#thank u i hope i’m making sense in my responses
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euphor1a · 1 year ago
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💘💫🎀🎈💌 for the ask thing <3
Thank you for sending thru <3
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💘 Is there any posted fic you want to rework/re-edit/re-write?
→ Nope. If you asked me this question on my old blogs, I’d probably say yes. But since then I’ve moved blogs and am in the process of rewriting pretty much everything I had 😭, so no. Maybe 2 years later I’ll say yes to this question again (as I post more new stuff) but it’s a very big no for now.
💫 what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?
→ Just so you know, I’ll take everything and anything from long essay to a paragraph to a single sentence or even emojis as feedback!!!!! But, if we’re talking about favorites, I must say reviews that quote certain dialogues or paragraphs or some random sentences and proceed to gush about that specific part are very, extremely dear to my heart 😭! I haven’t received feedback like that since forever sjdhjfhj but previously, I used to be part of this small fandom and reblogs with such comments were the norm there. I genuinely cannot tell you how much it means to an author when you pin-point something you liked and go ham over it ahgdgkjsfjkdfjksfjk it’s so 😭😭😭😭 wholesome and endearing </3 !!! And p.s: a comment or some sort of feedback can NEVER be annoying to a writer as long as it’s positive!
🎀 give yourself a compliment about your own writing
→ I think I’m pretty good at writing emotions and how a character is feeling in different circumstances. Also, my style is relatively simple but I guess that’s not necessarily a bad thing? My grip on the english language isn’t so good that I can be super poetic or something, but I have my moments!!!
🎈 describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change?
→ I don’t exactly have a way to describe my style as a writer because it’s literally never the same (specifically the actual writing process). I am genuinely more of a daydreamer than writer 😭! My imagination has no bounds and I can spend days picturing a novelworthy fic but the moment I try to write it.... 🤕😣😵 It’s a massive reason why my progress is so slow and why I’m never satisfied with what I end up typing. It’s like... the whole thing is SO GOOD in my head. But when I try to type it down it just never turns out the way I want to :( ?! This is also why you guys don’t see longer fics from me often. Ahgdgkjsfjkdfjksfjk it’s SO FREAKING annoying 😔!
💌 share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!
→ You know what, the amount of longer fics I have in my wips is insane. If only I could EVER finish them n share with you guys :( ... All sorts of aus and pairings and genres are in there. And it’s all so exciting but 😭😭 sigh... If you want some tea on for sure upcoming stuff though, I only have bf chronicles’ next part to talk about as I’ve been focusing on it entirely as of late. Let me just say that it’s painful to work on. Cause bfc!mingyu is way too much for my own mental well being and it’s extremely hard to work on it without going through a manic episode of a delulu kpop stan. Yes, I said it. If you’re asking for something entirely brand new though,,,, I’ll be posting something no one expects from me. (Read a fic for a group I don’t write for; also, misc. masterlist coming soon)
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— let’s get real! fic writer asks ✉️ ( inbox )
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lightseoul · 14 days ago
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hi! please could you do number 7 with the mc having a ghost-related quirk??
decided to quickly write this one just in time for halloween! i hope y'all enjoy this little piece amidst the boop war we all find ourselves in right now lol. thank you for playing n have a nice day <3
(this is lightseoul's 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i'll whip something up!)
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7. "THE GHOSTS WOULD DISAGREE WITH YOU." (1.3k)
“you’re a fucking weirdo, you know that?”
you don’t even look up from the churro you’re munching on, opting to ignore the ash-blonde sitting right next to your left.
“what,” he continues, and if you didn’t know any better, he’s starting to sound a little annoyed. “you’re not even gonna defend yourself?”
what you’re not about to do is tell him you’ve heard that taunt over and over again growing up, lest you end up seeming pitiful, which you aren’t.
so you merely shrug. “i don’t see the point. i know it’s not true.”
at that, you finally glance at the man, who’s looking nothing short of speechless under the dim light of the lounge that’s decked out with ‘spooky’ embellishments.
cute is the first thing that comes to mind.
he just fucking insulted you is the next.
still, you can’t help the smile that takes over your features. “you’re the weird one, anyway. why would you say that to your date?”
bakugou promptly breaks eye contact, choosing to stare at the human skeleton that’s conveniently parked at the corner of the room. you follow his line of vision, and you have to stop yourself from snorting at the sight.
the people manning this haunted house-themed attraction sure took budget decorating to the next level.
beside you, the pro-hero huffs. “i’m only saying that because this is your idea of a good first date,” he gestures vaguely to your surroundings, an incredulous expression on his face as he tosses you a pointed look. “a horror escape room? really?”
“what?” you say, trying to sound the slightest bit defensive for the sake of it. “it gives us plenty of excuses to get closer.”
whatever bakugou expected you to say in response, it surely wasn’t that.
the man only splutters, quickly diverting his gaze and plopping back against his seat with his muscled arms folded across his broad chest like a petulant child.
he then mutters something that you wouldn’t have caught for the life of you if it weren’t for the thing.
you grin.
“you wanted me to latch onto you for safety? you could’ve just said so.”
almost instantaneously, bakugou whips to stare at you, an absolutely horrified expression etched all over his face.
“what the fuck?”
you flash him the most innocent look you can muster. “what?”
he’s now glaring at you, but there’s no missing the redness that has crept up the high planes of his cheeks. he opens his mouth as if to say something but hesitates. he tries again, gaze fixated on you for a couple more seconds until he shakes his head in disbelief.
“…there’s no fucking way.”
you shrug again, but bakugou only stares at you, eyes squinting in suspicion. “unless…”
and, in a blink of an eye you almost could’ve missed it if you weren’t staring at him yourself, you see profound realization dawn on his features.
you gulp despite yourself.
“you have a fucking quirk?”
the truth must have been written all over your exterior, because the man leans back in slow motion like the way one would when faced with a relatively shocking revelation.
you rub at the back of your neck, suddenly feeling too self-conscious. this was the part that always made you feel uncomfortable, no matter what the context.
but especially during a first date.
“i never said i was quirkless…”
“yeah, no shit,” he retorts, not missing a single bit. “what is it, superior hearing or something?”
you shake your head slowly, “no, but it does make me privy to things that i don’t perceive with my own senses.”
bakugou’s eyebrows furrow in what you think is confusion. “what else?”
“uh—” you pause, eyes drifting down to your fiddling fingers, “—i can also levitate, be invisible, and permeate through things.”
when he doesn’t say anything for a moment, you finally chance a glance at the man, and he’s looking honest-to-god gagged.
pro-hero dynamight is fucking gagged and it’s because of you.
before he can get a word in, though, you quickly follow it up with: “but they make me so nauseous that i can barely pull them off. they’re useless, really.”
when you’re met with nothing but silence, you continue.
“i know,” you chuckle, although it comes out awkward and stilted. “it’s weird. you’re right, after all. i was just messing with you.”
more silence.
not knowing what else to do or say, you take a huge bite of your pastry, although you’re far from hungry, stomach now churning in embarrassment.
you’re in the middle of chewing the remnants of your last bite when bakugou finally speaks up.
now, you’ve heard about how the #9 pro-hero, despite his aggression and temper and generally unpleasant personality, is exceptionally intelligent, perceptive, and intuitive, but you never really thought much about it.
not even when you found out a few hours earlier that the blind date your friends set you up with was your distant superior dynamight himself.
and while you always had a thing for capable men, you didn’t want to fall early and hard lest you hurt yourself in the process. so you merely pushed back against the prejudices and expectations you had of him, and decided to just observe the person who was actually in front of you for the rest of your date.
but when he says the next thing, everything you’ve heard about him suddenly makes sense.
“…so it’s a ghost quirk.”
you don’t even get the opportunity to choke on your churro or gape at him because bakugou shakes his head so fervently, before: “that’s such a fucking waste.”
“e-excuse me?”
at your query, he locks eyes with you. “you have a strong-ass quirk, yet you’re working in admin for us. you could be doing more.”
a thousand questions fight to escape your lips, but what manages to emerge victorious is: “how’d you know i’m working admin for ground riot?”
bakugou scowls at you, but again, there’s that scarlet on his cheeks. he doesn’t answer your question, though, instead going for: “that’s your fucking takeaway?”
you shrug, not knowing what else to say. “i know my quirk is strong. but i was always made to feel like i was weird and creepy for it growing up—and until now, actually, which is why i don’t really talk about it—so i just learned not to use it.”
“well, most of it,” you add, and bakugou cocks his head to the side in question.
you take a shaky inhale.
“…ghosts still choose to talk to me.”
“that how you pick up on things beyond your five senses?”
you try not to gawk at him and at how fast he put two and two together. “…yeah.”
neither of you says anything for a few moments before bakugou finally shifts in his seat, rolling his shoulders back.
as he does so, he pipes up with: “well, i guess they’re not always accurate, though.”
you frown. although you rarely use your quirk, you still pride yourself in your capacity. “what do you mean?”
at that, bakugou turns to regard you, an unidentifiable expression on his face. “i did not want you to latch onto me.”
this time, you really can’t help it. you snort, and that grants you a glower from the pro-hero. you take it in stride, though, waving him off.
“sure, big guy.”
“don’t—” he sits up, “fucking—i’m serious—”
“yeah, but the ghosts—” he throws you a punch, which you dodge, “would disagree—” you dodge another, “ with you—” he barely misses you, “—though,” you finally finish.
and really, you don’t even need your trusty ghosts to know that—the blush that’s taken over the entirety of his face is all the proof you need.
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cuntperv · 3 months ago
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Saw you were taking requests and decided to drop on in! I’ve been really trying to push the “Leon loves goths” agenda and just wanted to see if you had an ideas for cute rookie!Leon having the hots for a goth. You can make it as sfw or nsfw as you want. I just can’t stop thinking about smothering him in black lipstick kiss marks ahh.
ROOKIE! LEON KENNEDY & GOTH CHICK
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∿ warn . nsfw under cut, riding, tit sucking, leon calls you mommy!
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this is a drabble! so the quality isn’t very good :(( vaguely proof read too so WAAA BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY! 3k words :33 when i tell you i CHEERED when i saw this in my inbox, i’m being so fr! i’m a proud goth so seeing the goth chick agenda being spread.. UGH! the dream don’t play. goth girl x leon is so real.. WRITING RULES | PINNED
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when leon first saw you, he couldn’t look away. he really did try to tear away his gaze from you, but he physically couldn’t help but ogle at your outfit and overall disposition. he’s never seen someone with that sense of style you had outside of media — he vaguely knows what goths are, he’s seen goths displayed in movies and shows, like nancy downs in the craft, or late at night when mtv played the cure.
it was surprising to see you in raccoon city, with clothing that made it seem like you had just stepped out of a funeral and heavy eyeliner that made you resemble the dead.
in a midwestern small town, you don’t often see people with alternative fashion, and seeing you in full gothic attire was like finding a needle in a haystack.
it was almost funny how mundane setting was, leon had just stepped inside the local coffee shop near the police station to grab some coffee before his shift, and here you were, tucked away in the corner of the shop idly reading a book. he would’ve expected to see you at the local hot topic or the morgue, but no, you were just.. reading.
your nose was stuck inside a stephen king novel, carrie, leon thinks — he couldn’t make out the cover words as he stood by the cashier counter.
you were listening to music too, leon saw the cassette resting on the table and the headphones that covered your ears, he wondered what were you listening to. the cure? honestly, that’s the only gothic band he knows, he mainly focuses on listening to grunge, maybe the NSYNC when he needs a change of pace. would you hate that? frown down at him because he likes the occasional boy band? he hopes not.
leon was snapped out of his thoughts when the barista called out to him, “sir, can i help you?” she asked sweetly, tensing in surprise, leon looked back at the woman and cleared his throat. “oh, uh, yeah!” he said quickly.
after giving the barista his order, he paused, glancing back at you. you still read, blissfully unaware of his glances, “hey, does she come here often?” leon whispered as he turned to face the barista, subtly gesturing over to you. the barista raised her eyebrow as she looked over leon’s shoulders to you. “occasionally, but only at night.. some of my workers are convinced she’s like a vampire or something.” the woman laughed, mocking you as she looked back at leon. “what? is she scaring you, officer?” she teased, a small grin coming up to her lips.
leon shook his head, “no, no—“ he paused, “..what did she order?” he asked, realizing how stupid he might look.
the barista’s grin faltered, not expecting that response.
“uh.. vanilla coffee, why?” she questioned.
“can i add that to my order?” leon asked, he wanted to talk to you, and he wanted to seem as natural as possible to not seem like some creep.
the barista paused as she glanced back at you, “oh, yeah! yeah, of course, is that all?” she asked as she took her notepad out again. leon nodded his head, raising his hand to scratch the back of his neck, “uh..yeah, ma’am, thank you.” he said quietly, nodding his head at her once more to show his gratitude before he took out his wallet.
after paying, leon stood by the counter, stealing glances over at you. once the coffees were ready, leon perked up and took them, walking over to your table.
once he reached your table, leon cleared his throat, holding the two steaming cups of coffee as he thought about what to say.
“excuse me?” he called out, hoping to get your attention from the book without having to stand there awkwardly. he had one mission tonight: to get your number.
while you read, you noticed how a figure had come up to you by your peripheral vision. taking your attention away from your reading, you looked up to see who was bothering you. you weren’t expecting to lock eyes with a police officer, it was the last thing you expected. tensing, you were startled, why was there a police man looking down at you? you hadn’t been a disturbance to the shop.
furrowing your eyebrows, you put your book down and took off your headphones before pausing your cassette.
“can i help you?” you asked, distaste clear in your features.
leon just stared, baby blue eyes taking in how pretty your makeup was. it wasn’t full traditional gothic glam, yet the detail in your eyeliner and perfectly coated black lipstick was impressive. leon bit the inside of his cheek before he took in a deep breath and shifted, “uh,” what was he supposed to say? “sorry, i was watching you earlier—“ horrible start, leon! “— and i just think you’re pretty, i like your..makeup and clothes.” he stammered. god, get it together, kennedy!
you paused, the tension in your shoulders releasing, that’s not what you expected at all.
as someone with alternative fashion, you’ve had your fair share of problems with people of authority. the world seems to love assuming that you’re satanic and plan to burn down churches, you’re nothing more than a girl that enjoys indulging in gothic media. from songs, to books, to movies, and make up. it’s just who you are.
nonetheless, having a cop, out of all people, compliment you was endearing.
you eyed the chubby cheeked cop, noticing the two cups of coffee in his hands. he was cute, with those bright blue eyes and preppy look, “aw, thanks.” you began, a small smile curling on your lips.
“what are the two coffees for?” you mused, your eyebrows raising in interest as you looked at the cups.
leon pursed his lips and glanced away, damn, why was he was acting bashful? looking back at you quickly, he let out a breathless chuckle, “i got one for you,” he said, offering you the cup. “thought it could help break the ice.”
you reached out and took the cup off his hands, a small laugh leaving your lips, this guy was charming.
“it’s working,” you mused before putting the carton cup to your lips, you took a small sip, a hum of delight leaving your lips as the warm liquid touched your tongue. vanilla, your favorite. “how did you know i liked vanilla?” you questioned.
leon shifted, “lucky guess?” he said, deciding not to mention he asked the cashier.
squinting, you nodded before putting the cup down. “so.. what do you want officer?” you asked, wanting to know the motive behind his actions, leon moved his hand up to scratch behind his neck. “i was hoping to get your number?” he said, looking at you like a hopeful puppy.
“you want my number?”
“yeah, i wanna get to know you better.”
a small smirk curled on your lips, “alright, officer.” you said, reaching into your bag, you slipped out a pen before reached for the table napkins.
leon watched intently, you swore his eyes seemed to be sparkling.
“i don’t know your name.” you pointed out while scribbling your number down onto the napkin, leon straightened up, “oh, right.. leon kennedy.” he introduced himself, glancing over at his digital watch. leon mentally winced as he realized he was already late to work.
nodding, you finished writing your number before standing up. “alright, leon, i’ll wait for your call.” you hummed, glancing at him with a small smirk before grabbing your bag and coffee. handing him the napkin, you walked away, leaving him staring at you like a lost puppy.
you were so pretty and confident, an air of mystery followed you that made leon want more.
taking the napkin in his hand, he read it.
xxx-xxx-xxxx — call me ;)
just then he realized, he didn’t know your name.
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your room was chilly, closer by nine inch nails playing in the background, the song was muffled and quiet, leon’s focus was completely on you.
his lips were pressed against yours, making out with you sloppily, a moan slipped past his lips as the two of you kissed. his hands were wrapped around your body while you straddled his lap. leon’s body was hot, you were taking the lead with this and he didn’t mind — your body pressed against his while your arms were wrapped around his neck.
the kiss was eager and messy, leon’s hands resting against your back as they clutched the back of your lacy black bra, shaky hands trying to work on taking off your bra.
once oxygen began to come between the two of you, you pulled back with a gasp, a string of saliva connecting your lips before you pulled back, your hands moving to cup his face as you looked down at him. panting, leon’s eyes locked with yours, your black lipstick smeared, coating his bruised lips.
a small smile curled on your lips before you aided him with unclasping your bra, quickly tossing it to the side, your tits perking in full display. “like ‘em?” you hummed, moving your hands to cup your breasts and push them up, leon’s eyes widened when he noticed two barbells adorning your perky nipples — your nipples were pierced and his cock was aching.
nodding like an idiot, leon shuddered, “y-yeah.” he confirmed, his hands moving to cup your breasts, greedy hands squeezing the mounds of fat, watching as the fat poked through the gaps between his fingers. he groped them like a hormonal teenage boy that’s never had a face full of tits before.
