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a lil smth for !guarddog!rafe love?
he’s so mean and so tough in front of ppl always glaring with those pretty eyes but the moment he’s with u in ur room after a long day of woe he switches up like he’s not the same rafe AT ALL
Tysm queen n love ur acc
୭ 𓈒 GUARDDOG!RAFE ゜✸ having another side when with you ❞ ❞
˙ ˳ ✱ love this ᵎᵎ and i so appreciate it pretty ‹𝟹 ˚ ゛ ° ✱ being rafe’s soft spot ⩩ meanie rafe ⩩ softie rafe ⩩ ˚ ゛ °
he could’ve moved the bone out of place with how quick and aggressively he moved his arm from the back of the couch when a girl grazed it. the girl in question flinched, turning back to rafe, having grazed his arm by accident. rafe mugged her, flinching right back. the girl scampered away . . good. his knee bounced as he scanned the room, not catching onto anything the people sitting around him were chatting about.
“rafe knows what i’m talking about.” no, no he doesn’t. rafe turned to the voice, raising his brow.
the guy chuckled, the noise fading off as he took in rafe’s face. “the . . some girls just don’t think. bump into people and don’t say anything.” rafe realized he was referring to the girl who just ran off from him. rafe shrugged, looking elsewhere, not being able to appear more uninterested than he was. “ jus’ don’t like being touched . . or looked at . . or talked to . . ” he looked back to the guy at the last part.
luckily, he took the sign and turned back to his friends, talking with them instead. rafe looked over the group in front of him, his lips pulling into a frown, eyes filling with disdain. who were these people anyway. he pushed from the couch, only taking a few steps away when someone stepped in his way. with no hesitation, he shoved the guy aside, continuing forward. he ignored the shouts of complaint behind him.
he had spotted the exit when he saw a glimpse of hair amongst the crowd in front of him. he immediately directed his path toward it. some shoved bodies out of the way later, rafe caught up to you. you noticed him first, smiling big up at him. rafe grasped your sides, pulling you closer to him, scanning you for anything off. seeing nothing, he moved his grip up to your face. “i am so glad you’re here” he murmured softly. you giggled, scrunching your nose at his relieved expression. he looked as if he just just been through it, and you were his calm.
then rafe realized where you were. he scrunched his brow at you, not completely upset, never being able to be upset with you. not with that pretty face. he glanced to the people near you. he doesn’t know these people. not okay. one of the guy’s gaze was lingering a little too long on you. not okay. he sneered at the guy, pulling you even closer to him. the previous annoyance he felt earlier came back less intense with you in his arms. he looked around for a door, grabbing your hand. he led you two to a random room where he closed and locked the door.
he turned back to you, grabbing your arms to place around his neck and burrowed into you. “baby, you know i don’t like you at parties, but i missed you so much and touching you right now is something else. how do you feel so good? i don’t even care, just don’t let go of me” he mumbled into your top.
you giggled, holding on tighter, per his request. “yes, sir” you responded jokingly. rafe groaned, pulling back to look at you. he quickly turned to nip at your arm next to his head, catching you by surprise and causing you to yelp. “rafe!” you laughed again as he stared intently at you. “i missed it, you had to do it again” he referred to your giggle that he didn’t see, head squished to your side and all. you showed teeth, making rafe chuckle at you.
“i wanna leave. i wanna leave with you. don’t wanna be here anymore. this place sucks. you can tell me who those people were and i’ll deal with them later. i want you, please.”
you giggled at his ramble, nodding your head before he finished. “okay, rafe.”
#rafe cameron ˚ ⑅ ⍣#req ₊ ֗𓈀 ⌒#୨୧ guarddog!rafe#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe blurb#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron
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I'm not anywhere really near or into Kingdom Come: Deliverance, but since the second game released recently, I've seen a lot of new attention on my social medias, particularly around Henry and Hans' relationship
And I, very obviously, love queer characters and relationships, and even moreso the canon ones, so I watched the IGN video explaining how one might romance Hans in the second game
Man. I was blown away.
By now I've played a handful of rpg's and romanced a handful of npc's, but not ONCE has the dialogue and action of a confession scene ever felt quite so real and as beautifully acted
I have almost zero other context about the games or characters, yet I haven't stopped thinking about that romance scene in days
That you build up the affection and genuine care for Hans through dialogue choices feels completely non-forced, and you can tell that Hans enjoys your presence and respects you immensely. Henry gently encouraging and helping Hans when he's uncomfortable, always concerned about his wellbeing. There's such a solid foundation of mutual trust that even I, as an outside viewer, can tell that both men truly would put their lives in the others hands
And then the confession scene itself? Henry coming to say goodbye, and because of the work that has been put in to convey Henry's feelings of care and devotion for Hans, it's Hans himself who starts the conversation. He tells a story that he 'doesn't have his own words for', displaying that he's uncertain about how this might go, but knowing that it needs to be said before Henry leaves. He's both deflecting and projecting, using this story as a way to cushion the segue into his own feelings, or the blow of rejection should it come. And as Hans imagines something terrible happening to Henry, he immediately gets emotional, voice shaking, knowing he'd be unable to help
There's a small moment as Henry reassures that he'll be alright, when he places a hand on top of Hans' and this small, delightfully hopeful smile appears on Hans' face. I take this to be the moment where Hans believes that Henry has understood his story, and his way of confessing his feelings, and that Henry feels the same way about him. Then Henry stands, moving to leave and Hans' smile drops. Perhaps Henry's confidence falters here, and before he can reciprocate his true feelings and kiss him, Hans is running on adrenaline and courage and pulls Henry into the kiss instead, before he can second-guess himself
It's awkward, uncertain. Hans has this almost crushing grip on Henry like he's barely sure what he's just done, just that he couldn't let him walk away without doing something . And when Henry turns his head and steps back, noises of shock and breathlessness, Hans jumps back like he's been burned and spurned. He's stammering and stuttering out an apology, quiet and upset, unlike his usual self
Hans' body language as he turns away, making himself smaller, making more space between them than is necessary, it displays how he thinks his actions have just been perceived - that Henry doesn't feel the same way, he just ruined a perfectly good friendship, he's made himself look weak. He rubs at his mouth like he wishes he could remove the feel of Henry's lips against his own, tries apologising again, gasping for air, screws up his face in anxiety or anger for his recklessness......
