can come in. you're in lectures all day. and someone's gotta make sure you're eating after all that studying." jay gets himself upright, tossing the washcloth over his shoulder and giving you another smile before turning his back to you. he walks towards the soda machine, scooping a generous amount of ice into a glass and pressing his finger against the diet coke option.
"so you're saying...that i'm not like the other customers?" you try to come off as funny, playful, maybe even a little bit flirty, wiggling your eyebrow at his back for an extra quirky effect. but he doesn't laugh.
jay turns to you once the glass is full. slowly, he leans back down again, his face inching closer and closer to yours as he moves the glass towards you. his eye contact is hypnotizing; the way you can't break away no matter how badly you want to. you look up at him with curious, searching eyes, hoping to find any hint that what you're feeling for him isn't as crazy as you think it is.
"do you want to be like the other customers?" he murmurs so softly you almost don't hear it. he's close enough that you could reach out and touch him, close enough to pull him closer, just...close enough.
"no," you sigh dreamily, "i really don't."
finally, jay's eyes flick down towards your lips, his own lips parting slightly, a soft exhale escaping them.
his gaze meets yours again, something softer, pleading, now displayed in those deep brown eyes. "may i?"
"please," you whisper, your own eyes flicking to his lips now.
both of jay's hands come forward and softly cusp your cheeks, pulling you closer until your lips collide. after a few seconds, jay smiles widely, his teeth showing while his lips still hover over yours.
"say that again," jay murmurs, his eyes fluttering as they remain closed, thumbs brushing along your cheekbones.
you can't help but smile with him, your hands shaking as you reach out to grasp his wrists and squeezing them reassuringly. "please."
"mmm, fuck. that's gonna be a problem for me later," he groans, his words rushing out of his mouth because damn, he just needs to kiss you again.
and kiss you again he does. his lips now moving feverishly with yours. his hands wander away from your face until they're on your shoulders, moving down even more until he's grabbing you under your arms and pulling you onto the countertop. now, standing between your legs, he can finally kiss you properly. one hand is back on your cheek, warm and soft while the other grips your hip tightly, bracing himself with the contact. your own hands reach out to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his dark black hair. a particular overly excited tug has him moaning against your lips, making you inhale as the sound sends ripples of pleasure down your body. he continues to kiss you feverishly, the pace of the kisses quickening and suddenly your body is not satisfied with the amount of distance between you. you need him closer. the only thing you can think of is to wrap your legs around his waist, tightening your grip and pulling him into you even more.
after a few more moments of kissing pass, you're both forced to separate from one another to catch your breaths. he's looking at you with blown out pupils, panting with his now swollen lips parted slightly. he's beyond hungry for you, and you love the feeling of knowing you look exactly the same in his eyes.
"let's take it back to my place." he finally manages to get the words out.
"is this not technically your place?"
"you're right. god, you're so smart." with a mischievous grin jay grabs your body and lays you on the countertop, hastily throwing your legs over his shoulders and grabbing your ass and burying his face in your clothed cunt while you squeal with laughter. any innocent passerby could see what the two of you are up to. jay hadn't gotten to the part of his closing checklist that includes pulling the shades down on all the windows. hell, all the lights are even still on, making a lovely spotlight for the two of you amongst the dark city streets.
but you've dreamt of this moment for so long that you don't even care.
jay has your pants off seconds later, too impatient to continue to play around. he just needs to taste you after all those nights waking up in a cold sweat, cock twitching spurts of cum into his boxers after dreaming of what you would look like sitting on his face, riding his cock, or how you'd look under him as he pounded you senseless. and now, he doesn't have to imagine it anymore. groaning as he continues to ravage you, hands groping anywhere he can reach, his tongue flicking skillfully against your swollen clit.
"j-jay. oh my god!" you cry out, gripping the counter until your knuckles turn white, unprepared to come this quickly.
"my god, that's what you sound like screaming my name?" jay's standing now, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before moving to undo his belt. "so much better than i imagined. you're not going anywhere tonight. you're going to scream my name until you can't speak anymore. i want that throat raw in every way possible. but for now..." he groans as he pushes the tip of his cock into your hole, stretching you in new ways you haven't felt before. your body adapts to him quickly, though, as he begins to slowly thrust into you.
for part of my 1k follower celebration send me a member and a number from this list and i'll write a short drabble about it ♡ masterlist
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cybrasigilism · 5 days ago
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hellooo i love your works!! 🙇‍♀️
can i please request a dae-ho x fem!reader smut, where he saw the marks he left the night before and gets turned on again.