“they’re soft..” leon mumbled, squeezing and fondling.
letting out a huffing laugh, you plucked his greedy hands away from your perky tits and reached down to his pants, his denim jeans pressing tightly against his clothed cock.
shuddering, leon glanced down with wide eyes as your smaller hands palmed his cock.
a soft moan left leon’s lips, his hips twitching upward against your touch, eager for more. you moved your hand up to the zipper of his pants and expertly undid the button and zipper, leon wondered how many people you’ve been with before him. your movements were eager and precise, you had experience — it made leon’s heart tumble as he realized he didn’t match your level, yet a blossoming excitement filled his tummy.
you were going to make him putty in your hands and he was excited.
hooking your fingers on the elastic band of his pants and underwear, you tugged down the fabrics, a shaky gasp leaving leon’s lips as he felt his cock spring up from the restraints.
his throbbing cock stood proudly, the tip sticky with pre-cum while the tip blushed a rosy color.
your hand wrapped around his cock, giving him slow pumps before your gaze locked with his, “you have a pretty dick,” you mumbled, your lips curling up in a playful smile.
leon trembled, his hands moving back to clutch the black comforter of your bed. leon’s cheeks burned red as he looked down at your hand as you stroked his cock. looking up at you, he shuddered, “b-baby,“ he mumbled, “m’need you.” leon babbled.
“yeah, baby?” you mused, slipping your hand away from his cock to nestle yourself properly on his lap.
“you need me?” you repeated.
leon nodded his head, baby blue eyes lidded as he stared at you.
“s’much, please.”
you bit your bottom lip and hummed, moving to grasp his cock again before moving your hand down to your panties and pushing the fabric aside, quickly adjusting yourself above his aching cock, you lowered yourself, his tip kissing your folds.
leon was a pretty sight, he already looked fucked out and you haven’t even put his cock in, there was something about your boyfriend looking so shaky and needy under your touch that made your cunt throb. your pussy was wet and sticky, eager to feel him around your warm walls.
leon’s hands moved to your hips, his large hands squeezing the fat of your hips eagerly.
“c’mon, please, baby— please.” he pleaded, trying to roll his hips up to try and slip his cock inside your pussy.
“aw,” you smirked, tilting your head to the side, “relax, i’ve got you.” you teased, babying him.
in one swift movement, you slipped down onto his cock, a small moan of relief leaving your lips as your cunt sucked leon’s shaft eagerly. you’ve a handful of dicks inside you before, so it wasn’t uncomfortable, but leon’s body trembled.
feeling your warm walls hug his girth snugly made leon see stars.
he threw his head back as a choked moan left his lips, his eyes shutting tightly as he got accustomed to the feeling. holy shit.
panting, he squeezed your hips tightly, leaving crescent shaped marks on your skin as he dug his nails into your flesh.
“f-fuck—“ leon stammered, his eyes fluttering open and meeting your gaze. his breathing was shaky and you haven’t even moved yet — he really didn’t have much experience. leon has fucked before, he slept with his ex-girlfriend every now and then but her libido was low and leon was hormonal, the most solace he got was a hefty amount of lotion and his fist, but this? this was fucking brain altering.
slowly, you began to roll your hips again his, a soft breath leaving your lips as you felt his girthy cock push against your walls, savoring the feeling.
letting your hands rest against leon’s chest, you dug your black manicured nails against his pale skin. leon wasn’t shy about his pleasure, the moans leaving his lips were needy, whiny, and loud.
“like that?” you moaned, glancing down at him as your hips bounced against his, his cock slipping in and out of your pretty pussy, the tip pressing flush against your cervix, giving it kisses with each roll of your hips.
“y-yes,“ he gasped.
each roll of your hips felt like a surge of electricity slipping through leon’s veins, “s’good—“ he slurred, clenching his jaw as he let out a heavy breath. his grip on your hips remained tight and firm, his hips rolling up against your own, desperately trying to match your pace, but it was sloppy.
you let out a soft sigh, moving up to cup his face in your hands, leon’s gaze moved up to your face, big blue puppy dog eyes meeting yours.
smirking, you moved your chest to his face, moving his head against your plush tits.
getting the message, leon eagerly popped one of your pierced nipples into his mouth, his warm tongue pressing and flicking your bud like a baby. he moved his hands up to your waist, holding you close while he suckled eagerly.
shuddering, you let out a moan as leon sucked on your tits.
continuing to bounce on his fat cock, leon was seeing stars. being able to suck on your fat tits while your cunt actively sucked his cock back inside was making his brain fuzzy while a tight coil began to form inside his tummy.
he moaned against your skin, his balls beginning to tighten while his cock throbbed.
“gonna cum, m’gonna cum, mommy—“ he moaned, his cheek pressed against your tit while his saliva coated his skin.
he was too pussydrunk to realize he called you that, but you heard him. your eyebrows raised in surprise, “mommy?” you mused, a small smirk curling in your lips, “gonna cum for mommy?” you teased, moving your hand to the back of his head, your finger tangling between the locks of his hair. you pulled on his hair, pushing him away from your tits to look into his eyes.
leon nodded eagerly, his hips rolling against your hips.
“yes, mommy.” he gasped.
a small laugh left your lips before you let of of his hair and continued to bounce on his cock, “go ahead then, cum for mommy.” you babied, pressing your lips against his forehead, your black lipstick staining his skin.
leon moaned, his eyes rolling back as his lips parted, his lips were glossy with his saliva as his hands moved down to your hips. he gripped your body tightly as he began to maneuver you, guiding your hips against his as he fucked his hips upward.
his movements were sloppy, leon’s brain zeroing in on chasing his high.
the coil in his tummy began to tighten, he was desperate, forcing you up and down his cock like you were nothing but a pocket pussy.
you were surprised by the sudden change of pace, sometimes you forget that leon is much stronger than he seems. gasping, you felt your cunt get fucked with each thrust upward, your tits bouncing at the force while the sound of your pussy squelching around his cock got louder.
whimpering, leon bit his bottom lip harshly, he was right at his peak, and with one final thrust, he pulled you down onto his cock before his cum spurted out.
his tip nuzzled right against your battered cervix, his cum filling your pretty pussy up. thick, sticky, and milky.
leon’s back arched, his toes curling while his body trembled. he gasped and panted, a deep groan leaving his lips. he hasn’t cum that hard in forever, actually— he doesn’t think he’s ever cum that hard, his head was swirling while his body shook with the aftershock of his climax.
you let out a small moan when leon slammed you down onto his cock, your breathing steadying as he filled your cunt up with his cum.
after a few seconds, you felt leon’s cock slowly getting soft inside you, but you didn’t make any attempts to move. “leon?” you mused, feeling leon nuzzle against your chest again.
“yeah?”
you hummed, slowly moving to roll your hips against his again, his body immediately tensing as his sensitive cock got rubbed against. he squeezed you and gasped out a choked breath, wanting to stop you, needing a break to get down from his high, but the words were stuck in his throat.
“you’re getting me a plan b later.” you moaned, smirking as you felt him tremble.
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tags 〜 @rigorwhoring @nilpill @cubedkennedy @ottermarbles @dollivication @dilfmaagnet @v0lturiaq @maes-mind555 @antagonize-me-motherfucker @luvrgreyy @arminsbf @sprawberry @xxfritzz @flutterylust @angelstargel @cockiiess @ghosty-the-doll @crystaksack
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sansaorgana · 4 months ago
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Hiii, I’m so I’m love with Benny ❤️
Can u write about Benny x reader. She’s raising her baby niece or nefew and benny with the whole attitude about we’re going to marry, says that the baby is good for practice when they have their own kids ❤️❤️❤️
hello, sweetheart 💝 thank you for your request 🥺 I really enjoyed to write Benny with a kid 😌 by the way, apparently in real life Kathy had two kids when she met Benny! 😳 (and she was like 25 while he was 19) anyway, I decided that our Reader is raising her nephew who is 7 years old and – which probably is a TW – Reader's sister is dead + drugs overdose is mentioned
I had to close my requests for now because I got so many 🙏🏻
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You were a new waitress at the diner and the local bad boy named Benny Cross had taken an interest in you. He kept coming around and flirting with you, flashing that pretty smile as he ordered a sandwich or a beer by the counter, showing off his tan and tattooed muscles. You would roll your eyes at him usually but you agreed for him to drive you back home after a few shifts, especially those evening and night ones. 
After two weeks of him driving you back home in the back of his motorbike, you ended up standing awkwardly on your driveway with him staring you up and down. It was an evening and you bit your lip as you looked at your feet, hoping he wouldn’t propose something indecent.
“You live alone?” He asked. Usually, he would just nod his head and drive away without a word.
“Depends what you mean by that?” You asked with a chuckle.
“Parents?” Benny tilted his head.
“No,” you answered honestly.
“Husband?”
“No,” you chuckled. “If I had one, you would have known already, don’t you think?” You teased but he only shrugged his arms. “Listen, I gotta go…” You pointed at the house behind you with your thumb, playing nervously with the keys in your hand.
Benny nodded at that but he looked a little disappointed. He probably wanted you to invite him inside but you couldn’t. Not with Jack sleeping upstairs.
“Benny,” you grabbed him by his strong arm and squeezed the fabric of the leather jacket. “Thank you,” you smiled at him and he nodded again but the disappointment was still there, written all over his face.
After all, he wasn’t your chauffeur for a thank you, right?
Unsurely, you leaned in and batted your eyelashes, too scared to make the first move. However, Benny didn’t need more encouragement than that – he grabbed you by your face, pulled you closer and joined your lips together in a devouring kiss. He smelled like cigarettes, beer and gasoline. It was making you dizzy as this masculine scent overwhelmed your senses while his tongue had found its way inside your mouth. You started to feel weak in your knees and you grabbed him by his vest to keep steady as a soft moan left your lips. It made him smirk before he broke the kiss.
You kept staring at his face, lit by the streetlamp nearby. His baby blue eyes, all the moles on his face, his golden hair… And he kept staring at you back, examining every little detail of your face as well, still keeping you close.
“I don’t work tomorrow,” you told him. “You can drop by for lunch or dinner,” you proposed.
“Sounds right to me,” he agreed. “Good night, kitty,” he rubbed your nose with his and moved away to hop on his bike.
He started the engine loudly and you waved after him before rushing inside the house to check on Jack. You hated to leave him alone for your evening or night shifts but you had no other choice as the only provider. He was only seven years old but he had to be pretty independent for a boy his age – you would leave him dinner to heat up after school and he had to deal with homework on his own. Then, some TV, a shower and going to bed – all on his own. You were grateful that he was a good boy and he was doing all these things responsibly instead of rebelling and staying out for hours or watching TV all night long. But you were also aware of the fact he would soon become a teenager and start to rebel and you dreaded the day.
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You were in the kitchen, cooking pasta. The lunchtime was already over so you assumed Benny would come by for dinner. You kind of wished you had asked him about the exact hour when he would show up because you were ready since noon – all dolled up and nervous.
Yeah, he was coming to the diner and he was flirty here and there, taking you home and all that. But overall you didn’t know him much and he wasn’t very talkative most of the time. It would be the first time you’d spend time like that together. And he still had no idea about Jack… 
It was Saturday and Jack was upstairs in his room, drawing pictures. It was his favourite hobby. You had told him that you would have a friend coming over and he was very excited, so you hoped it wouldn’t end up as awkward.
When the doorbell rang, you turned the oven off and wiped your hands in your apron before approaching the front door. Benny was leaning on the doorframe with a smug smile.
“Hi,” you greeted him.
“Hi,” he looked you up and down and smiled even wider. He seemed to like your apron. “Am I interrupting somethin’?”
“I’m cooking dinner, come in,” you invited him and he entered the house.
He looked around and you encouraged him to follow you to the kitchen. He did and you turned the oven back on as he sat by the kitchen table.
“I’m making spaghetti, I hope it’s okay,” you informed him.
“Yeah,” Benny leaned back on the chair and tilted his head at Jack’s drawings on your fridge. “They’re yours?” He asked with a chuckle.
“They’re for me,” you explained.
But before you could say anything more, you heard loud, booming footsteps. Jack was running downstairs to see your friend. You swallowed thickly at the sight of him entering the kitchen with an excited smile as Benny froze for a while and blinked a few times in disbelief.
“Is that your friend?” Jack asked and put his hands behind his back. “Good afternoon, sir,” he nodded his head at Benny and you smiled at that.
“His name’s Benny,” you approached him and ruffled his hair. “Benny, that’s Jack,” you introduced them to each other with a heavy heart, hoping that Benny wouldn’t run away at this very moment or say something rude.
You didn’t want to reveal too early that Jack wasn’t your kid. First of all, you didn’t want to vigorously deny that in front of him to avoid him feeling rejected even though Jack knew very well that you were his aunt. Second of all, it was a good test for Benny. His reaction would tell you a lot about his character.
Once the first shockwave disappeared, Benny cleared his throat and extended his hand.
“Hi, I’m Benny,” he introduced himself. Jack shook his hand proudly, feeling important. “I’m (Y/N)’s friend.”
“Are you the one with the motorbike?” Jack’s eyes widened.
“Yeah. Wanna see it after dinner?” Benny proposed.
“Yup!” Jack clapped his hands. “You know, the engine always wakes me up at night,” he told Benny. “Wait! I’m gonna show you something!” He ran out of the kitchen.
An awkward silence occurred between Benny and you.
“Is he your kid?” Benny asked casually. “How old is he?”
“Seven,” you only answered the second part and watched him furrow his brows as he kept counting something with his fingers like preschooler.
“How old are you exactly?” He seemed to be confused.
“Fourty,” you joked.
“Oh, wouldn’t tell,” Benny’s eyes widened and you chuckled because it was adorable how he believed you.
“Benny, I was joking,” you explained and put your hands on your hips, checking on the pasta with the corner of your eye.
“It don’t matter to me, you know,” Benny shrugged his arms. “How old are ya now or how young you were when you had the kid. I like you,” Benny said and you felt your heart filling with joy and affection.
“I suspected that a guy like you would chase after them pretty dolls,” you turned around to turn the oven off since the pasta was cooked now.
“Damn right I do. You’re a doll,” Benny assured you and you shook your head with a chuckle.
You focused on making the spaghetti when Jack came back to the kitchen with a drawing in his hand and he placed it on the table to show it to Benny.
“I drew a motorbike!” He told him proudly. “And that’s (Y/N) on it and you. I saw you one night through the window!” He exclaimed. “Sorry, in the dark I thought you had brown hair,” he explained.
“It’s great, dude. You like to draw?” Benny asked him.
“Yup! I draw everything I like! Cars, motorbikes, construction machines, trains, dinosaurs and dogs! (Y/N) sometimes takes me to the diner and I sit by the window and draw the cars in the parking lot!”
“That’s so cool,” Benny gave him a thumbs up.
“Yeah, I know!”
“Dinner’s ready,” you turned around with two plates in your hands as you approached them. “Take the drawing off the table, Jack,” you told him.
“It’s for Benny,” Jack insisted and looked at him. 
Benny smiled awkwardly and took the drawing, not knowing what to do with it.
“You can fold it, it’s fine,” Jack assured him and Benny nodded before folding the drawing and putting it into his pocket.
“Now, go wash your hands,” you told Jack and he sighed before running off to the bathroom.
You placed the plates on the table and then you turned around to get the third one and put it there as well. Then you sat down and kept staring at Benny who was silent as usual.
“He’s not my kid,” you explained silently. “My sister’s,” you added. “I have raised him since he was four. It was difficult and I had to drop out of college but I didn’t want him to end up in the orphanage,” you added.
“Why couldn’t your folks raise him?” Benny asked.
“They cursed my sister out for… For being with Jack’s dad. It’s a long story. So, they didn’t want anything with Jack either, they said he’s got that bad blood in him, that he’s a rotten apple because he’s from a bad tree. And his father’s family… I don’t even know if they are alive. He was a very bad man, Benny. He was rotten indeed, evil to the core. I’m glad he died, let me tell you, because he’d be an awful influence on Jack and you see what a sweet boy Jack is. But what I’m mad about is that he took my sister down with him. Down to the grave,” you sighed and shook your head.
“I’m sorry,” Benny mumbled. “Drugs?”
“Yeah, heavy stuff,” you nodded and played with your food nervously. “Now my parents say I’m stupid for wasting my life, my education and all that. But how could I let Jack go to the orphanage, huh? You seen him. He's a sweetheart. Such a gentle soul and I wish they could see that but they keep saying he’s gonna grow up to be a deadbeat like his daddy. That’s why we moved. I wanted to be away from my family and start fresh,” you explained.
Before Benny could answer, Jack was back already. He sat by the table and started to eat.
“Yummy!” He told you with a smile.
“Thank you, love,” you caressed his hair gently.
“Yeah, it’s very good,” Benny nodded after taking the first bite.
“How long have you been driving motorcycles?” Jack asked him.
“Since high school,” Benny answered.
“I want to drive them, too!”
“Ha-ha-ha, absolutely no way,” you gave Jack a scolding look.
“Why not? Your boyfriend can drive them and I can’t?” Jack whined and you felt your cheeks heating up.
“Um… Benny is not my –”
“I’ll teach you how to drive ‘em when you’re old enough,” Benny interrupted you.
“Benny!” You gasped and Jack giggled. “I said: no.”
“He doesn’t have to drive fast. He can be a good boy about it,” Benny winked at you and you sighed.
“I’ll be careful, I promise,” Jack laid his head on your arm and you caressed his cheek.
“I hope so. I hope you’ll always stay this sweet. Even as a teenager,” you booped him on the nose and he smiled widely at you before going back to eating.