Then Henry makes his own decision and speeds back over to him, pulling him into an even more crushing embrace and kiss, before they make their way over to the bed
The acting direction here in this scene is just so delectablely real . It looks and feels like I'm a fly on the wall of a real life confession, where both men are less than certain about their futures, and even less certain about how their relationship is perceived in the others eyes. Hans is visibly scared of rejection when Henry turns his back, Henry is visibly coming to terms with what he wants in this moment
The reactions are the most natural thing in the world, especially in a game that strives for realism. There was clearly a great deal of care that went into writing and directing this relationship, and with how naturally it progressed to this climax
And I think that's where the divide is for me, when I think about the romance options in BG3 or other rpgs, because there is something more flowery and shiny about those romances that I've experienced. Like they're too perfect, too polished and rehearsed, no room to have any fuck ups or moments of imperfection. But it's the awkwardness and show of non-positive emotions and reactions, rather than immediate lust and experience, that really pins the Henry and Hans scene above the rest
There's probably more I could say, and I'm sure there's more that others who know these characters and the games could say, but I just wanted to get my thoughts into some words and hope that it strikes true with someone else
I don't think I've ever seen a romance scene in a video game, that has felt so genuine as this. A thousand kudos to the actors for Hans and Henry, and the writers and directors for this marvellously curated scene ❤️
#kingdom come deliverance#kingdom come deliverance 2#kcd#kcd2#hans capon#henry of skalitz#hansry#kcd2 spoilers#kcd henry#kcd hans#kcd meta#kingdom come: deliverance 2#kingdom come: deliverance
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glitter hearts | s.c.
steph catley x mccabe!reader | 2.7k | your first valentine's day with Steph
ˏˋ°•*⁀ this is part of the enchanted to meet you universe. this is set before world cup surprises, their first valentine's together as a couple <3 also i am very busy until sunday but wanted a little valentine's day fic for y'all. i might have time to write an alexia x lil mac one too but no promises <3 enjoy!
any and all feedback, comments, reblogs etc are very appreciated and welcome <3
‘Katie,’ You whispered out, ‘...Katie…’ Your older sister, unsuspecting while she slept, you had slowly crept into her room in the middle of the night. You sighed, waking up Katie had always been difficult so you started gently shaking her shoulder, ‘Katie! Wake up!’
‘What-’ Katie blinks, half sitting up, hands up ready to fight whoever is intruding in her room and in the process half pushing you back when she pushed your hands away from her.
‘Katie,’ You whispered a bit more firmly than before, but still a whisper trying to settle your sister who was still on alert.
‘Oh it’s you,’ Katie grumbled and laid back down, closing her eyes and slightly shifting her body away from you, ‘What you want?’ Turning her head back to look your direction, eyebrow slightly raised, a slight glare in her eyes.
‘Do you think she’ll like this?’ Suddenly your voice went small and you fidgeted with the little card you were holding in your hand. You weren’t nervous when you decided to come wake your sister up but now you were wondering if maybe you should’ve waited until at least a few more hours when the sun would make an appearance.
Your sister definitely would’ve been more forgiving and supportive, anyway you were here and already committed to waking her up. So you held out the card in front of her while she just gave you a questioning look, ‘Steph. Do you think Steph will like it?’
‘You woke me up at…,’ Katie blindly reached out for her phone, grimacing as the brightness of her screen lit up her face, ‘...at 3 in the morning to ask me about a…a handmade card?’
‘Katie,’ You whined out when she pushed the card back towards you, not really bothering to look at it. You, ever persistent and just as stubborn as your older sister in getting what you want, held the card back out towards her, ‘There’s more but, I didn’t want to push my luck in actually getting you out of bed,’
‘You and coming into my room in the middle of the night,’ Katie muttered under her breath, it wasn’t a common occurrence but there were plenty of times you’d woken your older sister up at all different hours of the night. Katie didn’t really mind, she’d always be there for you, your protective slightly older sister.
Slowly but surely making a move to get out from the coziness of her blankets into the chill of the night, ‘I’m gonna have to get a lock or just kick you out. Go annoy someone else,’ The way Katie’s lips turned upwards slightly in the corner was all you needed to know she wasn’t actually being serious. You’d be the same if the roles were reversed.
Katie’s eyes went wide when she saw the state of her dining room, ‘Not only did you wake me in the middle of the night, you woke me to show me you destroyed my house,’
‘You’re so dramatic,’ Rolling your eyes at your sister's comments, making your way through the scrap pieces of paper, glitter, markers and tape that littered the room, to pick up what you’d been working on, ‘So…?’
Katie’s eyes softened the moment you stood in front of her, the little handmade gift in your arms with a dumb proud look on your face, ‘Alright, give it here,’ Katie begrudgingly held out her hand so you could give her the gift so she could look at i properly. The more she looked at it the more she couldn’t be mad with you for waking her up, in all honesty Katie could hardly be mad at you for long anyway there was just something about you that stopped almost anyone from being mad or annoyed with you for a long time.
‘Mac, Steph is gonna love this,’ You let out a soft sigh, your eyes hopeful as Katie gave the gift back to you.
‘Yeah? Are you sure?’ There was always a flicker of doubt that crossed over you. Since Alexia you struggled a lot more than you had previously, doubting your actions and second guessing the things you did. You still hadn’t properly let Steph in, struggling to get too close in case things came crashing down suddenly.
You hadn’t been with Steph for a long time, though you know it was definitely long enough that saying ‘I love you’ would be acceptable. Steph was always understanding when it came to you, even without the little warning talk your older sister gave her, you couldn’t be more thankful. It was your first valentine’s together and you hoped that this gift would show and tell Steph that you love her, even if you couldn’t find the words to say it just yet.