- 🍜
hello!! i’m so sorry i’m getting to your request so late, and thank you so much :]
Blissful Remembrance (Player 388/Kang Dae-ho X Reader)
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warning: smut | not proofread | lowercase intended | marking kink | oral (f! receiving) | PiV | dirty talk | this is my interpretation of this character, please be respectful even if my opinions on the character differ from your own
character: kang dae-ho (player 388)
A/N: i don’t want to talk about how long this request has been sitting in my inbox for, i feel awful! nevertheless i hope this was worth the unintended wait :) i wrote this in headcanon format because i fear no long-strung fanfiction is coming together in my brain in a cohesive manner right now
MDNI! 18+ content under the cut, readers discretion is advised
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
➛ sometimes it really felt like you were finding out new things about dae-ho every day. for this instance you had absolutely no idea that seeing the assorted marks he had left on your body the night previous would turn him on as much as it did
➛ god help you if you wore a revealing shirt, or low rise pants around the house the day after a particularly intimate session, because he would have you underneath him so fast
➛ hell, sometimes you would make these clothing choices on purpose purely because of how horny it made him. you just love how he gets when he’s desperate to fuck you; to make even more of those marks
➛ usually, dae-ho will stick to a gentle pace when you guys have sex. this completely turns on its head when he’s this horny, sometimes it seems like he’s a completely different person. you’re not complaining of course, you could definitely get used to the borderline chaos of it all
➛ will definitely engage in dirty talk in this state
“yeah, you know exactly what you’re doing to me”
“is this what you wanted? you want me to mark you up some more, huh?”
➛ leaves handprints on your ass for sure WHAT DID YOU SAY—
➛ leaves hickeys and light bite marks on your thighs before/after eating you out. he just loves the faces you make when he really takes his time down there
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
i know this is a shorter one! i’m just trying to get out of a slump, but thank you for reading it regardless! i promise i’m working fast as i can on these fics, i’ve got a lot of requests to get through :)
as usual, any advice/constructive criticism on how to improve my writing are appreciated and requested!
have a spectacular day/night lovelies 💞
tags: @gongyoosgf @agornotsworld @kvstjwonnie @marymustdie @pink-apples001 @wonestro @luvlyfandoms @putrescentpoet
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aireia · 11 months ago
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pretty. — shopping for your wedding gown went a little wrong.
tw/cw: tooth rotting fluff, not proofread, fluff/crack, reader wears a dress + satoru calls them his future wife —masterlist
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you smile and place your palms under your chin, wondering how you got to this point. your snowy haired fiancé is currently twirling around with a custom tailored wedding gown… which he wasn’t going to be wearing on your wedding day anyway, because he would never hear the end of it from his first year trio. okay, yuji probably wouldn’t have said anything, but nobara and megumi would bully him out of his own wedding. without a doubt, 100 percent.
your mind tried running through the events that had unfolded over the past two weeks, finally stopping at where everything started.
-
“pretty.” 
those were the only words that satoru gojo had to say the moment the both of you had found the perfect wedding dress for you. detailed right down to the final bits of the dress, it matched you perfectly with your favourite flowers weaved into the design, just the perfect length… it was everything you were looking for.
the sound of your soft laughter brought him out of his awestruck expression. “thank you, but as much as i love it, it feels just a little uncomfortable.” you sounded a little disappointed, and satoru couldn’t help but notice every little shift and movement you made… especially that mischievous look in your eyes and grin plastered on your face the moment you thought of a ‘solution.’ 
“maybe you should be the one in a dress at our wedding. i’m sure the strongest can handle a little bit of discomfort.”  
now, you and gojo had known each other for probably more than a decade. he knew better than anyone else that you were joking. but you were basically challenging him with that last sentence, right? 
he abruptly stood up from the couch he was sitting on once you had gotten to changing out of the wedding gown before marching off to one of the nearby employees and asking about any dresses his size, only to be met with the response of, “this is an unusual request, but there are quite a few dresses that would compliment you-” the employee coughed a few times before continuing, “-but we are closing soon, so there might not be enough time to try them on-” 
“i'll take all of them.”
“pardon?”