The rest of the meal went more peacefully. Benny was mostly asking Jack about school and his friends. When everyone ate, you took the dishes to wash them and promised to prepare a dessert while Benny took Jack outside to show him his Harley motorbike.
You observed them through the window with a smile. They looked quite adorable together and you couldn’t stop the way butterflies were forming in your stomach at the sight of them together. You had not expected a guy like Benny to just… Accept your situation so casually. He had been surprised at first but that was it.
You took the ice cream out of the freezer and divided it into three portions before going out to stand on the porch.
“Boys!” You called them and they both turned around at the same time. “Dessert’s ready!” You announced and watched how both of their faces lighted up as their eyes filled with the sparkles of excitement. You chuckled to yourself. They were adorable.
Benny and Jack rushed inside and you reminded Jack to wash his hands again. He rolled his eyes but went to the bathroom obediently.
“And me? I don’t have to?” Benny teased you.
“You can catch whatever disease you want, I don’t care. You’re a big boy, Benny. It’s your choice if you wash your dirty hands or not,” you looked at his hands. They were black from the grease after showing Jack something with the engine.
Benny blushed a little and went to the bathroom as well.
When they were back, they grabbed their bowls with ice cream and you proposed to eat it on the couch while watching TV. Jack insisted on sitting between you and Benny and Benny insisted on watching some comedy show that you usually didn’t allow Jack to watch because of its primitive humour. This time you made an exception and you could see how Jack was starting to like Benny more and more.
They were laughing at the same jokes – although you were sure Jack didn’t understand some of them and only laughed because Benny did. But what mattered more was the way they laughed. Both in a similar way, cutely, throwing their heads back and giggling. You had never seen Benny Cross like that before and your heart was filling with more and more affection towards him. He started to remind you of a little boy now.
Well, he had been a little boy once after all. And, oh, he had to be adorable, you thought, and you reached your hand out to caress his arm softly. He looked at you and you shyly took your hand away. However, he smiled at you lovingly and your cheeks heated up.
When the comedy show was over, you asked Jack to wash the dishes after the dessert and he did that without complaining – mostly because he was grateful to you for letting him watch that silly comedy show.
“You turning him into a girl?” Benny pointed his finger at the kitchen where Jack had gone to as he moved closer to you on the couch.
“No, I’m teaching him how to do basic chores around the house,” you told Benny. “You don’t wash the dishes?”
“Only when I have to,” Benny groaned. “But I hate that.”
“Well, at my house you’d have to,” you crossed your arms.
“I’m gonna get used to it,” he chuckled and you raised an eyebrow at him. He was grinning at you.
“Listen, Benny,” you changed the subject as you got more serious. “Thank you,” you lowered your voice. “I know I should have told you earlier about Jack…”
“What you thankin’ me for, kitty?” Benny furrowed his brow.
“For… Acting decent, I suppose,” you bit on your lower lip.
“Well, I don’t mind you raising a kid, dollie. In fact, I think it’s cool,” he winked at you.
“Cool?” You snorted at that, confused.
“Yeah, you know, he’s a nice fella and we’re gonna practise before our own little ones come one day,” Benny shrugged his arms and stretched his arm to put it around your shoulder.
“Benny, we barely know each other,” you pointed out.
If any other guy started talking about having kids with you so fast – you’d run away. But with Benny it was different. Something about him was making you feel secure. Perhaps because of the way he was with Jack.
“That’s why I said: one day,” Benny smirked.
“What I mean is, it’s too early to plan such things”, you said but you leaned your head on his chest anyway. He shook his head with a chuckle.
“Little girl, I’m gonna marry you, don’t you know?”
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MASTERLIST || BENNY MASTERLIST
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javierpena-inatacvest · 19 days ago
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Chapter 1- Jello at Your Front Door
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Summary: 15 years ago, a football and a boy four doors down makes your move to Florida a little more bearable. Now, you're not quite sure how to feel when you find out he's shown up back at home unannounced
Word Count: 5.5K
Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (no use of y/n, Frankie has a nickname for reader)
Warnings: Angst, yearning, mentions of death, sick parent, meeting Frankie for the first time, cute, awkward baby Frankie, a football throw Santi will never forgive you for
A/N: ... Hey.... How y'all doin'.... Remember when I said I was gonna start a different Frankie series months ago? I hope you humbly accept this as my official formal apology for not being able to get my shit together, as I present this offering to you instead 🙂 I started writing this 24 hours ago and I legitimately couldn't stop, so here we are??? I know this is a different style that what I normally write, but here's to trying new things (and hopefully finishing them). I hope you guys enjoy 🥺💛
All The Things We Never Said Masterlist
Next Chapter
You, Present
“Frankie’s home.” 
You weren’t really sure how to comprehend how the combination of those two words would be one of the worst sucker punches you’d taken to your gut in the better part of the last decade. 
As the sentence replayed over and over in your head, you could think of any other combination of two words that would have scared you less. 
“Hurricane’s coming.” 
“Bomb’s dropping.” 
“World‘s ending.” 
In a universe where things make sense, the response these would elicit from the average person would be reasonable, rational even. When you’ve been given a warning about the way two words have the potential to alter your reality, you can’t help but panic. 
But today, you’ve woken up in a universe where things don’t make sense. 
And what’s worse is, you didn’t even get a warning. 
The statement shouldn’t have shaken you as much as it did. When you’d seen his truck parked in the driveway four houses down, you knew it had to be him. Anyone else in the world would be caught dead driving the barley mobile piece of metal he’d been traveling in for the better part of 20 years. But Frankie Morales was not anyone else. He’d drive that damn car until the wheels fell out underneath him. 
It wouldn’t be the first time you’d gotten in a stubborn stare down with his 1989 maroon Chevrolet Silverado. You had a sneaking suspicion that today wouldn’t be your last. 
“Why is Fr- Why is he back?” 
You hadn’t intended for your tone to be so bitter, but the taste of Frankie’s name on the tip of your tongue left a taste in your mouth so sour, you wanted to recoil into yourself. 
“Why do you think?” It was clear your mother had no interest in playing into your game of cruel intentions, barely paying you any mind as she glanced out the window, unphased by the looming presence in the Morales’s driveway, “You should go say hello.” 
“No thanks, I’m not a fan of purposely ruining the rest of my day.” You don’t mean for your eyes to roll as far back into your head as they do, but you can’t help it. At this point it seems like an innate, programmed response. Simply the thought of Frankie Morales was enough to dampen your mood; an intentional confrontation was the last thing you needed. 
“You’re going to have to see him at some point, you know. Can’t hide from him the whole time he’s here.” 
Your mom hadn’t even given you the chance to rebuttal, disappearing from your bedroom to leave you to stew in your own resentment, because she knew as well as you that it was pointless to fight back. 
At some point, you’d have to face Frankie. Today, you’d stick to hiding. 
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You, Summer of 1999, Age 11
26 total hours trapped in a U-Haul with your family and every item you’d ever owned was not the way you had planned to spend your last week of summer before starting middle school. You’d hoped that the nearly 3 day journey from Michigan to Florida would be long enough to help you cope with your distress. Unfortunately, you weren’t shocked that cramped quarters and unclear driving directions in the midst of uprooting your life wasn't doing much to lighten your mood. 
Your parents had promised you the move would be worth it. That starting a new life halfway across the country would be good for your family. You weren’t quite sure what positives Florida posed to you, but even at the ripe age of 11, it didn’t take a genius to realize that “starting over somewhere new” was code for “trying to keep your dad alive.” 
The doctors back home were thrilled to tell you about the new, potentially life saving treatment for his rapidly progressing colon cancer. You were thrilled too, until that new, life saving treatment meant moving 1,300 miles from home. 
Not once did you protest- keeping your dad a living, breathing part of your life was better than having to say goodbye to your best friends, but it still didn’t mean every mile you drove further and further south down I-75 was another grain of salt in your freshly open wound. 
Your parents had tried to incentivise you with all the joys that Florida would have to bring- warm, sunny weather, beaches, being a 3 hour drive away from Disney world, a bigger house, the list went on and on. And while you knew one day you’d find joy in the rewards you’d reap from your sacrifice, you had a feeling that day wouldn’t be coming any time soon. 
It took too many movers to count to finally get your new house to resemble what was supposed to be a home. There was something so unsettling about seeing your furniture reassembled into unfamiliar corners of a place you’d never been. Even the things that were supposed to feel familiar and comforting now felt distant and foreign, scrambled in the walls of your new residence like a child who had shaken up a box of their favorite toys and dumped them out on the ground, leaving behind a mess for someone else to clean up. 
The only solace you could seem to find in the wave of chaos that had washed over your life was the view outside your bedroom window. A quiet escape, perfectly positioned to watch the warm rays of sunset fade behind the rooftops, the night slowly shifting into shades of black and blue as your eyelids became heavy.
Each night as you drifted to sleep, you dreamt about the ways you could be saved from the lonely island you were trapped on. A sole survivor begging to be found. You tossed and turned in the sea of your twisted bedsheets, crying out that there would be someone, anyone who would risk their life to rescue yours. 
On the first two nights, the only response to your pleas was a deafening silence, an insult to injury that you were destined to spend the rest of your life on a godforsaken landmass no one would ever find. On the third night, your cries carried on the winds of the warm summer air, sneaking through the cracks of an open window four doors down. 
“You should go out there and play with those boys down the road! They look like they’re probably about your age!” 
You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed the two gangly figures racing up and down the street for the better part of the last hour, hoping they wouldn’t catch your passing glances through your living room window as you pretended to watch whatever episode of “Rocket Power” aired next on Nickelodeon. Perhaps the pair boys hadn’t noticed you watching them, but your dad had surely noticed the way you could have cared less about whatever was on the TV in front of you. 
“They’re playing football, I don’t really think they’d probably want me to play.” You huff under  your breath. 
“You’re good at football. Probably better than they are.” Your dad laughs like it’s meant to be funny, but you know he’s serious. He’ll never admit to you out loud he wished his only child would have been a boy, but you’ve never minded playing the role of the son he never had. 
And he’s not wrong. You definitely are a better throw than either of them. 
“They’re gonna think it’s weird that a girl’s asking to go play football with them.” The sigh that follows this is even more annoyed than the last, now too self aware at 11 years old to revert back to the days of approaching kids you’ve never met on the playground and asking to join in without needing to worry about the social repercussions of your actions. 
“Well, you can either pout and pretend to watch TV, or you could go try to make some friends. That’s up to you, Bud.” He smirks at the scrunch in your brow and flair in your nostrils, the same face he knows he makes when he’s been hit by the cold, hard truth he doesn’t like. 
You know he’s right. 
“Fine,” You grumble, reluctantly pushing yourself off the edge of the couch, “But if they’re dumb, I’m coming back home.” 
“Atta girl. Go easy on ‘em, Killer.” 
As you step outside, it feels like you’ve become some sort of jungle explorer, trying to approach a herd of wild animals in their element without startling them to the point of attack. You’d even brought a peace offering to ease the introductions, hoping that your own football would be an appreciated contribution to their game. 
As you make your way down the street, you’re not sure if you’re particularly good at sneaking up on the boys, they haven’t noticed your presence, or worse, they’re actively trying to ignore you in hopes that you’ll go away. 
“H-Hi.” You stammer, half attempting to wave at the back of their heads, nowhere near close to catching their attention. 
“Hello?” This time it’s a little louder, slowly taking a few steps closer, “Hi?” 
God, maybe it’s a fourth option you hadn’t considered and they’re both deaf. 
“Hey!” 
This one finally catches their attention, causing both boys to turn around cautiously, not sure whether they’re more shocked that someone’s interrupted whatever play they’re about to run, or that the person who’s interrupted them is you. 
All of three of you stand in silence for a moment, mind racing in curiosity as you take in the image of clumsy limbs and messy mats of hair stuck to sweaty foreheads. The one boy is shorter, thick, jet black curls sprouting from the top of his head and arms crossed over his chest with a scowl on his face that’s not quite mean, but most definitely not welcoming. 
The other, taller and lankier, a mop of dark brown hairs twisting at the nape of his neck, eyes soft as he glances back and forth between you and his friend. His demeanor is much different, almost nervous compared to the boy standing next to him, fits balled in the pockets of his shorts while the adam’s apple he still needs to grow into bobs in his throat. 
For as much as no one wants to draw in the silent standoff you’ve entered, you started this mess, so you might as well be the first one to fold. 
“H-hi. Sorry, I um, I didn’t wanna interrupt-” 
“I mean, you did.” The shorter boy mumbles, wincing as the nervous one slaps him in the chest with the back of his hand. “Jesus, what was that for, asswad?!” 
“Let her talk!” He grunts, sneering at his friend before turning back to you, his face much kinder now than the expression he just gave to his friend. “Sorry. You can um, you can keep talking if you want. Sorry about him.” 
You try not to laugh at the exchange, but it’s hard not to smirk at the way the two have managed to put themselves on display in the thirty seconds you’ve spent talking to them. 
“It’s okay. I um- I just moved in down the street. That green house over there.” All of your eyes shift as you point behind you, signaling where your journey had begun a few moments ago, “I was uh- I was wondering if you guys wanted another person to play with? I- I brought my own football.” 
“Normally you only need one football to play football, duh. Do you even know how football works?” 
In an instant, your heart sinks to your gut, eyes dropping to the ground to watch your feet start to drag across the pavement, back to where you came. But before you can lift the sole of your sneaker from the cement, a voice stops you. 
“She obviously does or she wouldn’t ask, numbnuts! C’mon, Santi, don’t be a dick.” 
Although it’s not directed at you, it’s enough to bring your attention back to the kinder boy, no name yet, but quite positive it’s not also Santi (or asswad). The two of you lock eyes for a moment, a strange sort of calm running through you as his slight half smile reveals his brace covered teeth, looking at you in a way that makes you feel just a little less small. 
“Yeah, you can play with us. I’m Frankie, by the way.” 
Frankie. 
There’s something about his name that fits him so perfectly. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but you know from the way it rolls off your tongue that it just feels right. 
“Hi, Frankie. I’m Mackenzie.” 
Frankie’s hands are now out of his pockets, a line of defense dismantled after hearing your name. 
“Hello? Have we forgotten about me? There are three of us here, remember?” 
“This is Santi. Well, Santiago, but we all call him Santi.” The way Frankie rolls his eyes at his friend tells you everything you need to know about their friendship, giggling at the way he dramatically pouts as he introduces him. 
“Mackenzie? Isn’t that, like, a last name?” Santi asks, still not yet warmed up to the idea of you, but intrigued enough to ease how tightly his arms are crossed. 
“And? Isn’t Santiago the capital of Chile?” You sass, your mater-of-factness and quick wit making Frankie unintentionally snort. 
“Alright, touché, Christopher Columbus.” Santi mocks, acting tough to try and hide the pink blooming in his cheeks. 
“I like Mackenzie. I think it’s cool.” 
There’s something about the way he says it that you know he means it, wondering why the way hearing your name fall from his lips churns your stomach in a sensation you’d never felt before this moment. 
“Yeah, well, just so you know, Frankie is short for Francisco.” Santi interrupts, trying to find a way to get a jab back at either you or Frankie, at this point he doesn't really care which. 
“Well, last time I checked, there wasn’t a Francisco, Chile.” 
That one sends Frankie into full blown hysterics, boyish snickers taunting his friend, whose attempt to save his namesake has left him the butt of the joke. 
“Will the two of you clowns just shut up and throw the ball? If you’re gonna let her play, Frank, can we at least make sure she can throw?” Santi whines, using every ounce of prepubescent strength he has left to play into his unbothered facade. 
“You can use your ball if you want.” Frankie suggests, shrugging at his indifference to the ball held in your hand compared to the one held in yours. 
“No! If she’s playin’, she’s usin’ our ball!” Santi’s voice trails further away with each step back he takes, settling himself in the middle of the street a few feet down from where you and Frankie stood, not willing to take any more risks when it comes to you, even if it’s something as stupid as a football. 
“Fine by me.” You shrug, happily obliging to his request, Frankie giving you a silent nod of reassurance as he passes his football off to you. 
It’s only now you notice he’s nervous again, one hand back in his pocket as he wriggles his toes in the ends of his worn sneakers while you size up your toss, knowing he’s worried that Santi will never let him live it down if the ball can’t make it more than three feet in front of you. 
Neither of you would know it then, but the silent exchange you make with Frankie as you line up your throw would be the first of many unspoken promises you’d keep to him. What seemed like a simple task,  to prove worthy of his friendship by throwing a football, would turn out to be the most important promise you'll ever make to Fransisco Morales. 
You weren’t ever going to let him down. 
“You can go further back.” You shout, almost offended by the distance Santi had chosen to stand away from you. 
“If you can make it this far, I’ll be impressed.” 
“You promise you’ll go get it after I throw it past you?” 
“I promise, Joe Montana, throw the damn ball.” 
You shrug at Frankie, like he’s supposed to know what comes next. He’s too scared to question either of you, all he can do is let his eyes dart back and forth between you and Santi, knowing there’s no world where both of you can prove your point. What scares him more is that he trusts you more than his friend. 
You line your fingers up on the laces, gripping the leather like your life depends on it. In a way, it does. With a step forward, your arm hurls the ball, two of the three of you standing dumbfounded in the street as you watch it soar further and further past its intended target, spirling through the sky until it bounces off the cement with an acrobatic roll, three times the distances of where Santi had placed himself. 
You don’t say anything. You don’t need to. You just smile and shrug- it's the best “I told you so” you could give them. 
“Fine. She can stay.” 
To this day, it’s the closest you’ll ever get to a compliment from Santi. 