You’d come a long way since you moved to England, but these little moments Katie hated when flickers of self doubt ran through your mind knowing where they’d stemmed from, ‘I’m 100% positive. Steph looks at you like you hung the moon and the stars yourself,’ You looked down, letting out a small breath, half a laugh, trying to keep your cheeks from heating up too much, ‘You could probably give her a speck of glitter and she’d talk about how she was the luckiest person in the world,’
Katie had definitely overheard way too many conversations Steph talking about you to Beth. At first she deliberately eavesdropped just to make sure Steph was treating you right but since then she wished she would stop running into that situation. There’s only so many times Katie can stand to hear it, especially since she has to hear it from you all the time.
‘Yeah…yeah you’re right,’ Your smile was bashful, always was when you thought of Steph. There was a moment where you didn’t think you would ever feel this way about someone again. After a long few years, you found and let yourself have that happiness again.
‘I always am,’ Katie smirked while stifling a yawn, a reminder at how early it was and that the two of you should definitely be asleep, ‘Now my house better not look like a glitter bomb exploded when I get up later,’ You rolled your eyes as Katie made her way back up the stairs to her room but not before shouting back down at you, ‘And maybe try to get some sleep,’
‘Yes ma,’ You shouted back up at her, laughing when you heard Katie’s door shut a bit more loud than normal.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
‘Stephy, hi,’ You wrapped your arms around Steph’s waist, giving her a quick little hug, greeting her since you’d just arrived at training, ‘Happy Valentine’s day,’ You spoke softly, sitting next to her so your shoulders were touching and handing her a singular rose you’d picked up on your way to training that morning.
‘Aw, happy Valentine's day,’ Steph took the rose from you, giving you a kiss on your cheek, ‘You look like you haven’t slept,’ Steph commented, her hand brushing some stray hairs back from your face, a little bit of worry etched on her face.
‘She hasn’t and neither have I,’ Katie grumbled from the other side of the room. Steph looked between the two of you, silently questioning.
‘Don’t worry about it. You know how Katie is-’
‘Dramatic,’ Steph finished off what you were saying, sharing a laugh between the two of you before you were being hit with a shoe that came at you from across the room.
‘Hey!’ Katie just shot you a look that said you had it coming before she left the pair of you, ‘Anyway, we still on for tonight?’
‘Of course, I wouldn't miss getting to spend a night with you,’ Steph leaned her head on your shoulder, looking down at the rose that she was still holding on to. She was trying to stay calm but still every time she was close to you, her stomach erupted in that nice fuzzy, full of butterflies kind of feeling. Steph was grateful you gave her a chance, she didn’t know everything that happened in Barcelona, but she saw a lot of the aftermath when you moved.
After training Steph drove the two of you back to where you were staying with Katie, your hand placed on top of hers, lacing your fingers together. Katie wasn’t going to be home, you made sure of it, wanting to make your first Valentine’s day night together as special as you could. You’d already set up everything before you left this morning, triple checking everything so you didn’t forget a single thing.
‘I’m sorry we aren’t going out or doing anything particularly special,’ The nerves started taking over, you were worried that this wouldn’t be special enough, or just enough in general for Steph. You were putting a lot of pressure on yourself for tonight to be perfect.
‘Shh, love, a night in with you is perfect and just what I- we both need. I don’t care what we do, as long as I’m with you,’ Steph gently turned you so you were facing her, a hand lifting your head so you were looking at her. You could see in her eyes that she meant every word. Steph leant her forehead against yours, ‘Hi,’
You let out a giggle, brushing your nose softly against hers, ‘Hi,’ Your lips finding hers, a quick but firm kiss. Pulling away, or at least Steph tried to, but not before you pulled her back in for another little kiss, holding onto her so she wouldn’t go further than just in the doorway, ‘You gotta close your eyes,’
You also covered Steph’s eyes with your hands just to make sure she wouldn’t try to sneak a peek at your surprise for her. Trying to lead Steph throughout the house, whisper yelling at coopurr when he wouldn’t move out of the way, you didn’t want Steph to trip over anything and he just wasn’t cooperating with you.
You smiled at Steph’s laughs, you’d complained about the cat quite a few times to her, how he was always out to get you but anytime Steph was around he was always an angel, but to you was a different story, ‘Leave poor Coopurr alone, he just wants to see his favourite person,’ Steph teased
‘I’ll tell Katie you said that,’ Successfully clearing the path to where you wanted to lead Steph to.
‘You wouldn’t,’ Steph had already taken her little sister from her, she wouldn’t risk Katie hearing she was taking her son too, they still had to play together.
‘Try me babe,’ You smirked when Steph gasped a little in surprise when she felt your lips on hers. Your hands slowly uncovered her eyes, resting them on her waist and pulling Steph against you. You pulled away, slightly out of breath but still holding Steph in your arms. Her eyes widened when she took a quick glance over your shoulder.
‘All that…for me?’ Steph was in shock looking at everything you had set up. A teddy bear holding a bouquet of flowers, some heart shaped chocolates and chocolate covered strawberries, heart shaped balloons and in the middle of it all were three neatly wrapped presents. Presents you’d rewrapped a million times each, wanting to make sure they were wrapped perfectly.
It really looked like a scene from those cheesy rom coms the two of you had indulged in many times together. You’d gone all out but Steph meant the world to you and you needed her to know, ‘It’s our first Valentine’s together, I wanted to make it special for you,’ You had your arm around Steph’s waist, keeping her pulled into your side while she took it all in.
‘You make every day special,’ Steph leaned her head on your shoulder, turning her head to look at you. You looked down, smiling softly at her, ‘Thank you my love,’
‘Anything for you Stephy,’ You whispered, the music in the background seemed dull, the two of you lost in each other, ‘So which one did you want to open first?’ You nodded towards the presents, nervous but eager to see what Steph thought of them, in particular the one you had made for her.
Steph let out a small laugh, her hand gently squeezing yours and shuffling close to you, as if she could get any closer, ‘I’ve already got my favourite present right here,’ Turning her head she brushed her lips against your neck, a shiver shot down your spine. You bit your lip, closing your eyes briefly to try to compose yourself. Though it was always hard around Steph.