“including the one my future wife chose. okay thanks!”
the total came up to about 1.2 million yen. for a dress for you and those 3 gowns the employee picked out, it horrified everyone present at the counter. everyone but him, of course. 
back to present time, that’s how you found yourself being the one and only audience member for your beloved’s fashion show. for a good reason, you wanted to chew him out for spending that recklessly. then again, this is the same guy who decides to buy two of the same items no matter how expensive it is “just in case the other one goes missing.”
you sigh softly before turning your attention back onto him. he’s currently trying on the final dress, and has finally got rid of the sunglasses. you can’t help but admit that he actually looks good in the dress, sparkling with all the right types of gems and jewels, paired with his now visible long eyelashes, he looks pretty. 
“so? how do i look!!?” satoru asks with enthusiasm, spinning around you in circles. 
“hmm, maybe i should be the one wearing your suit that day instead,” you jokingly say to him. he understood, laughing before ruffling your hair. 
“as if i’d let you.” a comfortable silence filled the air afterwards, being broken afterwards by satoru confessing, “i dream of seeing you wearing that in front of me at the altar, you know?”
your eyes at this. you weren’t expecting him to say something like that so sudden. 
“i can wear it at night when-” satoru’s sentence was cut off by a light punch to his gut. 
“hell no.”
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by user @ aireia, do not plagiarize and/or translate.
@rninies still can't write fluff unfortunately, writing this fried my brain
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bagerfluff · 7 months ago
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Catboy Casper Headcanons - SFW/NSFW
hmmmm. Catboy!Casper, doing holy and unholy things to my brain
if you have any more headcanons feel free to reblog and had them. And if you want me to write a drabble or fic about one of these headcanons just ask
SFW
Catboy!Casper being the prettiest thing ever. I mean look at this. With his white ears and tail that match his hair. Tail slightly fluffy and ears just a little more fluffy.
Catboy!Casper being able to turn into a white cat with red eyes. Him sitting in your lap while you work. Cuddling up with your pet. Follow you when you leave. Imagine you look out a window or look down an alley way just to see red eyed cat looking at you
Catboy!Casper pushing his head up into your hand as you pet him. A small blush on his face as you play with his hair. Fingers running near the base of his ears, sometimes rubbing the backs of them
Catboy!Casper looking extra cute when he blushes with his ears pressed against his head and tail slowly swaying back and forth.
Catboy!Casper purring when he's comfortable. Purring when you hold him, purring when you kiss him, purring in his sleep cause he dreams of you.
Catboy!Casper pouting when you get home late. Ears flat on his head, arms crossed, tail still on the bed. Azrael in his arms, face buried on top of Azrael's head. It bringing him comfort as he waits for you. Ear's perking up when he hears the door open.
Catboy!Casper being hyper aware. His ears perk up at any sound outside the door, wondering if it's you. Him getting up just a few minutes after you. Hearing you get up and not smelling you near him anymore.
Catboy!Casper running up to you to hug you when you get home. Head resting on your shoulder, nuzzling his face into your shoulder. Displeased that you smell like other people. Ears perked up to listen to your voice, it being music to his ears. Tail wrapping around your leg, you were his.
Catboy!Casper curling up on your bed. Sleeping like an cat surrounded by your sent and sometimes even held in your arms. Azrael in his arms as he falls asleep content.
Catboy!Casper blushing at simple pet names like kitten. He'll try to deny it but he loves that pet name. Not like he can hide it anyway. His tail wags every time you call him that.
Catboy!Casper being scared of loud noises. He doesn't jump or scream, but he hissing and will scratch the nearest thing if he's scared. He won't admit it, but he really wants to cuddle you when he's scare. Which means it's up to you to cuddle him.
Catboy!Casper and his canines, Two sharp teeth on his top jaw. They look good but hurt when you kiss him. They leave two red dots when Casper lightly bites you. You love them though.
NSFW
Catboy!Casper and his pussy. He's a cat, of course he has one.
Catboy!Casper arching his back like a cat while you fuck him from behind. Tail wrapping around your leg to keep you there.
Catboy!Casper being extra needy in his heat. Always wanting to be fucked and whining when you don't fuck him.
Catboy!Casper fucking himself with a dildo when your at work. Just for you to come one early and see him bouncing up and down on it in your bed.
Catboy!Casper with his ears pinned to his head and tail constantly moving. Sometimes his tail curls forward to rub his dick.