“Nice work, Kenz.” 
Your stomach flips. You try to blame it on the adrenaline of it all, that there was no way a compliment so simple had you wiping your sweaty palms over the denim of your shorts, trying your best to erase any evidence that he was the reason your heart was racing out of your chest. 
Now it’s 15 years later, and as much as you hate him, you still can’t get that goofy, brace faced smile out of your mind. 
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Frankie, Present 
There’s a reason he shows up at 1 A.M. Everyone’s asleep. If the world is asleep around him, he’s safe from having to deal with anyone, at least until morning. There’s a part of him that wishes he would have parked his truck down the street, tricking you into thinking that he wasn’t even there. 
It’s hard to justify when you’re the reason he’s back home in the first place. 
When he got the call from his mom, he knew he had to come. He didn't want to, but he knew he’d hate himself forever if he didn’t. 
“Hey, Mamá.” 
“Francisco, how quickly can you make it home?”  
“Mom, I told you, I’m not-” 
“It’s Doug. He’s in hospice.” 
“Fuck. How um- how much longer do they think he has?” 
“When I talked to Michelle, she said they were hoping for a few more weeks. But I’m not sure. He doesn’t look good, mi amor. If you want to say your goodbyes, now’s the time.” 
“O-okay. I can probably be home by tomorrow. Gonna be late though. Is uh- is she, um-” 
“She’s here. For about a week or so already. She keeps looking over at your empty spot in the driveway just like she did all those years you were away. Waiting for you, Francisco.” 
It’s the lump in his throat and ache in his chest that gets him home an hour and fifteen minutes faster than what his GPS said it would. He’s not sure what delusional part of his mind thinks that maybe you’ll be waiting for him when he pulls into the driveway. Maybe it’s the same delusional part of his mind that pictured you sitting there, cross legged on the concrete, staring up at the sky to count stars like sheep, waiting for him to come home all those years ago. 
He’s also not sure why it hurts so bad when he shows up and you’re not there. 
Frankie feels like he’s 16 again, sneaking into his own house in the wee hours of the night, digging the spare key out from under the doormat, attentive to the practiced pattern of how to avoid squeaks in the hinges as he turns the lock behind him, careful not to wake a single sleeping soul. He tiptoes over the 4th stair to the second floor and barely taps the 7th before he finds shelter in his room, successful from his journey. 
Every time he comes home, he can’t help but laugh at the fact his mother refuses to change anything about his bedroom. Everything is in the same place it was the day he left for the Air Force, down to the pile of unfinished homework from his Senior year of high school stacked on his desk. Each time he sees it, he’s never sure if the source of his laughter is nostalgia or irony. Maybe it’s a little bit of both. 
When he looks at the picture frames scattered across his nightstand, a 17 year old Frankie stares back at him, tall and gangly, arms too big for his own body, an awful haircut he begged his mom to let him get. It was the year he discovered how much he couldn’t live without a hat, simply out of necessity for the 6 months it took for his hair to grow back out. You were the first one to tell him how cute he looked in the one hat he already owned. He bought three more in the weeks to come. 
He wonders what the 17 year old in those pictures staring back at him would think of him now. If there’s one thing he knows for certain, it’s that high school him would have beat the shit out of him for the way things turned out, scrawny limbs and all. 
It seems like the military has taught him how to sleep anywhere besides his own home, keeping company with the shadows dancing on his ceiling in the moonlight, tossing and turning in the tattered sheets of the twin sized bed his mom promised she’d upgrade when he got big enough. To this day, he and his mom both know he was never begging her for a new bed because he had outgrown it, he just always wanted to make room for one more person. 
He clocks 3 and a half hours of sleep as good enough, creeping out of his house the same way he had come in, making the 5.4 mile trip to Benson Park to watch the sun rise. Frankie’s always hated running, it’s just as much of a surprise to him as it is to everyone else that he keeps doing it. It makes his knees hurt like shit and his lungs feel like they’re being strangled by rubber bands, a cruel cycle of self punishment he can’t seem to shake his addiction for. 
He’s sat on the same side of the bench underneath the ancient Blooming Dogwood since the first time he came here. He tried one time to sit on the other side. He’s superstitious enough to believe his one time fuck up has had a lasting effect. The bench is so hidden at the back of the park, he likes to think that the two of you are the only ones to have ever found it. No one else has ever burst through the bubble of secrets shared between the two of you there, leaving the wood grain to be stained with memories and moments that have shaped the both of you, good and bad. 
It’s the first place you ever told him about your dad. It’s the first place he ever told you about his. His dad was already nothing but memories by then. It makes him sick to his stomach that soon, that’s all you’ll have left, too. 
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Frankie, Fall of 1999, Age 11
“How much longer do we have, Frankie? I feel like my legs are gonna fall off!” 
“Quit being such a baby, you’re fine!” 
“Next time we have to ride our bikes this far, I’m pulling an E.T. and riding in the front basket of your bike.” 
“Perfect, you look just like him.” 
“Frankie!” 
“Kidding, kidding!” 
Frankie’s never had a friend like you before. Sure, he’s got Santi, but it’s not quite the same. 
Santi took some easing into- five years ago, when Frankie moved onto Everett Street, he became a friend by force, not choice. Santi staked his claim on him, seeing Frankie as a gift sent straight from heaven, finally having another boy his age to play with after too many years of being sentenced to dress up and tea parties from his 3 older sisters. 
Santi was everything Frankie wasn’t- loud, assertive, the kind of friend who grabs you by the hand and drags you along with them whether you liked it or not. There’s times now, after a half a decade of friendship, that Frankie still questions the way Santi’s brain is wired, but Frankie’s too good of a friend to ever make a fuss about it. 
You, on the other hand, needed no easing into. From the moment he met you, watching you toss that football so far past Santi that he was convinced it would disappear on the other end of the street, Frankie had been mesmerized by you. 
There’s something about you that makes him feel a weird thump in his chest every time you’re together. Everything about you gives him comfort in a way he can’t describe, a safety he’s felt with very few other people in his life until now. 
There’s just something about you. He still hasn’t been able to quite pinpoint what it is. 
Whatever it may be, it’s enough to invite you on a bike ride to the back of Benson Park instead of Santi. 
“Do you even know where we are? I don’t think there’s any more park left past this point, Frankie.” You huff, slowing the wheels of your bike behind him as you come to the edge of a steep rolling hill, nothing left in front of you but acres of empty land and tall grass. 
“Yeah, I do. Maybe we just passed the trail on the way in. We’ll just- We can just find it on the way back.” 
He knows you know he’s fibbing, but he wants your trust that he won’t lead you astray more than he wants to tell the truth. 
“Okay. There’s a bench underneath that tree. Can we just sit for a little bit before my legs turn to jello?” 
You’re already halfway off your bike before he can respond. Even if he had said no, there’s no way he’d leave without you. 
“Fine. What flavor jello?” 
“Whatever flavor is your least favorite so you don’t eat my legs, Francisco. That’s just weird.” 
The two of you laugh, tossing your bikes to the ground as you bottoms find the wood of the bench you’d pointed out, you on the right side, Frankie on the left. 
“My mom only ever gets the red kind. I don’t even really like it that much. Don’t worry, you’re safe, Kenz.” 
“I don’t really like it either. But we have every flavor at my house ‘cause that’s like, all my dad eats.” 
Frankie starts to laugh like you’re playing a joke on him, trying to pretend your dad’s diet exists exclusively of artificially flavored gelatin, but your sudden silence and the way your voice drops to the ground right with your eyes tells him he’d better stop snickering. 
“Your dad only eats jello?” 
“Well not only, but a lot of it, I guess.” 
His face scrunches with a mixture of confusion and concern at your sadness. He’s never heard you this quiet before. 
“Um, w-why?” 
The silence is almost deafening. He’s not sure why he should be so concerned with asking about jello, but he’s too curious to let it go. He selfishly wants to know what about it makes you so upset, because he just as selfishly hopes there’s something he can do to make you feel better. 
“My dad has cancer. He’s really sick. He can’t really eat a lot, but jello’s the one thing he can keep down most of the time without, like, throwing up or whatever.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, like you’re worried someone else will hear and spill the rest of your secrets right along with this one. You say it like he’s the only one in the world you want to hear it. 
“I’m- I’m sorry. That sucks.” 
Frankie blames it on his instincts, the way his hand finds yours, outstretched on the bench. He touches you like he’s handling a baby bird who’s fallen out of its nest, delicate and careful, calculated, hoping you won’t try to fly away in fear. Instead, your hand welcomes his, scooting closer to the weight of his palm resting on top of it. He feels you give in as you let him carry you back to safety of the tree you’ve descended from. 
“It’s okay. That’s why we moved here. The doctors in Michigan said that there were even better doctors here who could maybe help make his cancer go away.” 
“And then maybe he won’t have to eat as much jello.” He takes a gamble with the joke, but it pays off with your surprised snort, “Sorry, that was stupid. I shouldn’t be joking about it.” 
“I mean, it was, but it was funny. It’s okay, my dad jokes about it, too. He always says, one day, it’ll be funny, so might as well make that day today.” 
His heart warms as he watches a small smile return to your face. It heats the pink in his cheeks when he realizes he was the one who helped bring it back. 
“Your dad sounds nice.” 
“He is. Even though he doesn’t feel good a lot of the time, he still always tries to come to my soccer games and stuff. I know he can’t be like what he was before he was sick, but he tries to be. What about your dad?” 
Frankie prays you don’t notice the way his heart sinks like he noticed yours. He chews on the inside of his lip so hard, he thinks it may bleed. He wants to lie, but he knows that you’ll know. You always know. 
“Um, I don’t- I don’t really see my dad.” 
It’s you now who's grabbing his hand, offering him the same type of safety net he’d made for you. He’s barely known you two months. He’s known Santi for five years and all he knows is that his dad doesn’t live with him. Frankie didn’t want to tell him, he’s not sure he’d understand. There’s a strange sensation that swirls in his gut, because he wants to tell you. You’d laid the first brick in the foundation of trust between the two of you. The least he can do is help you keep building. 
“Oh. Why don’t you see him?” He sees you’re prying, but not in a way that hopes to expose him. He knows you’re prying because you want him to let you in, to get a peek at what's behind the curtain. It’s a locked door most people in his life will ever get access to, but he’ll let you have a spare set of keys. 
“I never really knew him. My mom said he left when I was a baby. She says she’s always been happy it’s just me and her. That it was easier to live with one less person than to live with someone who was mean.” 
“Your mom sounds like a wise lady.” 
He appreciates the fact humor was your first response, too, it makes the sting of ripping the stitches off a still-healing wound hurt just a little less. 
“Yeah, I guess so. Still kinda wish I had a dad, though, ya know?” 
“You can borrow my dad whenever you want. As long as you don’t mind super embarrassing, stupid jokes.” 
“Are they as bad as mine?” 
“No. They’re worse.” 
Neither of you would have minded staying just a little bit longer, but the bright reds and yellows of the setting October sky remind you both that the parents you’ve opened up about are expecting you back before night washes over the quaint suburbia of your town. The bike ride home is much quieter than the one there, but the simple silence seems to speak louder than anything he’d have to say. 
The next day, Frankie would raid the cabinets of his kitchen for every last packet of jello he could find and bring them all to your front door.
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lewisvinga · 7 months ago
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born to die | fernando alonso x fem! reader
summary: after their engagement, y/n realized her and fernando may have different views of the future. it makes her wonder if they were really born to die.
warnings; age gap, cursing, angst/fluff
word count; 1.28k
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03
note; and this is it u guyssss🥹 i enjoyed this series sm and i’m so thankful 4 everyone who read n enjoyed it<33 im gonna miss it sm but keep a look out for my next music f1 series 😁
‘born to die’ series masterlist !
masterlist !
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“But are you really ready to settle down?” Y/b/f asked Y/n during their biweekly brunch dates. The topic of marriage came about after due to Y/n started wedding planning a few months after being engaged.
Her best friend knew her more than anyone. They grew up together. So Y/b/f knows that Y/n never wanted to settle down so quickly. She knew that she wanted to spend her 20s having fun and completing her master's.
Marrying someone who is already in their 40s and wants to settle down as soon as possible meant there was a conflict between their futures.
“I mean, not yet.” Y/n sighed, grasping into the cup of tea as she shrugged. “I love Fernando, I do. I don’t want kids yet. I want to wait a few years and-“
“But does he know that? That’s a man who wants to settle down already and have a house in the countryside. That’s a man who wants children soon.” Y/b/f interrupted her, genuine concern written all over her face. “He’s a great guy and I love that he makes you happy but is that what you really want? Having kids means giving up a lot and you know that I know that.” She added about her own child. “And He just signed another contract with Aston Martin. If you do have kids, he won’t be around to help you much.”
Y/n let out a groan, running her hands over her face. “I was lost before I met him. I was so confused as a little child but he gave me a sense of meaning. I love Nando, I truly do. But It’s just,” She sighed. She looks out the window of the restaurant and watches busy people walking down the sidewalks. “Now that I think about it, we view the next 5 years completely differently.”
Y/b/f reaches out and grabs her hand, forcing Y/n to look back at her. “Just think about it, okay? I love you and I just want the absolute best for you.”
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Y/n sat on the top step of the front patio of her shared home with Fernando, staring out onto the gloomy skies. Despite it being sunny when she was at brunch, by the time she got home it was drizzling. However, the rain usually calmed her and in a moment where she was deep in her thoughts, she definitely needed to be calmed.
She was so lost in her thoughts of her future that she didn’t notice her fiancé’s Aston Martin pulling up to the driveway. The Spaniard was confused as to why his fiancée was sitting on the patio with a sad look on her face.
“What’s wrong, mi amor?” He asked. He sat down next to her and caressed her arm. Hearing the concern laced in his voice was the triggering act for her.
“Do you think this is the right time for us to get married?” Y/n asked, keeping her eyes on her fiddling fingers. She hears Fernando’s breath hitch as he sits up straight.
“Why do you think that?”
“Fernando, you’re older than me, like a lot older and-“
“You just noticed?” He asked in a teasing tone in hopes to lighten the mood a bit.
She just sighed in response and crossed her arms over her chest. “Fernando, we both have different views of the next 5 to 10 years and you know that. I’m still young. I want to go out and party and enjoy my life. I just started my master's degree. But I know you want to retire in a few years. I know you want to have kids as soon as possible and settle down. But I-“
Y/n takes a deep breath as she glances up at her fiancé. “I don’t want that. Not yet at least. Not until I finish my master's. I don’t want to settle down just yet. Y/b/f had to stop so many things when she had her son. It makes me wonder if we’re really meant to be. Maybe you and I, we were born to die.”
Fernando’s minute of silence made her heart drop. He looked like he was lost in his thoughts, similar to how she was moments prior. “What are you even talking about, Y/n? We were born to die? Come on, mi amor!” He exclaimed, standing up to his feet. Her eyebrows furrowed up as she copied him by also getting on her feet, ignoring how the rain began to come down harder.
“Maybe it’s true, Fernando!”
“It’s bullshit.” He let out a laugh as he ran his hand over his beard. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s bullshit. Yes, we’re different ages. The road gets tough, it happens and I don’t know why, but we carry on. That doesn’t mean we’re born to die. Come on!” He continued, his eyebrows furrowed up.
“Are you even listening-“
“I am and what you’re saying is bullshit like I said!” Fernando responds, taking a step closer to her. “Amor, yes, I want children. Yes, I dream of us one day living on the coasts of Spain with our kids but that doesn’t mean I want it right away. I want you to achieve your degree. I want you to enjoy yourself first because it’s not up to me when we have kids. It’s all you.”
“Yeah, but-“
“What do I have to do to prove this to you?”
Y/n raised her eyebrows in confusion as she tilted her head. “What do you mean ‘prove’ it to me?” She asked, confused by his words.
He takes a step back with a shrug. “Prove that I don’t care if you want to wait to have kids. Prove that I wanna marry you because I love you, not to settle down.”
“Well, you don’t need to prove-“ She pauses in her words when she sees him take a step down. She lets out a sigh, her hands falling to rest by her side. She knew immediately by the glint in his eyes what he wanted to do. “Fernando, no. You’re going to get sick.”
He takes another step down.
“Fernando, stop that!”
He takes one step back and is immediately met with the pouring rain. In seconds, his clothes and hair were drenched but he didn’t care. Not one bit.
“Fernando, come back! The longer you stay there the more likely you’ll be sick.” She scolded him but he simply smiled in reply.
“I’m not leaving unless you join me.”
Y/n crosses her arms, glaring at Fernando who keeps smiling. She let out a sigh of defeat as she took a couple steps down the stairs and made it out into the rain. He immediately pulls her close by her waist. She lets out a yelp and balances herself by holding onto his shoulders.
“I love you and I want to marry you, mi amor. I don’t mind waiting 5, 10, even 15 years for us to have kids and ‘settle’ down.” He loudly says over the sound of the rain hitting the pavement. “I just want you.”
She laughs in disbelief, resting her forehead against his chest. “We can figure it all out later, right?”
“It’s just you and me right now, mi amor,” Fernando says. He cups Y/n’s face with one hand, forcing her to look up. He took a second to admire her features and her messed-up makeup from the rain. He leans down, kissing her hard in the pouring rain. Her previous thoughts immediately washed away the moment she felt his lips on her. Maybe they weren’t born to die.