‘You’re my favourite too,’ You smiled sheepishly, slight redness appearing over your cheeks. Steph kissed your neck more firmly, her lips lingering. You could feel her smile against your skin and it was enough to send your heart racing, ‘Alright, no more teasing,’ You whined softly, feeling her press more kisses against your neck.
Steph reluctantly pulled away and let you lead her to sit on the couch. Your hands shook slightly as you picked up the present you’d spent hours making, hoping that holding onto it would make the shaking less noticeable. You knew Steph noticed when her eyes softened, though to be fair to Steph her eyes always softened when she looked at you but you could tell there was something different behind her eyes.
‘Hey,’ Steph spoke softly, her hand resting against your thigh once you’d sat next to her, ‘It’s just me,’ She smiled at you reassuringly. You relaxed as much as you could almost instantly, the effect Steph had on you, you both loved and felt terrified over it.
‘I just really hope you’ll like it,’ You looked down, placing the gift on Steph’s lap, ‘And if you don’t- I- There’s a few more, maybe you’ll like one of those,’ Nervously you rambled, a habit that would overcome you every time you got nervous or anxious.
‘Mac baby, it’s from you,’ Steph held the present, her smile never wavering, ‘I’m going to love it,’ You nodded your head, taking a deep breath. You still hated how unsure of yourself you could get, maybe one day you’ll get back to being your usually confident self more often than not.
While Steph was opening the present, your eyes were glued to your hands, not wanting to see any potential rejection at the present you made. Though what you really missed was Steph’s mouth opening in surprise, the few little tears that welled up in the corners of her eyes and the love she looked at every page with.
You spent hours putting together a little scrapbook. A scrapbook that held all the memories and love you had for each other. From the trips and memories you made while you were ‘just friends’ to the last few months that you’d officially been together for. You included Steph’s favourite colours amongst the markers, paper and glitter that you used. Lots of hearts over each page. So many photos of the two of you from over the last year.
‘Wow- I-’ Steph couldn’t find the words to tell you how much it meant to her. Your eyes wide when you finally looked her way, expecting to see a form of hatred or disgust, instead you were met with her lips on yours.
Blindly Steph put the scrapbook to the side, pushing you down against the couch, your lips never leaving each other. Your hands found their way to her hips, fingers grazing underneath the hem of her shirt, dancing along Steph’s bare skin. Steph put all of her emotion and feelings for you into the kiss, deepening it, pressing herself against you more.
Your cheeks were flushed, lips swollen when you finally broke away from each other, besides for the little pecks you’d both give, never getting enough, ‘So you liked it…’ You let out a breathy laugh, voice trailing off still getting your breath back.
‘More than liked it babe,’ Steph’s hand rested against your cheek, her thumb rubbing gently, ‘You’re too sweet and thoughtful. I really like you…’
‘I really like you too,’ There was a look of understanding shared in that moment. The words you both wanted to say were on the tips of your lips, even though neither of you actually said it, you could see it in each other's eyes and that was enough for now.
#steph catley x reader#woso x reader#woso#woso community#steph catley#awfc x reader#auswnt x reader#woso one shot#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso appreciation#steph catley imagine#awfc imagine
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I understand why you don't want to get into the nuance of what privilege is and such but I have been aching to every time I pass by someone talking about this post.
And you know what! I don't feel bad linking it, because it's free! Available for free from the mouth of the woman who gave us the concept itself! And you can pay just $4 for the rest of the essay!
Specifically:
For this reason, the word “privilege” now seems to me misleading. We usually think of privilege as being a favored state, whether earned or conferred by birth or luck. Yes some of the conditions I have described here work to systematically over empower certain groups. Such privilege simply confers dominance because of one’s race or sex. I want, then, to distinguish between earned strength and unearned power conferred systemically. Power from unearned privilege can look like strength when it is in fact permission to escape or to dominate. But not all of the privileges on my list are inevitably damaging. Some, like the expectation that neighbors will be decent to you, or that your race will not count against you in court, should be the norm in a just society. Others, like the privilege to ignore less powerful people, distort the humanity of the holders as well as the ignored groups.
And
Difficulties and dangers surrounding the task of finding parallels are many. Since racism, sexism, and heterosexism are not the same, the advantaging associated with them should not be seen as the same. In addition, it is hard to disentangle aspects of unearned advantage which rest more on social class, economic class, race, religion, sex and ethnic identity than on other factors. Still, all of the oppressions are interlocking, as the Combahee River Collective Statement of 1977 continues to remind us eloquently.
And
One factor seems clear about all of the interlocking oppressions. They take both active forms which we can see and embedded forms which as a member of the dominant group one is taught not to see. In my class and place, I did not see myself as a racist because I was taught to recognize racism only in individual acts of meanness by members of my group, never in invisible systems conferring unsought racial dominance on my group from birth.
You see, it's very interesting to me as I'm sure you're tired of hearing by now, that we've got the theory directly from the people who have coined the words, and for some reason we have a serious, grievous misunderstanding on what the theory is talking about.
To put it bluntly, privilege is about material benefits for being a member of an empowered class, and not simply something that you possess due to your identity. This is not just my understanding but the direct words of the woman who coined the word "privilege" to be used to talk about this exact concept. To say that it is not is actively going against the theory that surrounds the concept in the first place.
As for whether or not trans men have male privilege- that entirely depends on the trans man in question, is highly conditional and individual, and relies on a significant amount of overlapping dynamics of various systems of oppression. I don't know that Julie (but Jack in his head) who looks identical to any other cis woman and moves through life this way has a demonstratable amount of male privilege. I do think perhaps Roger, who looks identical to any other cis man and moves through life this way, probably does as long as he keeps his mouth shut about certain things. I think the same system that harms Julie is the one that uplifts Roger. I think this system hurt Roger quite a bit when he was still going by Kendra. And I think this system turns on Roger the instant it smells blood in the water, and hurt him very badly the moment it gets the opportunity
In this essay, McIntosh goes on to list a number of privileges she as a white woman holds over any and all black people. She relates most to black women- unsurprising as she namedrops the Combahee River Collective and is working primarily through an anti-racist yet deeply feminist lens- but does mention at times how whiteness grants her a shield not shared by black men's own male privilege.