Catboy!Casper begging for you to breed him. Cum in him. Give him your children. Despite what he says he would be a great dad.
Catboy!Casper making the cutest noises when toy fuck him. He whines and moans so loud that your neighbors definitely know what's happening. Not that you or Casper care.
Catboy!Casper loving praise and degradation. Call him your pretty little whore. Your perfect slut. The best kitten to breed. He'll melt and moan even louder then before.
Catboy!Casper finally getting his fill and falling against the bed. Tail still wrapped around your leg as you kiss his forehead. Casper expects that best after care and you don't mind, anything for your kitten.
Catboy!Casper and his sharp canines. Again with this. He loves to bite you when you fuck him. Most of the time drawing blood from the bite. He'll then lick the blood and admire the wounds he left on you. You don't mind that either.
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igotanidea · 5 months ago
Text
Too hot to handle: Jason Todd x reader
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SMUT MDNI!
As usual sorry for all the typos, grammar mistakes etc. I really had to post it XD
***
Y/N was fuming.
For no reason at all, falling down the internet hole, she found herself on some stupid forum for stupid horny women who couldn't keep it in their pants.
Clearly those bitches were getting hot and bothered for Red Hood, shamelessly sharing their dirty thoughts and comments on some parts of his body and the things he'd let him do if--
Fuck.
She could have Tim or Babs trace their IP addresses in a second and could pay them a visit of a very possessive, angered and super jealous girlfriend.
Her hands were almost itching to write a few spicy comments herself, spilling the beans of whose body Red Hood was touching almost every night. Whose lips he was devouring. Whose most sensitive parts he was tasting with his tongue, begging for as much as a drop of sweetness. Whose moans and gasps he got to hear, whose voice was his drug, whose curves he was worshiping on his knees.
Obviously, she couldn't do that, but the thought of Jason's muscled body on top of her, his hands tracing her skin and joining her in the intimate dance had a side effect seeping through her panties. 
She needed him. 
With the need that could not be satisfied with her fingers or even the toys she had stacked safely in the locked bottom drawer.
Jason ...
Come home...
Can't you sense how much I want you now...
She almost prayed to the moon on the sky to bring her lover back to her. 
***
That little tingling on his skin was something new and as much as he hated to put the thought into words, it was like a spider-sense. The one of Y/N’s second favorite self-appointed hero – spiderman.
Y/n…
Was that feeling because she was in danger?
Did someone hurt her? Did anyone dare lay a finger on his precious girl?
Jason gritted his teeth, clenching fists, anger at a purely potential enemy flooded his brain.
It was a quiet night either way, giving him a perfect opportunity to take a quick detour and check on his angel. Just a look and assurance that she was safe, to help him keep going and push him through all the shit and doubts.
Y/n….
***
He did not expect her to sit in front of Netflix at 2 am. She had work in the morning so why on earth was she watching the series?
“Hey!” he called, probably a little bit too loud, causing her to jump on the couch and almost drop the mug. “Sorry…”
“Next time give me a heads up, will you?” she muttered with a pout.
“Um- okay. What’s with the attitude?”
“Nothing.” Y/N scoffed angrily, turning back to the TV.
“Can I please get my girlfriend back? You know, the other one? Nice and caring? The one who would ask me if I’m hurt or maybe need patching or a post-patrol kiss?” Jason teased moving in front of the screen, successfully blocking it from her view. “Wait… Y/N, are you watching “Too hot to handle?" His laugh filled the room, because honestly that might have been the funniest thing in the whole week. His serious, a bit reserved, goody-two-shoes girl had her eyes on the show about horny singles.
“Shut up…”
“Oh, I will most definitely not shut up about it. Are you hinting at something, here? Cause you know, you don’t need a show like this if—” he switched a little, coming closer and leaning over her silhouette on the couch
“Shut up, Jason!”
“Whoa!” his hands raised in feigned surrender “someone’s feisty today, aren’t you?”
“I’m not feisty. I’m furious!”
“At what?”
“Girls!”
“Wait, what?” Jason frowned “I am confused.
“Girls! Women! The ones who are trying to bang and –”
“I thought you liked banging?” he sent her a knowing smirk
“Jason!”
 “Come on, sunshine, you cannot hide that blush.” He pointed out, brushing fingers over her reddened cheeks, raising her head so she had to look into his eyes “What’s gotten into you? Tell me the truth.”
“Stupid internet.”