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grapejollyrancher · 1 month ago
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Noise Complaints (pt. 2)
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Pairing: Wolverine/Logan Howlett x AFAB! reader
Word count: 4k (was originally 8k but i felt i went overboard so i shortened it LOL)
Summary: Steamy shower sex w logie
Warnings: Smut, MINORS DNI, shower sex, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up), size kink, reader is shorter than logan, reader has hair, hair pulling, biting, scratching, oral sex (m receiving), fingering
a/n: hi!! this is a continuation of my last fic, you dont need to read it but i feel like this one would make much more sense if u read the other one first. as i said last time i am new to writing fanfic, especially smut, so respectful, constructive criticism is always appreciated! if i left out any warnings or made any errors pls lmk! thank u!! hope u enjoy :) read pt. 1 here
He continues up the stairs with you in his arms, holding you against his firm chest and keeping you from escaping. Giving into his much stronger grip, you wrap a hand around one of his biceps and squeeze the flexed muscle.
“Hmm… I like these. So strong, Lo.” You smirk up at him. You look up at him from where he holds you against his chest with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. He chuckles as he feels your hand around his bicep, and carries you down the hallway towards the bathroom, his strides longer and stronger as he holds you with ease.
“Yeah, Darlin'? You like my arms? Strong enough to lift you up like you weigh nothin', huh?” He looks down at you as you look up at him, seeing the way you were biting your bottom lip and humming at the sight.
“Love how strong you are, Lo. You should pick me up more often…” You trail off and wink at him. He smirks and shakes his head in mock disbelief at you
“Oh, should I? Just so you have an excuse to feel me up, yeah? That why you love it so much?” He teases with a raised eyebrow as he steps through the doorway into his en-suite bathroom. You bat your eyelashes and squeeze his arms again, giggling. He smiles at your laugh, the feeling of you squeezing his arms again makes him hum lowly in response.
“Yeah, princess, I think that’s why you love it so much. But don’t you worry, you can feel me up whenever you want.” He says lowly, leaning forward to kiss your forehead.
You flush at his words and feel him place you against the counter in the bathroom and he turns to turn the shower on. Letting the water run to let it heat up, he turns again and faces you. He leans over you, his arms on either side of you as he starts nibbling and sucking on your neck again. He stays like that for a few minutes, listening to your soft hums as he continues to nip and lick at your skin, wanting to leave you marked up and bruised as a sign to the world that you were his.
You push against him, whining playfully. “Logan… How am I ever gonna cover these? Everyone’s gonna know what they’re from.” He chuckles against your skin and hums in response, continuing to suck on the skin gently, leaving a hickey.
“Hmmm, I know. Tha’s the point, Darlin’. Want everyone to know you’re mine.” He pulls away, pausing to admire his handiwork on your neck. You groan and throw your head back, giving in to the feeling of his plush lips against your skin.
“M’ yours, Lo” You whimper.
A low, possessive growl rumbles from his chest.
“You’re mine, Darlin’. ‘M gonna make sure every person in this whole fuckin’ town knows it.” You moan lightly and push him away to hop off the counter. You take the hem of your shirt in your hands to pull it over your head. You then reach behind your back to unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the ground. You unbutton your pants and pull them down over your thighs along with your scanty underwear.
“I’m gonna hop in the shower, babe,” you say turning to face the glass doors of the shower. You turn back to look at him over your shoulder to give him a seductive smile, “You coming?”
He was completely distracted by you undressing in front of him, his eyes roaming and taking in your body as each piece of clothing came off. He was silent, completely and utterly entranced by the sight of you naked in front of him. Your smile over your shoulder at him snapped me out of it, my eyes meeting yours and seeing the heat and desire behind them*
“Mmm, yeah Darlin’, I’m coming. I’m not done with you yet. Not by a long shot.”
You giggle and turn back away from him, stepping onto the cool tile of the shower floor and ducking your head under the water. You glance over at Logan and see him peeling his shirt up and over his head, his dogtags jingling around his neck from the movement. He unbuttons his jeans and slides them off along with his boxers before stepping into the shower with you under the warm water.
Your eyes trail over his body, entranced by the sculpted muscles. You run your hands over his pecs and abs, your sight following the lines of his abdomen, down the ‘v’ of his hips and the patch of hair trailing lower and lower as your gaze rests on the site of his cock standing at attention. You bite your lip and clench your thighs together.
“Shit Logan…” you trail off at the sight of his length, much bigger than you had imagined.
He lets out a low rumble as your hands roamed over his chest and pecs, his abs flexing as your touch sent sparks of heat through him.
“Like what you see, hm?” He teases. You gaze up at him, breaking eye contact with his cock to glance between his eyes nervously.
“God Lo- I could feel you were big earlier but I didn’t think you were gonna be this big”
Pride flares in his chest at your words. He smirks down at you mischievously and grips your hips in his hands, pulling you against his body and holding you there tightly.
“How big did you expect me to be, Princess?” Your breath hitches at the feeling of his big hands gripping your hips tightly.
“Knew you were gonna be big but fuck—Don’t know if it’s gonna fit.” He lets out another hum of satisfaction at your reaction, slowly sliding his hands up your body and to your shoulders. He leans down low so his lips are next to your ear, his tone low and gruff.
“You want to find out?”
You moan at his words and pull him down for a chaste kiss.
“Yes,” You whimper against his lips, the feeling of his stubble scratching against your skin providing a delicious burn. “Wanna feel you Logan…”
He lowers his face to meet yours, lips colliding in a passionate but slow kiss. You can feel yourself growing more and more needy, the heat in your core growing the longer his body was pressed to yours. He deepens the kiss, his skillful tongue running over yours in almost a frenzy. He grips your hip tight with one hand while the other reaches behind you to grab at one of your asscheeks.
You whimper against his lips as you run your hands down the plane of his built chest and abdomen. You teasingly scratch your nails against the ridges of his abs as your trail your fingers lower, feeling his breath hitch slightly at the pleasure-pain of your nails scraping against his skin. You let out a groan once you reach his length, feeling it hot and heavy in your palm as you start a slow pace of stroking him.
“Tell me what you like Lo…. Wanna make you feel good”
At your words, he reaches one hand down to cover yours, gripping his cock tighter and setting a faster pace. He breaks away from the kiss for a moment, panting against your lips. His head drops against the cool tile of the shower wall, a moan rippling from his throat.
“Fu-uck baby” he encourages, “just like that Darlin’... don’t stop...”
You step closer to him to wrap your unoccupied arm around his neck to pull him down slightly. You plant gentle teasing kisses to the column of his throat, licking and sucking to elicit more of his sounds. His length pulses in your hand as you pump him, slowly increasing the pace as he pants against your shoulder. His hips buck into your closed fist as you swipe your thumb over his tip to collect the precome that gathers there, paying a bit more attention to his swollen head on a particular flick of your wrist. You smirk against his neck, loving how you were making him unravel from just your hand.
“Feel good baby?” He just groans, his head becoming fuzzy from the pleasure. Running your thumb across the ridge of his tip, continuing to pump him at the pace he set, you can’t help but bite your lip and cross your legs a little tighter, trying to gain some friction to alleviate the slick pooling between your thighs. You unravel your other arm from around his neck and reach down to cup him, moaning lightly at the small involuntary thrusts of his hips at your actions.
“Shit- Darlin’— you keep doing that and I ain’t gonna last long.” He groans lowly, his head falling back against the shower wall again. He’s doing all he can to hold on, not wanting to bust again before even making it inside you. You grin against the skin of his neck knowing you’re making him fall apart in your hands. You duck your head and continue your trail of kisses over his chest and down his abdomen, licking and nipping as you go until you’re kneeling in front of him, still keeping a steady rhythm with your hand.
“Wanna taste you, Lo”
“Christ, Princess- look at you, so fuckin’ pretty f’me.” His eyes are dark and heavy-lidded as he stares down at you kneeling in front of him, nearly unraveling at the sight of you looking up at him through your lashes. “Yeah baby, you can taste- go on,”
You dart your tongue out to lick teasingly at his tip, moaning at the salty taste hitting your tongue. You look up at him as you place wet, open mouthed kisses from his base to his tip, running your hands over his thighs and hips at the same time. He lets out a hiss at the contact of your wet, hot tongue running against his throbbing cock, fighting the urge to grab your head and slam you down until your nose hits his base.  He’s completely powerless against you, his hands gripping your shoulders to keep himself upright, his knees almost buckling at your skillful mouth.
“Fuck baby, so fuckin’ good,” He pants, “Knew you’d be good with that pretty mouth of yours”
You continue leaving kisses and kitten licks all around his length, watching him grow more and more desperate above you. You take him into your mouth and swirl your tongue around him before closing your lips and sucking. You take him as deep into your mouth as you can, gagging slightly at the feeling of his cock bulging against the back of your throat.
The sounds leaving him become more desperate and guttural than before, gasping and gripping your hair in a makeshift ponytail as you continue working him with your mouth. He looks down at you on your knees in front of him, bucking into your mouth further at the sight of your looking up at him. You reach a hand out to cup him again, massaging his sack while you pump him at a fast pace and your mouth works skillfully around his length.
His head falls back again as he lets out a groan, feeling himself grow closer and closer. Needing to be inside you before he comes down your throat, he grips your hair tight in his fist, pulling you off of him and guiding you up to your full height. You give him a confused look before he grabs the back of your head and smashes his lips to yours. His movements are messy, heated and animalistic as he nips at your lips and his teeth clash against yours messily. He slides his hands down your back, grabbing the plush of your ass in his hands and squeezing before breaking away slightly to pant against your lips.
“As much as I love that fucking mouth baby,” He pants, his chest heaving, “Need to fuck you—need’a feel you squeezin’ me” You moan at his filthy words, clenching around nothing in an attempt to sooth the ache in your core.
“Logan… need you s-so bad. Please….” One of your hands resting against his chest reaches up slightly to grab his dogtags and pull him against you again, lips meeting in a frenzied kiss. One of his hands trails from your ass along your waist, teasing his fingertips against your lower stomach and down to the crease of your thigh. His fingers ghost lower, the pad of his thumb pressing lightly against your swollen clit. You gasp at the contact, finally relieving some of the ache between your legs. He teases two of his fingers lower, swiping through your folds, feeling the slick that gathered at your entrance. He groans at the feeling of your wetness against his fingers, loving how needy you were for him. He had barely touched you yet and you were already soaked.
“All this for me, sweetheart?” He smirks against your lips, feeling your back arch at his touch he dips his fingers into your entrance while his thumb lazily strokes your clit.
“Please, Logan,”
You groan and throw your head back as his fingers slowly tease you with his light touches. He ducks his head to kiss up and down your neck while his other hand massages your breast. His chest rumbles with a low hum, his tongue tracing along your neck, wanting to leave marks and wanting to show the world that you were his.
“So fuckin’ wet for me baby, shit— feel so good already”
You whimper at the praise, loving the filthy words coming from his mouth. His fingers dipping deeper into you makes your breath hitch. He pumps his fingers at a lazy pace, making you whine and whimper against him desperately. He tweaks one of your nipples between his fingers, and quickly ducks his head to flick his tongue against the sensitive buds. Whines and whimpers continue to leave you as he pumps his fingers faster inside you, feeling yourself grow more desperate for your release.
“More… need more, please Lo—"
“What do you want, sweetheart? Tell me. Gotta use your words f’me baby”
“Want your fingers …faster please” You barely recognize the words coming from your mouth as he turns you into a babbling mess from his touch. The feeling of his fingers dipping into you and curling against that spot deep inside makes you buck your hips and moan.
He continues to leave kisses and marks on your neck, while his fingers start moving faster, wanting you to feel as good as possible. His thumb returns to your clit, circling it with just the right amount of pressure to have you arching and whining against his chest.
“I got you, Darlin’. Jus’ keep making those sounds for me, tell me how good it feels.” His voice is low and gravelly as he talks you through his actions. His voice, his arms, his fingers, his everything feels suffocating as he brings you closer to the edge. You clench around his fingers at a particular thrust, hitting the spot that has your head spinning and your eyes shutting tightly from the pleasure. He chuckles, low and teasing in your ear, knowing he has you right where he wants you.
“There she is. Right there, huh baby?”
“Yes-s Logan! God, so fucking good,” you’re nearly screaming at this point, the heat in your core growing stronger and tighter as he continues rubbing against your clit and pumping his fingers deep in your soaking cunt.
“Say my fuckin’ name, Darlin’, “ He growls into your ear, licking the shell and biting your earlobe. “Want everyone to know who makes you feel this good”
"Shit—Logan!” you throw your head back and moan loudly at his hot breath against your neck. He moves his free hand up to hold you against him tighter as he thrusts his fingers faster and harder, needing you to come undone for him.
“Doin’ so good. You’re almost there, baby. Make a mess f’me.”
You claw at his shoulders, the pleasure overwhelming as your release grows closer and closer. His praise sends bolts of pleasure straight to your throbbing cunt. You can feel him pumping his fingers into you at a steady pace, his thumb still on your clit, sending your body into overdrive as your orgasm creeps closer. Your climax washes over you in waves, and you have to lean against his chest to keep you upright. Clenching tightly around his fingers, your thighs shake with the force of your release
“Fuck Logan- so fucking good… holy shit” You pant against his chest and he rubs soothing circles on your back, grounding you.
He buries his face into the crook of your neck and shoulder, needing to be against any part of you that he can. Coming down from your high, you grasp his wrist in your hand and pull it from between your legs, guiding his hand to your mouth. You dart your tongue out to taste yourself on his fingers, giggling at his shocked expression. His eyes are wide and his mouth hangs open as he watches you, mesmerized.
You pop his fingers from your mouth and sigh, “Want you to fuck me Lo… “
He wraps his arms around the back of your thighs, bending slightly to reach you. His biceps flex against you as he hoists you up so your legs wrap around his waist. You yelp slightly, not expecting to be lifted off the ground. He turns to press your back against the wall, his hips meeting yours with the way he holds you against him.
“You want me to take you like this?” Your head thumps lightly against the wall as you throw it back in a moan at his words. You can feel the tip of his cock teasing your entrance as he rocks against you.
“God—yes, give it to me… cant wait … need you like this right now, Lo,”
“So needy for me,” he groans against your neck, pulling himself up to slot his lips against yours in a heated kiss. “Fuckin’ take it then baby.”
You nearly scream as you feel him sheath himself inside your slick heat in one quick thrust. Your eyes well with tears as he stretches you, clawing at his shoulders while he stills inside of you, letting you adjust to his thickness
“Fuck! S-so big-“ you moan.
“Fuuuck, Sweetheart, feel so good around me. So fuckin’ tight f’me” he groans against your lips, nipping at the bottom one before kissing you again. You clench tightly around him, thighs shaking lightly from the overwhelming feeling of him inside. The burn from the stretch slowly dissipates and you feel yourself needing more.
“Y-you can move lo,” you mewl, relishing in the feeling of him sliding out until just the fat tip of his cock was kissing your entrance, your head tilts back and you moan wantonly. He pulls almost all the way out, and teases you with his tip, and just as you were about to whine, he slams back inside with a forceful thrust, nearly knocking the breath from your chest.
He drills into you at a brutal pace, his huge hands splayed against your thighs and ass, tugging you closer with every thrust. Your arms wrap around his neck, nails digging into his shoulders as he growls against your neck at the twinge of pain. One of your hands threads through his hair and you pull at it, forcing his head back so that you can lick and nip at the sensitive skin of his neck. Another animalistic moan leaves his throat as you pull his locks, only driving him to thrust into you harder.
“Logan! Oh fuck—" You feel the head of his cock brush your cervix with each thrust, driving you insane. You cry out when he trails a hand between your bodies to thumb at your sensitive nub
“Feels good doesn’t it? Tell me how good I make you feel baby, say my fuckin name.” he growls, his breathing comes out as ragged gasps as he thrusts into your tight, wet, heat. The steam from the hot water only adding to the intensity of your rendezvous.
“Shit—oh fuck, Logan! G-God, so good!” you’re crying into the crook of his neck, tears pool in your waterline at the immense amount of pleasure, his thrusts not letting up. He adjusts his grip on your thighs, pulling you up a little bit higher on his waist. You clench around him as he hits your sweet spot over and over with this new angle.
“There! Shit—gonn-ah! Gonna cum—!” He feels you grind down onto his length, meeting his thrusts. Your cunt gripping him with force as he pounds into you, bringing you closer to the edge of your release.
“You gonna come for me? You close, Darlin’?” he rasps, his hips beginning to falter as he nears his own climax.
You nod your head, not able to speak with the band of pleasure in your core winding tighter and tighter with each forceful buck of his hips into you.
“C’mon Princess, come for me. Come on my cock baby” he grunts as his thrusts become sloppy and ragged. “Fuck—I’m close Darlin’”
“Come with me Lo. Want you to come inside..” you breathe into his ear, nibbling his earlobe and licking a stripe down the expanse of his neck before sinking your teeth into the muscle of his shoulder.
“Want me to come in you, Darlin’? You wan’ me to fill you up?” His filthy words almost send you over the edge. You shiver against him and clench hard around his length, bucking your hips to meet his thrusts.
“Shit!” you pant, “Fuck yes Logan… fill me up- Fuck! Make me yours—"
Your third orgasm crashes over you, no less intense than the previous two. It lights you up from the inside out. Your vision goes hazy as you clench around his thick cock. You moan against him as you feel his length twitch inside you and thick ropes of his release paint your insides. Your legs tremble with the force of your release, and you scream his name, not caring who might hear. He continues to thrust into you slowly, riding out your orgasms together.
He groans deeply, taking him a moment to collect himself before he pulls you away from the wall. Your body is spent and your legs feel like mush, so he holds you upright as your knees buckle under your weight.
You drop your head against his shoulder as he continues holding you up, feeling his length softening inside you as you both try to catch your breath.
“Holy…. shit… “You breathe, still panting against his chest.