This is why I always ask- what are you (general) defining as privilege? Give me an example, and don't just say it's because the demographic exists or by definition of identity. Identity is not privilege. How the world treats you, how society is structured to either lift you up or grind you under the heel, and the relative safeties or dangers of your life are what privilege amounts to.
If you (general) don't want to hear it from me, you don't have to. But at least read the damn essay so I can stop saying "that's not what privilege means though" every time I read a take like this.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/5573bd79c0db925aa34f48b551f0189e/cfe4fd1264e1146e-9e/s540x810/719b6e5abb1f3f455cdd4968bbef627dc86c1f77.jpg)
i’m not even gonna break this one down bc “male privilege isn’t a material benefit it’s just literally not being a woman” i think pretty much speaks for itself.
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Perfection
Word Count: 3.1 K. Joel Miller x f!reader. You are a server at an event where Joel is the client and you make a mistake that needs fixing aka Joel fucks your face because you fucked up.
Warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, AU, oral male receiving, deepthroating/face fucking, swallowing, dubcon (power imbalance, reader works for Joel), reader has hair that can be pulled, orgasm denial
a/n: is this even a Joel Miller fic at this point or is it just straight up a Pedro Pascal fic? idk because this fic was 100% inspired by the Fantastic Four trailer and how goddamn neat and pressed he looks in one frame and then a stressed mess in another. That astronaut image is DOING things to me. so here's pedro with a southern accent I guess lmao. this is the meanest I've ever written Joel. I can't do this I need my soft sweet man back.
Enjoy!
#chantersboardwritessometimes for other work (I will make a masterlist one of these days... maybe)
Perfection
The staff had been warned: be on your best behavior; tonight’s host was a perfectionist. The tablecloths were steamed twice and the cutlery was washed and dried by hand. The fresh flowers in the centerpieces were measured and cut to be the exact same length. New curtains were flown in from France and crystal flutes were flown in from Italy. Every handrail and doorknob and bathroom faucet was polished until it shone.
No detail was overlooked for this event and you could tell as you walked through the room. You have been a server for almost a year now yet you’ve never seen a gala as polished as this one. Your white dress shirt and black pencil skirt are stiff with starch—a must from the host—as you balance a tray of champagne, smiling politely at whoever picks up a bubbling glass by the stem. It’s not long until your tray is empty and you make your way to the kitchen.
When you push through the swinging doors you find some of the kitchen crew crowding the entrance.
“Did you see him?” one of them asks.
Another one answers, “Guy with the red and gold pocket square and the salt and pepper beard? Yeah, I saw him.”
“Joel Miller,” someone says with ire. “He’s the reason we’re putting in all these extra hours.”
They continue to complain while someone loads your tray with new glasses. He made the chef redo several dishes. He said the napkins weren’t folded correctly. He sent a server home because their clothes weren’t pressed enough. He told someone in the quartet their instrument was out of tune.
The outlandish complaints continue and a chill creeps up your spine. The host sounds absolutely horrible. You’ve worked events with bridezillas and micromanagers and clients straight from hell but this guy takes the cake. You make a mental note to stay out of his way. Better safe than sorry.
You grab the tray of Italian flutes full of chilled champagne and begin to head back to the floor. Just as you’re turning the corner someone inside the kitchen calls for you. You turn your head, just for a moment, looking to see who needs you, when you slam into someone.
The imported glasses wobble and fall onto the tray and the golden liquid splashes in every direction. You watch a shiny flute tumble to the floor and explode into a million glittering shards.
“Shit,” you mumble. “I’m sorr—”
Your apology is caught in your throat when you finally look up. You recognize the red and gold pocket square first, then the salt and pepper beard. Yes, it would be just your luck to spill champagne all over the host Joel Miller.
His hair is perfectly styled, no strand is out of place. The graying temples are slicked back and you wouldn’t be surprised if each individual hair was cut to line up just so. His facial hair is also trimmed neatly and it shows off his strong jaw. Manicured eyebrows sit above intense brown eyes. He is a handsome man, there’s no doubt about that.
His suit fits him well, despite his stature. He’s tall and his shoulders are broad. You can tell he works out in some capacity. His jacket and shirt would have needed to be tailored to fit around his muscles.
The same jacket and shirt currently soaked in champagne. Your eyes widen in fear. What do you do? What do you say?
“S-sir. I am so, so sorry.” You can feel the cold, expensive liquid wet on your chest. It has turned your white blouse sheer and it does little to hide that your nipples are hardening from the sudden change in temperature.
“You should watch where you’re going,” he says and you are surprised to hear a deep southern accent.
“I-I know,” you stammer, trying to balance the tray of toppled glasses so that no more champagne spills over. “Sir, Mr. Miller, again, I really do apologize. There is a staff bathroom right down this hall. Please, let me help you.”
Joel takes in the sight of you. Your hands shake the tray as you look up at him. You wait to be yelled at, wait to feel the wrath of this perfectionist, but instead he licks his lips. His eyes lower, lingering to where your shirt is most sheer, showing every detail of your pebbled nipples. His scrutiny makes your knees wobble.
You chew on your bottom lip and Joel’s attention snaps to your mouth. He watches your lips for what feels like an eternity before he takes the tray from you. He lowers and leaves it on the floor. When he rises again you catch a whiff of his cologne. He even smells handsome.
“You can’t even manage to hold a tray,” he says. His voice is leveled but you can still feel the anger beneath it. “So how can you help me?”
You open your mouth to say something but then promptly close it. You’re not really sure, you realize. It’s not like you have a spare suit tucked away somewhere. With your hands now free you wring them nervously. This is it. He’s going to send you home. He’s going to get you fired and then the kitchen staff will have more gossip to whisper about.
“I don’t know,” you admit. “Please, Mr. Miller, I really need to work the rest of this shift. I need this job. I’ll do anything to make it right. Please.”
He looks at you a long time again before something sinister flashes in his eyes. He brings a hand to your chin and swipes his thumb across your lips. The way he watches you as his finger plays with your lips sends a rush of heat between your legs.
“You’ll do anythin’?” He asks and he forces his thumb through your lips and into your mouth.