“Mhm. Okay. Care to elaborate?”
“Did you know the girls are getting hot for the Red Hood on some stupid forum?”
“Nope. Did not. But… did it make you jealous?” he smirked, expecting her to deny and squirm in embarrassment that he accused her of such low feelings.
“Yeah…” Much to his surprise, she decided to be honest. It truly was a strange night. “Yeah, I was. Jealous and furious. Hence the “Too hot to handle” marathon.”
“Hm? Can’t see the correlation.”
“It’s so shallow and selfish and mean, but – the show is so silly and most possibly fabricated. I may, or may not have been trying to diminish women who are openly horny….?” Her voice became barely audible at the end, as if she was ashamed to admit her own .
“Oh, you silly little one.” Jason laughed, pulling her onto his lap and brushing hair out of her forehead. “You could have led with that.” His lips brushed over her forehead
“Hm? What do you mean?”
“You should have told me, that coming across girls leching over me-“
“Over Red Hood!” she interrupted and he only laughed again.
“Over me” he underlined  “- got your knickers in a twist.”
“It did not!”
Great, now she was trying to deny it. Too bad it was too late and he was in the mood for the games anymore. He felt the need to assure her that she was the one, though also expressing appreciation for said open horniness and for a little bit of jealousy. It made his ego soar.
“Didn’t it?” he teased, grabbing onto her waist and laying her on her back, hovering over her, moving fingers up her leg, until it reached the hem of her sleeping shorts. “Maybe I should check myself then?”
His hand brushed over the inside of her thigh, causing her to let out a sharp exhale.
“Oh, right… My little minx is not wearing panties at all. So it seems like you have been telling the truth after all. You did not get them in a twist…”
He leaned forward, pressing his lips to her, a sudden sweet distraction allowing him to yank those silly little shorts down, exposing her want without any care in the world. Opening her legs and wrapping them on his waist, without breaking the kiss for even a second, Jason pressed his weight on her, distributing it evenly on his forearms, to not crash her.
“Mmm. Tease.”
“And you love every second of it.” He smirked, grinding against her core, sacrificing his favorite tactical pants to her warmth and wetness. Not much of an exorbitant price for what was waiting at the finish line.
And even though it was just the beginning of the marathon, they were already gasping heavily, grasping onto each other, pulling each other closer and closer. She was so needy and he loved it. The more bothered she was, the easier it got for him to end on the winner’s podium. His cock was hardening by a second, making it almost painful to be kept in the pants, but he was holding back.
“Jason…” she moaned, reaching down his torso, sneaking hand under the waistband.
“Not yet, baby.” All she got in return was her hands pinned above her head in a very vulnerable position, completely at his mercy. And to add to it all, Jason lips attached to her pulse point, sucking the sensitive skin, making sure to leave a dark purple hickey. The one she wouldn’t be able to cover easily. “Not yet…” the grip on her wrists faltered for a second, but not enough to allow her to break free.
Jason was skillful and knew exactly what he was doing.  Feeding her with the false hope of freedom only for a second, only to grab her hands in one hand, using the other to roll her sleeping shirt up, exposing her breasts, but not taking it off fully.
“Hello, lovelies…” he muttered, before diving between her tits, getting the arching back and multiple sounds of pleasure in return. “Yeah… keep those sounds coming, baby…”
His lips traced a scorching path down her cleavage, making her want skyrocket, smirking upon the feeling of her legs tightening on his waist and her hips grinding against her jeans.
“Not yet.” He commanded again, pressing her back flat onto the couch. “Not yet…” his eyes flashed with something primal and animalistic. There was something devilishly turning on with having her naked under him, while he didn’t shed a single piece of clothing. And he was going to exploit that opportunity to the maximum.
With a quiet laugh that sounded almost sinful, Jason bent down and traced tongue over the flesh of her soft, warm breast, purposefully avoiding the little pink button that was begging for his attention. Yes, his ego was skyrocketing upon hearing her cries of pleasure and broken gasps of his name on her swollen lips, followed by the flexing of her body against his touch.
Yes, he might have been acting a little dominant, but they both knew it was not going to go on forever. 
Deep inside Jason was sweet and romantic, definitely putting soft, tender lovemaking over hard and rough sex.
And really, it didn’t take him long to give in to her pleadings and entreaties, moving lips to her nipple, sucking and biting on it gently.