A chuckle rumbles in his chest as you rest your head against his pecs, gently running his fingers through your damp hair and tilting your head to look up at him. He kisses you with a newfound tenderness, he’s gentle and kind, leaving you breathless when he pulls away.
“Mmm, yeah…. We might get some noise complaints….”
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miley1442111 · 8 months ago
Note
Please do one where Aaron and reader are like training and the tension breaks and they kiss and there's an age difference and... yeah.
thank youuuuuu
omg thank u for requesting,i love this idea :))))))))
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breaking rules mr. hotchner?- a.hotchner
a/n: i didn't imagine a fem! or male! reader so imagine what you want :)
summary: what happens when both aaron and you have to train together?
pairings: aaronhotchner x reader, platonicbauteam x reader
warnings: kissing, tension, workplace relationship, age gap, i think that's all :)
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“Team training sessions, all weekend! If you can’t make it, you’ll need to make it up,” Strauss’s email made your face fall. You would be away all weekend with your sister's wedding. 
“Anyone else not making the team training?” you asked, hoping you wouldn’t be stuck with someone from another department. The entire bullpen seemed to be able to make the training and a groan made its way out of your mouth. 
“Maybe Hotch will be missing it, I think he has Jack this weekend,” Rossi smirked, a knowing look on his face. A look you badly wanted to remove, forcefully. You shot him a fake smile that made him laugh as you walked up the stairs to Hotch’s office. Everyone in the office seemed to have picked up on the weird energy between you two. His gaze always defaulted to yours, in the field he was extra protective of you, and any and all fleeting and seemingly innocent touches made your skin feel like it was on fire.  
You knocked politely on the open door and he hummed in response. You walked in and his eyes were immediately glued to you as you stood in front of him. He was obviously an authoritative figure, he was your boss after all, but conversations with him always had an underlying ease and equality to them. 
“Is everything alright?” He asked after a short moment. 
“Yes, I just wanted to let you know that I can’t make the training weekend, I’m at my sister’s wedding,” you explained quickly. “Sorry for the inconvenience. I’m sure there’s others that’ll have to make it up too-”
“I will too,” he stood from his desk, files in his hands. “How about we get ahead of it and do a few hours in the gym? You don’t have anywhere to be tonight, do you?” He asked so casually that the heat creeping up your spine seemed ridiculous. 
“That sounds fine,” You confirmed.
“Good. See you tonight then.” 
You took one step outside his office and you were met with stares from all of your co-workers. “He’s missing it too.”
“Looks like dad is getting some action tonight-” Derrick started but you hit him on the back of the head, silencing his words as the rest of the team laughed. All you could do was wait for tonight. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You were on time to the office gym. It was already set up for the weekend training sessions and a wide array of mats were on the floor. You noticed Aaron sitting on a bench across the hall, a navy shirt that hugged his biceps perfectly and gym shorts that ended at his knee. 
“Hi,” You smiled from across the hall, your own gym clothes adorning your body. 
“Hi,” he smiled back. 
“I asked Spencer about what they were covering and he said just general hand-to-hand combat and practising taking a subject down so… what do you want to start with?” You asked, beginning to stretch your muscles softly. You felt his eyes lingering on you as you stretched and a shiver ran down your spine.  
“Whatever you think,” he stated, the remnants of a smirk on his lips. He must know what kind of effect he has on you, right?
“Well, maybe just some hand-to-hand, I don’t really want to pop my shoulder out of place again,” you joked, a memory from the last training day you had attended. Derrick had gotten a bit too strong and dislocated your shoulder, meaning Spencer was forced to pop it back into place with Jj and Aaron’s help. 
“Makes sense,” he smiled, a certain mysterious dampening in his usual bright smile. “You come at me, go for my waist,” he ordered.
“Your waist?” You questioned, preparing your stance regardless. 
“My gun,” he explained, preparing himself for contact. 
“Oh,” Was what you got out before you lunged forward to his waist, after a long back and forth, punches and dodges and the small smirks or grunts he continued making made you practically dizzy, until you pinned him under you, a smirk on your lips. His hands rested on your waist, both of your breaths heavily with the strenuous activity, and the tension in the air. He reached up and brushed some hair out of your face, and that was all it took. 
He grabbed your face, pulled you down and kissed you. His other hand held your waist in an almost bruising grip. You had gasped when your lips first made contact and he used that as an excuse to push his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. Your hands found grip on the sides of his face, some moving back to pull on his soft hair. He had sat up, the hand that had been on your cheek moved to hold the both of you up but he never broke the kiss. His hand on your waist squeezed harder as his tongue explored your mouth, an evident smirk on his preoccupied lips. You pulled away, desperate for breath. As you caught your breath, Aaron’s hand dropped from your body and rested on the mat. 
“I’m sorry. That wasn’t right, we shouldn’t have done that. I’m very sorry if you felt pressured into-“ he started apologising but you cut him off with another passionate kiss. Your hands wrapped around his neck and his hands wrapped around your torso as you deepened the kiss. He groaned into your mouth as you bit his lower lip softly, not enough to draw blood, but enough to warrant a reaction. He pulled away, an uncertain mystery playing behind his beautiful eyes. 
“You’re surprising,” he had a soft smile on his lips while his hands ran up and down your sides. 
“How so?” You smiled, your hands messing with his black hair. 
“Well, you just kissed your boss-“ he joked, and you cut him off with a push to the chest. He laughed as he fell back, hitting the soft mat. 
“Shut up,” you groaned. “You kissed me first!” 
“That I did,” he admitted, “which we should probably talk about.”
You nodded in agreement and allowed him to go first. 
“I have a romantic interest in you, and it’s fine if it’s not reciprocated. You are… much younger than me and I’d understand if you didn’t want to be with someone who has a child and isn't exactly in the prime of his life-“
Another kiss cut off his sentence, you held him closer than before, as if trying to prove you wanted this. His hands roamed your body again and you pulled away, a certain lightness in your voice. 
“I don’t just go around kissing all of my co-workers, Aaron,” you smiled. “I want this. I want you.” He barely stifled a grin at that comment. 
“Alright then. Can I take you out to dinner sometime?” He smiled, an unknown hopefulness in his eyes. 
“Yes, yes you can.” You smiled and he kissed you again, just as much passion and tension as the first. 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Monday you came in, Penelope was waiting at your desk with a smile.
“Morning,” you smiled. “How was your weekend?”
“It was amazing,” she over exaggerated her words. Strange. “But not as good as yours.”
“Oh, you saw my post? Yeah the wedding was beautiful-“ 
“I saw that, but I also saw the gym cctv footage from Friday night,” she exclaimed, piquing the interest of Jj, Emily, Derrick, and Spencer. 
“What happened in the gym on Friday night?” Derrick smirked and you sent Penelope a look, one to tell her to not speak. 
“Let’s just say we might be calling y/n mom from now on,” she confirmed what all of them thought and you sighed as the onslaught began.
“You get to third base?” “In the office?!” And many other jokes and serious comments were thrown your way until you heard Spencer. 
“Derrick, you owe me 10 bucks!” He exclaimed, reminding Derrick of their bet. Derrick rolled his eyes and took out his wallet. 
“You two had a bet?!” You asked in absolute shock. 
“Yeah, it was whether or not-“ Spencer started to explain until felt a presence behind him. 
“You all call me dad?” Aaron smirked as the team's faces dropped. You smiled at him. 
“We- it’s just a-“ Spencer tried to explain but Aaron silenced him with a hand on his shoulder. 
“We have a new case, briefing starts in 5 minutes,” he shared as the team started grabbing their things for the briefing. “Oh and agent y/n, I need you in my office.”
Everyone stilled, staring at the two of you. 
“Paperwork,” he smirked, knowing the team knew about you two. 
You rolled your eyes and followed him all the same, walking into his office with a smile. He cupped your cheek and kissed you softly, despite kissing being big no in the workplace. 
You pulled away, “breaking rules Mr. Hotchner?” You smirked. 
“They’re watching,” he shrugged. “They want a show.”
You rolled your eyes and pressed a short kiss to his lips, then proceeded with the actual paperwork.
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gilbertscurls · 23 days ago
Note
hey could u do a story on how chris would skip classes to make out with girls for the whole period? thank uuu
hope you like it!! <3
Live a Little ➵ Chris Sturniolo
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part 2!
The last bell of the day rang, and students poured out of classrooms, eager to escape into the late afternoon sunshine. Senior year felt different—there was a sense of finality to everything. Everyone was making plans, talking about college applications, and preparing for the next chapter of their lives. For you, though, high school had become a blur of routines and responsibilities, an endless stream of homework and stress about the future.
But for Chris Sturniolo, things seemed... easier. While you were juggling AP classes, extracurriculars, and planning for college, Chris was barely showing up to half of his classes. The rumor mill was always buzzing about what he was up to, and more often than not, the stories involved him skipping class to hang out with girls, spending entire periods in secluded spots around the school making out. He had a reputation, but somehow, he never seemed to care.
You had known Chris for a while, not well, but enough to know he wasn’t all that concerned about his grades or what people thought of him. He was always laid-back, joking around, and never seemed to take anything too seriously. It was both infuriating and fascinating at the same time.
Today, you found yourself lingering by the lockers, shoving your books into your backpack, when a voice broke through your thoughts.
“Hey.”
You looked up to find Chris standing a few feet away, leaning casually against a locker, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. His dark hair was slightly tousled, his eyes glinting with that familiar spark of trouble. It wasn’t unusual to see him around, but the way he was looking at you now—directly, with a hint of something more—made your heart skip a beat.
“Hey,” you replied, trying to sound casual, though your pulse quickened.
“Heading to your next class?” he asked, though you knew it was just for show. You could tell by the glint in his eye that he had something else in mind.
You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah… unlike some people, I actually go to my classes.”
Chris chuckled, pushing himself off the locker and stepping closer, his presence commanding and easy. “Come on,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “you don’t really need to go to every single class, do you? It’s senior year. Live a little.”
You rolled your eyes, but a small part of you was intrigued. “Are you seriously trying to convince me to skip?”
“I’m not just convincing you to skip,” Chris said, taking another step closer until he was right in front of you, his gaze locking onto yours, “I’m convincing you to spend that time with me.”
You felt your breath catch in your throat. There it was—the infamous Chris Sturniolo charm that so many girls seemed to fall for. But you were different. You weren’t like them, right? You had a plan, goals. You weren’t about to throw that away for a guy.
Still… something about the way Chris was looking at you made it hard to say no.
“And what exactly would we do?” you asked, crossing your arms, trying to maintain some semblance of control in this situation.
Chris grinned, his eyes flicking down to your lips for just a second before meeting your gaze again. “I’ve got a few ideas,” he said, his voice low and suggestive.
You felt a rush of warmth flood your cheeks, and you couldn’t help the way your body reacted to the closeness between you. Against your better judgment, the thought of skipping class—just this once—didn’t seem so bad. After all, it was senior year. What was the harm in having a little fun?
Before you could overthink it, Chris reached out and gently tugged on the strap of your backpack. “Come on,” he urged, his voice soft and coaxing, “let’s go.”
You hesitated for only a moment longer before nodding, allowing him to lead you down the nearly empty hallway. Your heart pounded in your chest as you followed him, half-excited, half-nervous. This wasn’t like you. You didn’t skip class, didn’t just ditch your responsibilities for a guy—but this was Chris Sturniolo. And there was something exhilarating about stepping out of your comfort zone with him.
Chris led you to a part of the school you didn’t frequent—the old wing, where barely any students hung out. The classrooms were mostly used for storage now, and the halls were eerily quiet. He opened the door to one of the abandoned rooms, glancing back at you with a playful smirk as he held it open for you.
You stepped inside, feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation. The room was dimly lit, with dusty desks scattered around and old textbooks piled in the corners. Chris closed the door behind you, the sound of it clicking shut echoing in the empty room.
Before you could say anything, Chris was in front of you again, his hands gently gripping your waist, pulling you closer. His eyes bore into yours, the intensity making your pulse quicken. You could feel the heat radiating off him, his breath soft against your skin as he leaned in.
“You’ve thought about this before, haven’t you?” Chris whispered, his lips dangerously close to yours.
Your breath hitched. You wanted to deny it, wanted to say that you hadn’t given Chris Sturniolo a second thought, but that would be a lie. There was something about him—something about his carefree, rebellious nature that intrigued you, even if you didn’t want to admit it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered back, though the way your voice wavered betrayed you.
Chris chuckled softly, his hands sliding up your sides, sending a shiver down your spine. “Liar,” he teased, his voice low and sultry.
And then his lips were on yours.
The kiss was slow at first, testing, but it quickly deepened. His hands gripped your waist tighter as he pulled you closer, your bodies pressed together. You melted into him, your hands finding their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. It felt so wrong, but so good at the same time.
Chris backed you up against one of the desks, his lips never leaving yours as he lifted you onto the edge. You gasped softly at the sudden movement, but he silenced you with another kiss, his hands now roaming your body, sending sparks of electricity through you.
It wasn’t like the stories you’d heard about Chris—about how he’d make out with girls and then move on, never caring about what happened afterward. This felt different. There was a hunger behind his touch, yes, but there was also a tenderness. He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t treating you like just another girl. He was taking his time, savoring every second.
You broke away for a moment, your breathing heavy as you looked into his eyes. “Chris…” you started, but he cut you off with another kiss, his hands cupping your face.
“Just this once,” he whispered against your lips, his voice full of heat and desperation. “Let me have this moment with you.”
And against your better judgment, you did.
The minutes passed in a blur of kisses and soft touches, your heart racing with every moment. You couldn’t believe you were here, in this empty classroom, making out with Chris Sturniolo of all people. But it felt right, somehow. Like this was where you were meant to be, even if it didn’t make sense.
Eventually, you pulled away, both of you breathing heavily. Chris rested his forehead against yours, his hands still on your waist, holding you close. For a moment, everything was quiet, the only sound being the soft hum of your breathing.
“We’re gonna get caught,” you whispered, though the thought didn’t seem to bother you as much as it should have.
Chris smirked, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Probably,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “But it was worth it.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you love it,” Chris shot back, his smirk widening.
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. Maybe he was right. Maybe you did love it—loved the way he made you feel, like you could break the rules just for a little while and the world wouldn’t fall apart.
As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Chris pulled you in for one last kiss, slow and sweet. “We should probably get out of here,” he said, his voice softer now.
You nodded, slipping off the desk and smoothing out your clothes, trying to compose yourself before heading back into the hallway. Chris grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as you walked out together, not caring if anyone saw.
For the first time in a long time, you felt alive. And maybe, just maybe, skipping class for Chris Sturniolo wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
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tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 days ago
Text
Thank U
Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violenc, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Bruce Wayne/Batman (Christian Bale version)
Summary: you try to thank the vigilante who saved your life.
In the same universe as Home Sweet Home
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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‘To Batman’ 
No, that sounds ridiculous. All of this is just absurd. You don’t really think this will go anywhere but you just need to get the thoughts out. After a sleepless night, you need to put it somewhere before it boils over inside of you. 
You need to thank the man who saved you. If that’s what he is. He seems inhuman with all that he does for Gotham. 
‘My hero’ 
Ugh. New page. 
‘Hi. 
You don’t know me, but you saved my life. I know I’m not the only one and I hope I’m not the only one to say thanks. That’s what this is. I know it isn’t much but I’m not sure how else to do this. 
If you don’t remember me, that’s okay. I was walking home and there was a man following me. Then two. Then three. Then you were there. 
And just as quick, you were gone and so were they. I didn’t get the chance to thank you but I got home safe. Because of you. 
Batman. My hero. 
I owe you my life. 
Stay safe. 
Just another Gotham citizen.’ 
You reread the letter and cringe. What are you doing? You’re crazy. Is this pick-me energy? 
Ugh. You just can’t get over it. Your heart races every time the scene plays out in your head. Those men, their footfalls echoing yours, getting closer and closer, penning you in as they came at you from all sides. 
Your shoulders rose as you shrunk down and braced yourself for a heedless fight. Then the sudden flapping, the crash and crunch of violence, the shadows at battle against the brick wall as you stood by helplessly. Then the silence and his grizzled command. 
‘Go home.’ 
You ran all the way there. You didn’t look back or stop. And you didn’t sleep. You couldn’t. The dregs of adrenaline are still in you. 
Fatigue finally sets in as the sun rises. You fold up the letter and slide it into and envelope. You don’t expect this to go well. You don’t know what you’re doing. 
You’re in the same clothes as the night before. You feel like you’ve been frozen. That night fogs around you like a cloud. So close... it could’ve been so much worse. You could have been another news story. Another body in and alley. 
You walk down to the precinct. You stare at the doors for a while before you make yourself enter. The last time you went there, the only time, they wouldn’t even file a report about the man who sleeps outside your apartment door. He went away though... just a few days later. 
You go up to the counter. 
“Hi, erm, I need to get this to Commissioner Gordon.” You say. 
The uniformed officer doesn’t look up. He laughs.  
“It’s just a letter,” you plead. 
“Girl, you’re wasting everyone’s time right now,” the man doesn’t look away from the computer screen. 
“Please,” you hold the envelope through the little gap under the thick plastic window. 
“What’s this? A love letter?” He scoffs. 
“Joe, don’t be a dick,” another officer approaches and takes the letter. “I’ll give it to him.” 
“Oh, thank you so much,” you preen. 
“Don’t know if he’ll read it,” he mutters. 
“He just needs to look on the outside,” you point. 
He flips the envelope and reads your writing; ‘Batman, c/o Commissioner Gordon’. He tilts his head as he looks up at you. He shrugs. 