For a moment you’re surprised at his sudden intrusion. He doesn’t even know your name, yet his finger is currently rubbing against your tongue. You close your lips around him and gently suck his digit. You understand now. He’s not just a perfectionist. He’s a man that knows what he wants and how he wants it and isn’t afraid to take it.
And if it means keeping your job you’ll let him take whatever he wants.
You nod your head and Joel abruptly pulls his finger out of your mouth. He wipes his finger against the collar of your shirt.
“Well, go on then. Lead the way before you do something else stupid.”
—————
The staff bathroom isn’t spectacular. It’s a tiny room that houses a toilet and a sink. An empty mop bucket rests in the corner where someone scribbled F u C k on the wall. The room smells like cheap solid air freshener and almond hand soap.
The door hasn’t even fully closed behind Joel when he starts shrugging out of his jacket. He throws the garment on top of the bucket and you wince when you see just how soaked his clothes are.
“I should have you fired,” he says as he continues to undress, thumbing through the buttons on his shirt. “You’re not very good at your job.”
“I know.” You lean against the sink in the tight space. “I was careless. I’m sorry.”
His shirt hangs open and all that conceals his body is a thin undershirt. You grip the edge of the sink wanting to press your fingers into his chest.
His shirt slips off his shoulders and he chucks it with the jacket. “Look at you.” He touches your hip and drags his hand up your body, over your wet clothes, until he cups one of your breasts. “Your uniform is filthy. It’s not meeting the dress code.”
His fingers find the tip of your nipple and he pinches, eliciting a whimper from you. He grunts. “It’s disgusting. Take it off.”
He steps back so he can watch as you undo the buttons on your blouse. You peel your shirt off and reach behind you to pull down the zipper of your skirt. You allow your clothes to fall to the floor and you notice Joel’s cock hardening in his dress pants.
You nervously stand there in your underwear while Joel palms himself through his pants. “All of it,” he demands.
You nod before unclasping your bra and adding it to the pile on the floor. Joel is watching you intently, the large bulge in his pants pressing dangerously against his clothes. You pull down your panties and let them puddle at your feet.
You cross your arms against yourself. Joel is still mostly clothed and the contrast makes you feel shy and indecent. His eyes rake over your body, enjoying your nudity, enjoying your embarrassment. He likes that you’re uncomfortable and that realization turns you on. He has power over you and you desperately want him to take it.
Joel lowers the zipper on his pants and reaches inside and frees himself. A gasp slips past your lips when you see how incredibly large he is. Joel wraps his fingers around his cock and pumps himself. Even in his large hands his dick looks unbelievable.
“You like what you see?” He continues to pump his dick and you stare at it in awe. He laughs dryly when you don’t answer. “Get on your knees.”
You hesitate. You want to protest, to explain that whatever he has planned with that huge thing, it won’t fit. But then he steps close and his free hand tangles in your hair. He pulls you down, forcing your legs to fold under you. Your knees press into the cold tile.
He pulls on your hair so you’re looking up, past his stiff member, and at him. “When I tell you to do something, you fucking do it. Understand?” He shakes the hand wrapped in your hair and makes you nod. “Perfect.”
Joel brings his cock to your lips. “Kiss it.” He demands, and you do as you’re told.
“Lick it.” You stick your tongue out and lick the head of his cock, tasting the salty precum already beading there. Joel inhales sharply when you lick him again, running your tongue along the length of him.
Joel tightens his grasp on your hair and the pain translates to pleasure between your legs.
“You’re gonna suck my cock now.” For the second time he pushes a part of himself past your lips and into your mouth. Almost immediately your mouth is full of him. You loosen your jaw and allow him to push further into your wet hole. When you think he can’t fit anymore he pushes even further and you choke and sputter around him.
He yanks your hair and slips out of your mouth a little. “If you don’t do this right I’ll be forced to fuck your mouth.” You look up at him with wide eyes. “Do you want me to fuck your pretty little face?”
“Nuh-uh,” you mumble against him.
“Then suck me until I come.”
You take a short breath and hollow your cheeks around his cock. You begin to bob your head, pushing and pulling his dick through your lips. You suck on him, tasting his skin as his cockhead drags across your tongue.
You start to get comfortable with the size of him, taking more of his shaft into your mouth with each stroke. You press your tongue against him as you draw back and slurp him in as you push forward. You've got a momentum going and Joel rewards you with a moan.
The sound travels through his body, into your mouth, and settles at your core. He’s in your mouth but you want him in your pussy. You want him to fuck you against the sink. You want him to tell you how useless you are at your job while he fucks you senseless.
But his hand remains tangled in your hair, binding you to this position, so you continue to suck. He moans again when his dick nudges the back of your throat. Hearing him satisfied turns you on further and you bring your hand between your legs. You swipe your fingers up your slit, gathering your arousal, and rub your clit. You hum in relief as you grind your hips against your fingers.
Joel pulls your hair again, hard, and his dick pops out your mouth. “Did I say you can touch yourself?” His free hand squeezes the sides of your face and makes your lips pucker. “This is all you’re allowed to do.” He digs his fingers into your face for emphasis.
His hand releases your face so he can return his cock back into your mouth. He gently nudges himself through your lips, pushing until he touches the back of your throat. Then, he clasps the back of your neck into a strong hold.
“Since all you seem to do is make dumb decisions I’m gonna fuck your face and teach you a lesson.”
You panic, afraid of the size and girth of him plowing into your mouth. You try to lean back but the hold on your neck and hair keeps his cock firmly in your mouth.
He pulls his hips back and stares at you as he snaps his hips forward. “Don’t fight it.” He steadily picks up his pace. “Keep that mouth wet and open for me, baby.” In. Out. In. Out. “I want you to choke on it.”
His fingers tighten in your hair as he begins to move your head to meet his thrusts. He fucks your mouth hard and fast, pushing his cock into you until it won’t go any further. You do your best to relax and loosen your jaw while he uses you but he’s just too large. Your lips are stretched wide around him as he drills into you.