“Oh yes!” she cried out, closing her eyes and from that moment things started taking on the pace. Jason groaned from the sensation of her breast in his mouth, letting go of her wrists, allowing her hands to tangle in his hair, only adding to the feelings burning inside his chest and groin. Abandoning lavishing attention on her chest, he guided her hands to the hem of his shirt and with  interlaced fingers and eyes never faltering from each other’s face they pulled it over his head, exposing his toned upper body, covered with fresh bruises and cuts.
“So you are hurt…” she whispered, touching the pads of her fingers to the newest purple mark on his pec.
“I didn’t notice…” his voice was deep, calming and full of adoration “All I notice right now is you…” he grabbed her hand pressing it to his lips, kissing all over her knuckles.
“Then come feel me too…” she moved upwards, pressing her lips to his, wanting to feel that chapped warmth on hers. And once their mouths met it was a sensation incomparable with anything else. Ironically (or not) making out like this, with their entwined bodies, separated only by the material of his pants, slowly, tenderly, focused only on each other, leaving the whole world behind was turning her on more than actual penetration.
Which did not mean she didn’t want to go all the way.
“Is it time yet?” she whispered, with a little bit of teasing in her voice, breaking the kiss only for a second.
“You are ruining the moment, sunshine.” He chuckled, tracing kisses up her cheek, all the way to her ear, softly biting on her earlobe, causing more tickling than actual pain. Y/N responded with a little chuckle as well, cupping his cheek, bringing his lips back to hers once more. Without breaking the making out for even one second, Y/N removed his belt and undid the button on his pants. Then, with a few kicks and swings of legs, they managed to set him free from his confines, finally feeling each other from head to toe.
“How’s your jealousy doing now…?” he teased, guiding himself to her entrance, grabbing onto her waist, rolling his fingers in tiny circles on her sensitive skin.
“Who’s ruining the moment now?”
“No idea. Who?” he chuckled. It was so good being with her like this. In the moment of intimacy, that was meaningful but deprived of the seriousness that could ruin the tenderness. Perfect mix of softness and love, seasoned with a bit of well balanced humor and  sarcasm that bonded them in the first place. “You ready for me, baby?”
“So ready.” She smiled, shifting and squirming to allow him to slide inside better and maximize the pleasure of unity for them both.
“Mh. Hello there…” he smirked and without missing a bit started to move inside her. Slowly, but intensely. Building up and drawing the tension. Moving hands on her body in time with the thrusts, fueling the fire that was meant to warm but not burn. “Is this what you wanted?” he looked at her face searching for the answers behind those e/c eyes, filled with longing and devotion.  
“Yeah… Good thing you helped me realize what it was that I wanted…” she started matching his movements, kissing him again.
The tension between their bodies was building slowly and steadily. There was no rush. They had all the time in the world, that suddenly shrunk to only them two.
Jason and Y/n.
Y/n and Jason.
Together.
Connecting seamlessly, with bodies joined and heart beating only for one another. Creating their own bubble of beauty and wonder in the darkness and danger of Gotham.
“I love you…” he muttered, leaning forehead on hers, needing to say those words before everything turn into the blur and haze due to the slowly approaching tidal wave of climax.
“I love you…” she responded, feeling the exact same need, knowing well enough that those three little words exchanged before the post-bliss was far more meaningful and far more true.
***
“How’s the hate on horny women doing now?” he muttered against her hair, some time later. It could have been minutes as well as hours cause once they busted the pleasure door open time suddenly became relative and meaningless.
“Hm? What women? Wait a second. Are you really trying to tell me there are other women somewhere?’ she looked at him with a tease, raising an eyebrow playfully. “I am fairly convinced there are only you and me. No other men or women anywhere.”
“Hm… What I’m hearing is that I’m the only guy in the world for you?”
“It depends on—”
“Because sure as hell you are the only woman for me.” He added quickly, knowing what her condition was. “And no silly internet forum or contestant of so-called hot, naughty Netflix show could change it.”
“You got soft, Red Hood.” She smiled, nuzzling into his chest and placing a little kiss on his chest, close to his heart
“I can be hard when it counts, though.” His heart picked up the pace as her lips touched his skin “Honestly I can be anything you may need from me.”
“How about we both stay ourselves?”
“Works for me.”
Jason's arms wrapped around her pulling her to his chest for more and more aftercare and cuddles. It was a quiet night after all and he could indulge in some time with his beloved Y/N.
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