“Whatever, it’s a reason to stretch my legs,” he wiggles the letter between his fingers. “Have a good day, ma’am.” 
“Thanks, officer.” 
You turn and scurry out of the precinct. You don’t think the caped crusader will ever see that letter but at least you tried. It might not help you sleep at night, but it will be one less thing keeping you awake. 
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offbrandkyoya · 7 months ago
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[6]
m.list next
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Why is his crush coming to practice? Kageyama had not the slightest clue.
Kageyama is starting to freak out. He still feels embarrassed about what happened in the classroom. “Earth to Kageyama!” Hinata jumps up and down, waving his hand in front of his partner's face. “Stop thinking about milk-chan and focus on the game!”
Tsukishima overhears and scowls, “You know it’s weird calling them ‘milk-chan’ out loud, right?” Hinata shrugs. “So?” “What do you mean, so? It’s fucking weird.” “You’re weird!” “What?” Yamaguchi stands between them with a sigh. "Hinata, don’t provoke Tsukki.”
The ginger sticks out his tongue while Tsukishima rolls his eyes. Kageyama doesn’t react to the small argument that happened and simply walks the other way. “Okay boys, get in formation!” Coach Ukai shouts, and the boys go into position.
Kageyama is going to serve first instead of Asahi. ‘Maybe hitting this spike will let my feelings out.’ He lets out a breath before tossing the ball up, running a few steps forward, and hitting the ball right across the net. He gets the point, and he goes to hit again.
Another point, and Kageyama hits once more. Nishinoya digs for it, and Tanaka goes to pass to Sugawara to set. Daichi hits the ball, and Asahi goes to dig it up. This goes on for a while before taking a break.
Kageyama huffs, exhausted from playing. He hears someone shuffling next to him, but he’s too tired to tell them to shoot away.
“Milk-chans here!” Hinata whispers in his ear, and Kageyama immediately straightens up. His eyes dart across the gym until they land on his crush, talking to Yachi about who knows what.
They notice his stare, and they wave. Kageyama's cheeks flush and stand frozen. “Wave back, idiot.” Tsukishima mutters close to his ear. Kageyama does so, and his crush smiles more than ever.
They start to walk towards him, which starts freaking him out. “You’re really good.” They say, and Kageyama stutters, “U-Uh, T-Thanks, um...” He looks to the floor nervously. “I wanted to check on you.” His heart flips and flops. “I’m sorry for showing up out of the blue.” They explain, and Kageyama isn’t processing anything at all.
“Since you were struggling with English, I came to see if you had time to study. I was worried about you.” Hearing that, steam comes out of Kageyama's face. “I hope volleyball isn’t getting in the way.” They continue. Kageyama's words are incoherent, and the rest of the boys stare in disbelief.
“Kageyama is embarrassing himself.” Hinata says it with a pout. “They seem into it.” Tsukishima snickers, and Yamaguchi sighs in response. Daichi steps forward and pats Kageyama's back with a chuckle. “Do you need to borrow him for a minute?”
Their cheeks flush, and they shake their hands. “I was just asking if he wanted to study with me! I understand if he can’t because he needs to be here for volleyball.” “I see.” Daichi’s hands go on his hips. “Unfortunately, we need Kageyama since we have a practice match soon.” “I understand.”
They smile at Kageyama. “I’ll leave you alone now. Have fun; I’m rooting for you.” Those words replay in the boy's head, and his face gets even redder if that were possible. “R-Rooting for me?” “Mhm!” They confirm, and he almost passes out. Tanaka was thankfully there to stand him back up.
“Why don’t you study at his place?” Ennoshita suggests, after walking over, making sure Kageyama doesn’t fall again. The group stared at him in awe. “Yes!” Hinata jumps up and down. “You can study at Kageyama's house! He lives practically alone.” Kageyama comes back to his senses and kicks Hinata's side. “Shut up, dumbass!”
They smile wide. “That’s great! Is that okay, Kageyama? I’d love to be with you today.” The boys stared at them upon hearing those words. The guys looked at Kageyama's reaction, and sure enough, the poor boy was losing it.
Kageyama’s mouth is wide open, and his cheeks are glowing red. “Y-Yeah…that’s…okay…” They giggle, “Great! I’ll wait for you then.” They say farewell and leave the gymnasium.
“Kageyama has a date.” Sugarawa chuckles, and Kageyama falls to the floor, startling the boys and panicking if he just stopped breathing.
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im hungry
chat i wanna see sxf code white so bad or I’m JUMPING 😭😭😭😭😭😭
loid forger save me…save me loid forger…
@karma-gisa @cosmiicdust @abcdefghijklmzopqrstuvwxyz @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @xmagik @tnazips @zhochikennugget @makkir0ll
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yuff7e · 4 months ago
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haiiiii!! this is my first time requesting so sorry if it like shows up weird or anything but..
I was wondering if you could write tanjiro, zenitsu, inosuke and maybe genya (if you write for him ofc) reacting to a usually very aloof and stoic male reader genuinely smiling at them for once? like they told him that they loved him for the first time and instead of just ignoring them bro gave them the most gorgeous smile ever and was like “I love u 2 😊”
thank uuuu!!! sorry if it didn’t really make sense! p.s I adore ur writing MWWWAH!!!
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🤍﹒⪩ “𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎𝐎” ⪨﹒🤍
𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
hii anon !! this is actually the cutest request ever. i’ll definitely write it for you !! and tysm, i adore you !! i hope you enjoy this one-shot and tell me what you think !! :) ఌ︎
♬♪ -> lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıı
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✧.* 𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐎
“[name]… i—” tanjiro stuttered, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to find the right words. after nearly four months of wrestling with his feelings, he finally mustered the courage to speak the three words that had been weighing on his mind since the day you two started dating. “i love you.” his voice was filled with sincerity and vulnerability as he gazed into your eyes, desperately hoping for a positive response.
tanjiro didn’t expect much, especially not from you, given your typically stoic demeanor. as he nervously awaited your response, he observed the subtle shift in your expression from stoicism to raw emotion, causing his eyes to widen in astonishment. “i love you too, tanjiro!” you exclaimed, a radiant smile spread across your face as joy and affection filled your voice. his shock melted into a mix of relief and overwhelming happiness as his heart thumped with love.
“wha— [name]!” tanjiro exclaimed in disbelief, pulling you into a snug embrace, his arms wrapped securely around you. “i didn’t expect this, i love you so much, [name]. you’re the best boyfriend i could ever ask for.” overwhelmed with emotion, he held onto you tightly, cherishing the moment and the depth of his feelings for you. in response, you reciprocated the embrace, squeezing him back, a soft chuckle escaping your lips.
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✧.* 𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐀
“i really love you, asshole! so don’t die!” inosuke cried out, his voice filled with raw emotion as he cradled your seemingly injured body. you weren’t seriously hurt, but every time you got even slightly injured, he would freak out.
“inosuke, i’m fine—” you began to reply, but then stopped abruptly as his words sank in. you realized despite his rough exterior, inosuke truly cared for you in his own unique way. he might not fully grasp the concept of love, but his feelings for you were genuine.
looking up at him with wide eyes, you met the gaze of a his boar mask, feeling a surge of warmth and appreciation for the sudden declaration. without hesitation, you jumped up and wrapped your strong arms tightly around his neck, beaming with joy. “i love you too, inosuke!”
inosuke was immediately caught off guard by your enthusiastic reaction, especially considering the amount of energy you were wasting by squeezing him so tightly. despite his initial surprise, he couldn’t deny the overwhelming feeling of joy that washed over him as he felt you pressed against him.
“hey!! what the hell— you can smile?!” he screams, grabbing you by your shoulders and shaking you back and forth.
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✧.* 𝐙𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐀
zenitsu had always been attracted to girls from the very beginning, his desperation evident as he clung to them, pleading for them to be his bride. you observed his antics with a mix of amusement and bewilderment, yet your genuine care for the boy remained steadfast, leading you to risk your life for him on numerous occasions.
as zenitsu witnessed the depth of your unwavering concern and selflessness, a newfound realization began to blossom within him — a stirring of emotions for his dear friend, [name].
after a while, zenitsu finally mustered up the courage to express his feelings to you. once you reciprocated, it didn’t take him long to pour his heart out. “i love you so much, [name]-chan! i’ll do anything for you!” he declared, taking both of your hands in his own and kneeling toward your face, his eyes filled with sincerity and devotion.
witnessing his heartfelt confession filled you with a burst of energy, and you couldn’t help but beam with joy. “i love you too, zenitsu!” you replied, your words carrying the weight of your own affection and gratitude. upon hearing your words, zenitsu was overcome with emotion, tears streaming down his face and snot rolling messily as he wiped it with the sleeve of his bed-shirt. “i promise, i’ll be good to you forever, [name]-chan!” he exclaimed, his voice choked with tears as his eyes reflected his unwavering commitment to you.
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✧.* 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐘𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀
genya swallowed heavily, his heart pounding in his chest as he prepared to reveal his true feelings to you. you’ve been dating for eight months now, and he was terrified. with sweaty palms and a nervous expression, he faced you, the weight of his emotions hung in the air. this unfamiliar sensation was something he had never experienced before.
as you gazed back at him, your head slightly cocked to the side, your expression stoic and unreadable, revealing little of your own thoughts and feelings. “[name], i have something to say..” he declared, his voice tinged with nervousness, you watched him closely, noticing the flush that colored his face. your eyes locked onto his, silently urging him to continue.
“i.. i really.. love you, and.. i’ve truly appreciated these past few months we’ve spent together. you’re a really good guy, i really, really love you, [name].” genya confesses, his words filled with vulnerability. as he reveals his feelings, your expression swiftly transitions from stoic to joyful. without hesitation, you jump onto him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace. “i love you too, genya!” you exclaim, causing him to stumble back slightly, caught off guard by your reaction; but smiling to himself as he witnesses your joyful side.
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𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒 : 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍
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the-original-skipps · 1 year ago
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JELOOOO since u wanted more inspo can i suggest a scenario where the reader actually gets found out and was kidnapped what would he do? anyways I HOPE U HAVE A GREAT DAYY
|| WHEN YOU GET KIDNAPPED. || SPY!SCARAMOUCHE ||
wow I didn’t think anyone would read my posts but I’m glad you did. thanks for the marvelous idea I hope you enjoy another dose of spy scara
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You have no clue how you got yourself into this situation. One moment you were on your way back home from grocery shopping. The next you were covered in complete darkness.
Though it might just be the blindfold covering your eyes from seeing. With your sight gone you feel your other senses heighten. You can feel your heart beating erratically out of your chest, each breath you take known. The rope rubbing against your wrists leaves an uncomfortable burn. You repeat to yourself that you mustn't panic, by now someone must have noticed you were gone. The first person to come to mind was your boyfriend, Scaramouche. Tears prick your eyes at the thought of him and the possibility of never seeing him again.
Before you could further wallow in your sadness, you perk up at the sound of panicked shouts echoing throughout the room you were held in. You try to make yourself seem smaller hoping they wouldn't notice you. With every bang and shout you flinch in anticipation on when it would end. After a while the room goes deadly silent and you could only hear the sound of what you assume was heavy boots approaching you. You wait anxiously on what's to come next before you feel a hand gently cup your cheek. The sudden touch makes you flinch as your breath hitches, only next to be blinded by the sudden light. You grimace, slowly blinking bringing your sight to focus; you see a blur of black and indigo.
"Hey, are you hurt?"
Only when you hear a familiar voice your body perks up in remembrance, your eyes focus to see Scaramouche crouched down in front of you his brows furrowed with orbs speckled with worry. Your lips quiver as the tears you held back before come flowing naturally at the sight of your lover. He reaches around you to untie your hands, you wince at the burns they left. Once your hands were free you threw your arms around the man, burying your face against his chest. Holding him tightly as if he was just a mirage that might disappear if you let go. Words don't leave your lips, only cries and whimpers. You can feel Scaramouche sigh in relief as his once tense body relaxes at your familiar hold. His arms circling around you to return your embrace. "I...I'm glad you're okay." He whispers quietly as breathes in your known scent. You could only hold him tighter in response, a rush of emotions flooding you. You don't know how you got yourself in this situation but you were glad to know it ended with him.
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Too absorbed within your emotions you failed to notice the number of unconscious bodies that lay around you or the stain of red on your lover's hands. No matter, he'll explain himself to you later for now he is just glad to have you back within his arms again. 
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kitashousewife · 1 year ago
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sakusa doesn’t mind errands.
it makes him feel a little more accomplished, crossing things off of the to-do list. big or small, it gives him a chance to get out and enjoy himself, maybe even indulge on something new.
today is a day he would consider almost perfect. he’s grocery shopping through what feels like an empty store, listening to music while he weaves through the isles. this is his last stop of the morning, after the post office and the gym, and he’s ready to go home.
sakusa slows his cart to a stop when he reaches the last isle, eyes skimming the shelves for some fabric softener before he can head home.
a tap on his shoulder makes him just about shout in the store, the physical feeling of a record scratch makes his body jolt.
“e-excuse me?”
“yes?”
“h-hi,” you pull your hand away slowly, staring up at him with a rather nervous look on your face.
“hello.”
“sorry, i just,” you sigh, turning back to the shelves again. “what fabric softener do you recommend?”
at first, sakusa thinks you’re kidding. he tries to think if he’s ever been asked that in his life.
ever since his career took off, he’s had people stop him for numerous things. photos, autographs, cheap excuses at getting a few flirty comments in, you name it. this is a new one.
“u-uh, i guess it depends on what you’re looking for.”
you hum and nod, eyes still fixed on the bottles in front of you.
“something that smells good and leaves my clothes feeling soft i guess, but not something cheap and perfume-y, you know?”
sakusa absolutely does know, having gone through this same thing. he reaches forward, grabbing a familiar bottle and holding it out for you.
“this one’s good, not too expensive but still has a good smell.”
you turn to the stranger, only now realizing who you’re talking to. you’ve seen his photos, his instagram, and you’ve watched a handful of his games. your eyes widen for a second, but you give him a smile.
“thanks! ill try it out. i trust you,” you place the bottle in your basket and wrack your brain for something else to say.
“you’re welcome,” he mumbles, grabbing a bottle of his own. you’re about to walk away when he decides to speak up. “i hate having to find new products like this, so i’m happy to help.”
you smile wide, turning to face him again with a relieved expression. “right! it’s like as soon as you start to use something regularly, it completely stops working!”
he gives you a small smile and nods.
“i had the same thing with the bathroom cleaner i was using a couple weeks ago. i still haven’t found a replacement.”
sakusa is not one for small talk. he thinks it’s a waste of time, and something that typically makes him uncomfortable. but for some reason, here he is, blabbing about different cleaning products to some stranger.
a very pretty one at that.
“let me return the favor,” you spin around to the shelves behind the two of you, searching for something while a pop hit plays faintly in the background. you grab a spray bottle and hand it towards him. “this one’s great. one of the few things that hasn’t failed me in a while.”
sakusa smiles, and he can feel his cheeks turning pink. this feels so unfamiliar yet natural at the same time, and he’s having trouble keeping up.
“thank you,” he looks back at his cart for a second, suddenly feeling a little more shy than before. you sense this and give him a small wave.
“i hope you enjoy it! and thanks again for the help. i can now wash my clothes in peace.”
he nods and gives a small wave in response. you begin to walk away, and sakusa feels his heart beginning to race. he debates between following you and walking the other direction for a moment or two.
“w-wait,” he reaches towards you, but you’re just a bit too far. thankfully you stop, and sakusa feels relieved. “could i get your number?”
stunned with his new-found outgoing behaviors, he almost doesn’t hear you when you agree, only registering what’s going on when you hand him your phone. he takes it carefully, inputting his number quickly and handing it back to you with rosy cheeks.
he goes home that day with a giddy feeling in his tummy, hoping you text him back. when his phone buzzes later that evening with a photo of your folded laundry and a thank you, he feels a bit more confident and thankful for stepping out of his comfort zone.
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gepardling · 1 year ago
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I saw your blog and I love your writings sm🫶 Glad to see a fellow Gepard simp (JGKFKRJSHA HE'S SO HOT)
Going to my request, if you are fine with smut requests, is it okay for me to request husband!Gepard and spouse!gn!reader, featuring breeding kink and manhandling? It's up to you how you want to write how the story goes, surprise me 👀
Anyways, make sure to take care of yourself as well, stay hydrated, and thank you sm!!
happy anniversary w/ gepard.
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desc. : im so srry for my mini-hiatus, my schedule is spaghetti ;p my mind was lowkey still buzzing abt the museum event, n i needed a good hook for da story okay !! to me, marriage means becoming a family, so i used dat to set the scene :) am also working on improving gn!reader smut so i hope i did good here ( wc : 1.9k )
tags / cw : nsfw, gn!reader, pretty fluffy i think, oral, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it!), top!gepard, bottom!reader, aftercare, manhandling, breeding (I HOPE I DID THESE RIGHT, I'M SUCH A VANILLA PERSON), not proofread !
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Gepard couldn’t help but wonder if he was cut out for fatherhood, given his past encounters with children. It seemed that whenever he interacted with little ones, they either burst into tears at the sight of him or found themselves quickly bored by his serious demeanor. As such, he had never entertained the idea of having a family of his own – not until he met you, at least.
You had a habit of taking Gepard’s entire world and turning it upside down, making him question everything he thought he believed up until that point. This wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, and he quickly found himself drawn to your open-mindedness. Spontaneity was something that Gepard lacked in his life, and you delivered everything he needed and more. 