Your face is a mess. Drool falls down your chin and tears start to well in your eyes. Your throat has started to burn but you don’t want him to stop. You’re enjoying the pull on your scalp and the assault in your mouth. You want him to keep using you. You want someone outside the door to hear his moans. You want to touch yourself, you want to get off with the taste of his cock in your mouth, and knowing you can’t only makes you more aroused.
The wet sound of his hard dick pushing in and out of your mouth fills the room. He’s cursing under his breath watching himself disappear behind your lips. He pumps harder when you don’t expect and you gag around him. Tears freely fall down your face as you try to gain your composure.
“That’s it. Breathe through it. It’s okay to choke on it.” His hips stutter. “Fuck. You take my cock so well. Your mouth feels so fucking good, baby. You like my big cock in your mouth?”
You hum in reply, honestly loving every moment of this. His thrusts are coming faster now and his breathing is heavy. His once perfectly coiffed hair now falls over his face while he looks down at you. His pleasure is apparent in every inch of his face. It wouldn’t be much longer now.
“I’m gonna—fuck—I’m gonna come in your mouth. And you’re gonna swallow all of it.”
Joel’s cock continues to piston in and out of your mouth while he chases his orgasm. You can feel him growing more tense as his fingers dig into your neck. He shoves himself past your lips desperately, and then finally, his pleasure reaches the peak, and he comes.
He’s cursing as he pulls you close, shoving himself into your throat until your nose is pressed against him. His cock twitches against your tongue and his cum fills your mouth. You can barely breathe with your mouth so full and your nose closed against his body.
You love every moment of it. You love the power he has over you, the feeling of his cock jumping in your mouth in time to his gasps of air, the thickness of his cum, the sting on your scalp and the ache in your knees.
Once his breathing has slowed and his body has relaxed he loosens his hold on your head. You pull back, slipping his softening cock out of your mouth. You look up at him with your mouth open wide, your tongue cupping his cum. Joel watches you bring your lips together and swallow his release. You bring a finger to the corner of your lips and push any remaining cum into your mouth and lick your tips clean.
Joel smiles, satisfied with your performance, and extends a hand to help you up from the floor. Your knees wobble as you straighten and Joel pulls you in close, wrapping his arms around your waist to balance you. You breathe in the scent of him, his expensive cologne and his cum still coating your lips.
Joel’s hand moves from your waist, trailing across your body and down between your legs. He inhales deeply when his fingers slip into your slit and finds it soaking with your arousal.
“I ain’t gonna lie,” Joel says as he pulls a finger up and begins circling your clit. “That might’a been the best head I’ve ever gotten.”
You spread your legs a bit and allow Joel to continue rubbing your clit. You’ve been so turned on this whole time it won’t take long for you to come.
Joel leans down and whispers into your ear. “You should quit your job and become a professional cocksucker.” His finger continues circling your bud, bringing you close to orgasm. “At least you’re actually good at that.”
You grab a fistful of Joel’s undershirt as the feeling in your core builds. Just as your body begins to tense, just as you finally get to come, Joel removes his hand from between your legs, your release denied.
You whine. You actually whine and watch him as he picks up his shirt and jacket. Joel smiles as he looks at you, arousal and confusion etched into your face.
“Did you forget this was a punishment?” he asks, draping his ruined jacket over his shoulder. “Do not touch yourself. You are not allowed to come. Put your uniform back on and learn how to carry a tray.”
Joel wraps his fingers around the doorknob and begins to head back out. You need to stop him, you need him to know you’ve never felt as sexy as you did in this small bathroom.
“Wait, Mr. Miller,” you say, not even sure what your next words will be.
Joel stops and looks over your naked body once more.
“Go the rest of the night without incident,” Joel says as his eyes linger on your lips, “be perfect and I might shove my cock into your wet pussy as a reward.”
You simply nod to acknowledge what he’s said.
If he wants perfection, you think as you plan how to work the rest of the night at Joel’s standards, I will give him perfection.
#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal smut#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller one shot#chantersboardwritessometimes
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cellular sentiment | ceedee lamb ꨄ v
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/962c5db3ea886da888b44635618840bd/f3f3d1107bb9d4ea-ed/s540x810/c3c6bae5101e6b87f5287ef2819d1094808d12ca.jpg)
"i need you."
be there soon baby get ready'
your heart raced as you realized what was happening. you had been sitting in your car for five minutes since you had got off the phone and watched as cedarians location began to move rapidly in your direction. the response was one you could only hope would happen so why did you feel so anxious- so nervous.
you finally took heed to his message and got out of your car rushing inside as the rain pattered against your jacket. you hurriedly unlock the door sighing as you are inside and safe from the elements. you feel a deep sense of comfort in being home but that does nothing to keep the nervousness cedarians arrival at bay.
kicking off your shoes you beeline to your bathroom turning on the shower and tossing your clothes aside. a moan escapes your lips as you step in and the warm water floods your body. it feels good as it rushes down your bosom and onto your stomach. It was always a sensation that was welcomed after a long day and in your case an even longer week. you let the water wash away all of the worries that it can as you begin to cleanse yourself. you decide that the occasion warrants an everything shower. you double cleanse, exfoliate layering vanilla scents on top of one another. you silently thank yourself for getting your waxes this week as you only have to shave your legs.
by the time you finish you had honestly forgotten about the fact that you were doing this for a visit from cee so as you sat on the bed and say that his location said he was sixteen minutes away you got the rush all over again yet this time it went directly to your center. you rub your thighs together and proceed to lotion yourself down locking in the moisture with body oil.
you sit on the bed taking a moment to take deep breaths. you try not to let your mind wonder to much, but the effort is in vain.
what if put all my weight on him and hurt him. oh my God what if he see's me naked and doesn't get hard.
you do your best to push the negativity out remembering his words for earlier and the constant reassurance he had given you.
he feels the same as I do- or at least that's what he says. he probably lying, he just wants to let me down in person.
the excitement of the occasion begins to fade as quickly as it came and dread filled the though of his arrival. you took of the robe you had and layed back on the bed crawling underneath the covers pulling them above your head.
you felt tears begin to stream down your cheeks and you squeezed your eyes shut. you just wanted to go to sleep.
i should have never answered that call, im just continuing to set myself up to be hurt.
you sighed as you got up throwing the covers from your body and slipped back into your robe marching to the front door to lock it feeling bad that he would come all this way for well nothing but you couldnt face him.
as you go to lock the door you feel it begin to push open and you panic putting all your weight on it and forcing it closed.