It wasn’t long before the two of you had married, and everyone knew it was a long time coming. No one could soften up the strict Captain like you could, especially when you manage to catch him off guard. Just the other day, Gepard's heartstrings were thoroughly scrambled when he saw you guiding a group of children through the museum. The way you handled the kids was beyond Gepard, and you taught history in a way that they understood, even enjoyed. 
After another one of your museum shifts, you and Gepard were relaxing at home. It was the evening of your first anniversary, having been married for a year. Gepard was immersed in a book, your head rested on his shoulder as you arranged your thoughts. Which is what brought you to this point. Here, in your shared home, you decided to finally raise the question. 
“You know,” you began softly, your voice carrying a mixture of wonder and uncertainty. “I can’t help but imagine… What if we had children?” Gepard’s demeanor instantly shifted, a fleeting tension washing over his body. Sensing his unease, you hurriedly backtracked. “I’m sorry, you don’t want to… And that’s okay!”
But before the words could fully escape your mouth, Gepard’s reassuring touch met your hand, his eyes filled with warmth. “No, not at all,” he assured. “You simply caught me off guard…” There was an excited tone to his voice, but some uncertainty still lingered deep beneath the surface. 
A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you absorbed Gepard’s response. “I think it would be amazing,” you uttered, a dreamy lilt decorating your tone. Gepard’s fingers gently traced the wedding band adorning your finger, and he was instantly reminded of your wedding, how radiant you looked as you stood before him. The image of you, eyes filled with unwavering devotion, etched itself permanently in his heart.
Your gentle laughter caressed his ears as your hand cupped his cheek, pulling him back from his daydream. “Don’t worry, we can wait until you’re ready,” you replied, softly pecking him on the lips. “There’s no rush, after all.” But between your gentle touch and his devotion towards you, all this family talk was getting Gepard a little hot beneath the collar.
He was sure you were aware of it too – your touches growing tantalizingly slow as your lips lingered longer and longer on his. With that same old mischievous glint in your eyes, you took the book from Gepard’s hands and set it on the table across from you. You snaked your arms around his neck, gently shifting yourself into his lap.
"What are we still sitting out here for?" You whispered, forehead pressed against his own. "It's our anniversary after all." Gepard's hands slowly came to rest on your hips, a rosy hue spread across his cheeks. You brought your hands down from his neck, opting to work open the first few buttons of his shirt. Dipping your hands beneath the fabric, Gepard shuddered lightly at your cold touch.
He moved his hands from your hips to your wrists, gently gripping them. "Not on the couch," he breathed. Of course, same old Gepard. That's one rule that's never changed for the whole three years you've been with him. You gave him a quick peck on the nose, followed by a mock salute. Gepard smiled in return, uttering "Your form is off," before scooping you up in his arms. 
Your surprise was quickly muffled by his lips on yours, his kiss filled with love and devotion towards you. He made quick work of whisking you off to the bedroom, lightly tossing you onto the soft mattress of your shared bed. You could barely sit up before he was leaning over you, covering your body with his large frame. 
"We're not on the couch anymore, are you happy?" You teased, smiling up at him mischievously. Gepard only rolled his eyes in response, lowering his head to kiss you once again. It was deeper this time, only growing more heated as your hands continued to undress him. Before you could undo his belt, his grip on your wrist stopped your ministrations. 
"Allow me," he replied, moving to undress you instead. He wedged his knee between your thighs, pushing them open before laying between them. He kept his arms wrapped around your legs, preventing you from closing them again. When he dipped his head between your thighs, you could only gasp at the feeling of his mouth on your heat. 
Gepard had more than enough practice over the last few years, and that much was evident. His skilled tongue worked across your sex, rolling over your most sensitive parts. The sensation of his hot mouth caused little stars to spot your vision, nails gripping the sheets so tight you were sure you'd rip them. Your gasps were like music to his ears, only fueling the fire deep within. 
His slicked fingers worked you open, gently scissoring your hole. Your back arched at the feeling as Gepard carefully prepared you, sparks of pleasure dashing across your body. But as the buildup started to reach its peak, mere seconds before your vision could go white and the fires of release consumed you, the sudden loss of his fingers and mouth left you cold and empty. The sensation immediately dissipated, fading into obscurity. 
Your breathing was ragged as your body attempted to come to terms with the orgasm you never had, blinking away the stars that dotted your vision. "W-Wait," you whispered, raising yourself onto your elbows. "Why'd you st-" But just as the words were about to leave your mouth, Gepard had turned you around onto your stomach, hand resting on your upper back. His free hand hurriedly worked to release his cock from the confines of his pants, as he pressed gentle kisses to the skin of your shoulder blades. 
Before you could complain again, he sunk his member deep into your heat. The weight of his body suspended above yours only added to the pleasure, slowly thrusting in sync with the rhythmic contraction of your walls. Each thrust was coupled with the soft grind of his hips, slowly working you back up to your pleasure point. He took his time, butterfly kisses dotting the back of your neck and ears. 
"Gepard…" You sighed, to which he replied with a soft hum. While you sincerely enjoyed his languid pace, you needed something more to soothe the ache in your loins. You pressed back against him, breathing a quiet “Faster,” to which he replied with a chuckle. Gepard slipped two fingers between your lips, hushing you with quiet whispers. 
You swirled your tongue around his digits, the cool metal of his wedding band contrasting the warmth of your mouth. When he pulled back his hand, a small whine escaped your lips, but your breath soon hitched in your throat as he suddenly increased his pace. He kept his hand pressed down on your lower back, preventing you from bucking back against him as he took you at his own pace. 
The way his cock slammed into you left you gasping for air, brushing against your deepest pleasure points. The heat was rising exponentially, drawing the knot in your belly tighter and tighter with each thrust. Gepard’s lips met the back of your ear, gently pressing kisses to the side of your head. As your cries intensified, you buried your face in the closest pillow you could reach, desperate to muffle the throes of your passion. 
But Gepard didn’t like the way you tried to hide, and he was quick to swipe the pillow from your hold. He pulled out in the process, and you whined at the sudden loss of contact. The heat from your core dissipated once again, and your orgasm fizzled out of reach a second time. Before you could make your disdain known, his hands gripped your hips to turn you around onto your back. 
At your gasp of surprise, his hands met your knees, pushing your thighs up against your chest. He buried himself back in your core, and the roughness of his actions made you wail into your palm. Gepard lowered himself to your face, prying your hand away with his own to clash his lips against yours. You reciprocated the kiss, interlocking your fingers with his. He swiped his tongue against your lower lip, to which you opened your mouth, your tongue meeting his. 
When he pulled back, your lips chased his, breaking the delicate string of saliva between you. Your chest heaved as you tried to regain your breath, tiny tears dotting your vision. You felt like you were melting in his hold, the heat of the moment escalating far beyond your limits. Your sighs were like music to Gepard’s ears as he made love to you, consummating your marriage a second time.
The hand from your thigh moved down to your abdomen, pressing into the skin to feel the way he moved inside of you. He gripped your hand tighter, slightly increasing the pace to chase his orgasm. His cock glided effortlessly, bruising your deepest parts as you sang him praise. The pressure rose even higher in your core, building on your previously denied release. 
Amidst his passion, Gepard managed to grunt out a quiet “Where do you want it?” ghosting his lips along the side of your face. You managed to compose yourself just enough to answer, barely squeaking out “Inside,” before another moan tore itself from your throat. Gepard’s hands came to rest on your thighs again, burying himself impossibly deep in your core.
The sensation of his load warming you from within sent you over the edge as well, whispers of his name escaping your lips as your nails dug into his arm. Sparks of electrifying bliss enveloped your body, walls clenching around his cock. Gepard rode out his high, gently grinding his hips against yours. His lips met yours again, this time kissing you much softer than before. 
When he pulled away, some of his cum dripped from your core. You finally released your iron grip on his hand, sitting up to meet him at eye-level. “Why don’t we go get cleaned up,” you asked, your hand cupping the side of his face. Gepard hummed in approval, turning his head to place a kiss on your palm. 
“I think a bath would do,” he spoke, pulling you off the bed and into his arms. Though you weren’t really sure how much cleaning you’d actually get done. All in all, any time you got to spend with your beloved husband was a win in your books.
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(melts) i saw a ballet concert, had my hair done, went out w/ my dad nd played league wit my friends. nun of these activities allowed me 2 write my smutty smut dis week waahhhh hopefully back on schedule now :') i tried 2 write dis extra long as an apology, also referenced multiple online sources 4 gn!smut 2 attempt 2 educate myself........
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madaqueue · 8 months ago
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Practice Makes Perfect | Chapter 4
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synopsis: you and yuji have been best friends basically as long as you can remember, and you made a promise to each other to stay friends and help each other be the best versions of yourselves for your future partners. but will things change when yuji finally starts looking for a relationship?
pairing: yuji itadori (18+) x f!reader
themes/content: modern college au (characters aged up to 18+). language, fluff, angst. some suggestive language at the end. 18+, MDNI
word count: 2.0k
a/n: RAAAAAA it’s getting real lmao
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Sitting towards the back of the room, you take note of the messy black hair and all black clothes. You walk over to him with a smile on your face. “Megumi?” you question.
The boy looks up from his notes and meets your eyes. “Oh, hey, Yuji’s friend. I didn’t know you were in this class,” he says, gesturing at the seat next to him and inviting you to sit.
“I could say the same to you,” you respond, setting down your backpack and getting settled next to him. You have never been this close to Megumi before, and notice his very subtle cologne that leaves a warm and almost smokey scent hanging in the air around him.
“I’m a biology major, so it kinda makes sense I’d have to be here,” he says, turning back towards his notes. You notice a small smirk forming on one side of his mouth as he does so.
As soon as you open your mouth to reply, your professor waltzes in at the front of the lecture hall, her heels softly clacking against the wood floor and the room falls quiet except for her voice. You and Megumi sit in silence for the rest of the class as you furiously scribble in your notes, trying to keep up with what Dr. Ieiri is lecturing on. Halfway into the class you glance over at Megumi’s notes and see he’s just…doodling? His page is full of drawings, from dogs to birds and frogs, covering the lined paper in front of him. He notices you staring and glances up at you out of the corner of his eye before turning his attention back to the paper. His drawing style suddenly shifts as he sketches a new shape. You watch him, mesmerized, as you realize he’s drawing…you?
Dr. Ieiri seems to end abruptly as she dismisses everyone, but you stay seated, waiting for Megumi to finish up his work. He tears the page out of his notebook and hands it to you without a word before putting everything on his desk into his backpack. You begin to pack up, unsure of what to say. After all, nobody has ever drawn you before - are you supposed to thank him? Should you give it back? In a panic, you stutter, “U-um, I’m going to go study at the library, if you want to come with me?”
Megumi glances up at you and softly responds, “Sure,” before tossing his backpack over his shoulder.
The two of you find a quiet table in the back corner of the library, dimly lit from the overhead lights and warm afternoon sun pooling in from a nearby window. You get started on your work quietly until Megumi clears his throat. “So, you never answered why you’re in Dr. Ieiri’s class,” he invites.
“Well, I’m an engineering major, but I’m still not sure what kind I want to be yet, so I have to take all these classes that are supposed to help me figure it out, and biology is one of them,” you explain. Megumi nods in response, before you continue, “I know I like to work with my hands, but I also like to think about problems before I have to solve them, which makes it hard to decide on a path. I know I don’t like computers, but I do love math. And I really didn’t expect to like Dr. Ieiri’s class as much as I do, so now I’m not sure,” you trail off. You pause for a moment, hoping you weren’t rambling. “You said you’re a bio major, right? Why’d you choose that? Also, I didn’t see you in her class last week, but we had definitely already met at Yuji’s, and you weren’t really paying attention today-” you stop yourself, realizing you were definitely rambling this time.
Megumi looks down. “Yeah I’m um…I’m actually retaking this class, so I kind of know it already.” You wait for him to continue. “Last fall my sister got really sick. Well, she got more sick, I guess. I had to take some time off to take care of her, so I ended up failing Dr. Ieiri’s class the first time I took it. I was gone last week because my sister was supposed to have this really big surgery and I wanted to be there for her, but they ended up postponing it, so I just stayed at the hospital with her for the rest of the week. She’s actually the reason I’m a bio major - I want to be a doctor so I can help people like her. It’s not fair what happened, and I want to make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else.” He stops, realizing his hands had formed into fists as he was talking. His body relaxes and he shrugs, trying to ease some of the weight from the information he had just shared with you.
“I think it’s really sweet that you care about your sister so much,” you say. “It sounds like she is really important to you.” Megumi nods, still not looking up from the table. Unsure what else to say, you reach a hand out to touch his shoulder, hoping it provides some comfort. He leans into your touch, resting his cheek on the top of your hand. The feeling of his hair brushing against your arm gives you the ever-familiar butterflies and you try not to visibly blush. The two of you stay like that for a moment, comfortable in the silence, before you hear your phone buzz in your pocket. Megumi lifts his head up so you can use your hand to answer it, and he slowly gets back to work as you pull your phone out and look at it.
Incoming call: “YuYu”
You smile at the nickname he put in your phone for you when he first gave you his number back in highschool. You answer it and hold the phone up to your ear.
“Hey! Sorry I keep calling you randomly, but I have a bit of an emergency. But, this time it’s a good emergency, I promise. Remember that date I was supposed to have tonight? Turns out she can’t go anymore, but I already have a reservation at this new sushi place I have been dying to try, and I knowwwww you love sushi,” he says, and you can practically hear his smile through the phone. “I already know you’re going to say yes, so I’ll meet you at your place at 6:00 and we can walk over together. Oh, and it’s kind of fancy but not too fancy, but don’t worry about it too much! Okay great, I’ll see you then!” he finishes before hanging up.
You didn’t even get a word in for that entire conversation, but it looks like you now have plans tonight. Glancing at your now unlocked phone screen, you realize it’s already almost 5:00. “Shit,” you mutter under your breath. “I’m sorry Megumi, but I have to go,” you say, turning your attention back to the boy across from you.
“No worries,” he says with a soft smile. “This was really nice, we should study again sometime. Here, let me give you my number.” He holds his hand out for your phone and you give it to him, watching him put in his contact information before handing it back to you. You collect your study materials and wave at him as you walk out of the library.
When you arrive at the restaurant, you are shocked by Yuji’s definition of “kind of fancy.” The place is absolutely gorgeous, with natural wood and stone forming high ceilings, small fountains and mini waterfalls creating a soothing ambiance as the water collects in a river that winds throughout the restaurant. You walk over small bridges that decorate the interior to reach your table, surrounded by plants that provide some natural privacy. You felt slightly out of place despite wearing your nicest dress and heels, especially compared to Yuji in his black slacks and sport coat. You have to admit, though, the boy does clean up nicely.
Without getting a chance to even look at the menu, Yuji orders for both of you when the server returns. You gently smack his arm from across the table. “Hey, why did you do that? How could you assume what I wanted?” you ask playfully.
“I told you, I know you,” he shrugs. “Besides, dinner is on me since I dragged you out here last-minute. There’s some stuff I’ve been wanting to try ever since this place opened, and I got some things you’ll like, too,” he explains through a toothy grin.
“How generous, getting me things I’ll actually like,” you smirk, rolling your eyes. “Speaking of ‘dragging me here,’ what happened with your date?” you ask, trying to hide any remnants of jealousy.
“Oh, she just had something come up with a friend, but we rescheduled for next week. Plus, after the last practice date kind of went to shit, I figured it would be nice to actually get used to this place before the real-deal,” he says nonchalantly.
For some reason, his words sting more than you expect. Referring to this girl as the real-deal means that he must think you’re less than her, less deserving of his time or energy or-
Your thoughts cut off as an enormous pile of food gets set down on your table. There seems to be everything from nigiri to sashimi and tempura, all of it looking mouth-wateringly good. Yuji thanks the server and immediately starts digging in. Your stomach growls involuntarily and you’re forced to push your thoughts aside as you take a bite.
“Oh, my god,” you practically groan through the rice. “This is insane.”
“Right?” Yuji agrees, his cheeks puffed out from being so full of food.
The two of you eat in silence, savoring the combination of flavors in front of you, until Yuji pulls his phone out of his pocket. He smiles down at it and starts typing a message, and you can almost feel your blood boil. In an attempt to defuse your emotions you glance down at your phone, which unlocks to the recent contact page with Megumi’s information open on it. What the hell you think, typing out a message to send to him.
You: “hey Megumi, thanks for hanging out today, it was really nice”
Your phone buzzes almost immediately.
Megumi: “If this is who I think it is, I agree. Are you free tomorrow? There’s a new cafe off campus that’s really cozy, and I have some exams next week I need to study for. I’d love to see you”
The message makes you feel warm inside - he would love to see you? Of course you have to say yes.
You: “i’m free, how’s 11:00 sound? meet at your place?”
He ‘love’ reacts your message, which you take as affirmation of your plans. You put your phone back into your purse and look back up to see Yuji still smiling down at his phone. “Hey, it’s rude to be on your phone at the table,” you tease, but it comes out more irritated than you intended.
“Sorry, Nobara just said something funny and-” he cuts off, looking up at you realizing he had never told you the name of the girl he actually had feelings for, even though you already knew from seeing her name on his phone this morning.
“Oh, so is this ‘Nobara’ the one you were supposed to take out tonight?” you ask slyly. Yuji just nods blankly, trying to read your facial expressions. “Well, she must be quite special then,” you respond, desperately attempting to shove down any lingering jealousy as you maintain eye contact. “I actually have a date tomorrow, too,” you continue, not looking away from him. He cocks his head to the side, waiting for you to continue and taking another huge bite from the dwindling pile of food between you. “Speaking of which, I actually was hoping to get some practice too…” you trail off. “I want to suck your cock.”
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