"what the fuck- baby its me let me in." you hear him call from the other side of the door.
"no-im sorry i shouldnt have told you to come." you say voice faltering off tears still streaming down your face.
"man what? just let me in we can talk in there its raining hard as fuck." he said annoyance evident in his voice.
"cedarian i cant d-" he pushes on the door and sends you tumbling back. you lock eyes with him and the tears begin to fall harder.
"baby whats wrong?" he says rushing towards you. his voice is soft as he wraps his arms around you.
you sob at the touch- the last time you had felt another human was sunday when he was here and it just made you realize how starved you were for physicality.
"talk to me please." he says burying his head in your hair.
"i cant do this cee." you choke.
"thats fine we dont have to do anything." he coos rocking back and forth.
"no cee i cant so this. me and you."
you feel his body stiffen and you quickly add, "its me cee it not you. it just feels too good to be true and i cant wrap my head around the fact that you really want me." you say head still in his chest.
"well let me show you that i really do." with one fluid motion he scoops you up and goes to your bedroom, gently placing you on the bed and he crawls on top of you.
anticipation swells in you as removes his shirt. tears are still flowing as he leans down into you the moment feeling like an eternity as he finally places his lips against yours.
this kiss is soft, unsure even you can tell he's trying to be careful and your appreciative but you still crave more. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer into you hoping that he takes the hint. unfortunately he does not and he pulls away momentarily eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation but there is none.
this time he's more forceful making the moment all the more passionate. his hips begin to teasingly rut against your center and the all the uncertainty you had began to wear away.
a moan escapes you lips and flows between his as his skilled fingers go down and slip between your already slick fold massaging your now throbbing clit. you arch into his touch squeezing your eyes shut as he continues to massage your center and places kisses on your temple.
you whine as you bite back a moan when he finally slips a finger past your entrance.
"dont hold back mama let me hear you." he says voice heavy in your ear.
a soft moan escapes when he begins to thrust his fingers deeper. your toes curl at the sensation and you cant help but yearn for more. you slowly rock your hips to match the rhythm he was creating allowing ecstasy to swell within you.
"can we take this off?" he finally whispers tugging at your robe with his free hand, his lips peppering kisses along your neck.
you tense up and he senses it, "we dont have to mama, you can keep it on if it makes you comfortable."
"no, no we can take it off." you say voice barely above a whisper. he looks into your eyes for any hesitation but when he realizes there is none he makes quick work of maneuvering you out of the garment.
his motion pauses as he gazes down at your body eyes drinking you in and his lip goes between his teeth.
"fuck your perfect." he mumbles fingers sliding out of your sex and up your stomach to grip your breast. his other hand slips beneath the waistband of his sweat pants and you are able to see him stroking himself through the fabric. you probably would have felt extremely self conscious had not been for his reaction.
he bends down lips attaching themselves to your nipples as he twirls his tongue around the hardened flesh. a gentle nibble earns a sharp cry from you and you tangle your hands into his locs keeping his position locked. his large hand continues to play with the other one being sure that they were equally stimulated. he continues to nip, lick and suck on you until you had become a moaning needy mess rutting your hips agains the fabric of his sweats for any hope of a release.
he swiftly flips positions so you are now on his lap. his hands move you grab your ass earning yet another moan from you. you take the initiative to be the one to urge the kiss this time eagerly taking his bottom lip between your own.
his groans as you grind down on his length do nothing to help the aching at your center and you begin to whine, "can you take it out please- i need to feel you on me."
he obliges shuffling his pants off as you sit back on the bed. a blush washes over your face at the sheer size of him.
he was not playing when he said that toy wasnt prepping you for him.
he grins at your reaction, "come on, i know you wanna feel it in you."
you crawl back on top of him eyes fluttering shut as he grinds it up against your clit, your juices coating it.
his lips find yours once more and he continues sliding himself between your folds the feeling sending shivers down your spine.
you shift against him and your eyes shoot open as his tip inside of you.
"fuck." he groans wrapping his arms around your waist pulling you closer. "you ready?"
you cant even form words so you moan in approval. he slowly thrusts up into you and you peer down to see that he has his eyes squeezed shut. this in addition to the pleasure of him filling you makes everything that much better.
he halts as he bottoms out and you can feel his pubes as you grind down on him.
"fuck baby hollon, pussy too tight" he huffs into your chest, voice raspier than usual.
you whine at the request itching to be fucked silly. all insecurities were long gone and you finally realized that everything you wanted was here and you were not willing to let that slip away.
before he could give you the ok you began to bounce, his length stimulating all the right nerves as you did so.
"fuck cee, i love this shit." you cry tilting your head back. his hand comes up and caresses your back and pulls you to him until your chest is flush against his. he begins to thrust upwards allowing a natural rhythm to take over as the two of you revel in the passion.
"see baby, this is how you deserve to be treated. your body deserves to be loved. you deserve only the best." he groans as your walls flutter at his words of reassurance.
"you need a man who knows how please you. how to make you moan, " he grunts slamming into you earning a loud moan in response.
" and cry" he growls taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking on it hard. you cry out as you feel yourself begin to feel your climax nearing.
"and most important you need a man who can make you cum.
he flips you over once again so you are now in missionary and he continues his assault on your g-spot. you claw at the art work on his back feelings of pleasure like you had never felt before washed over you. head tipped back, toes curling, eyes fluttering back into your skull you feel your body to go limp as you squirt on his length.
"ouu thats it baby squirt on this dick, let it all out mama just like that fuck." he talks you through your orgasm. "feels good dont it, a real man taking care of you- making love to you."
your mouth is agape but no words can form as he continues to brutalize your overstimulated pussy and you can tell he's chasing his own release. thrust sporadic, voice low and words lewd.
"i been waiting for this- fuck i needed this baby i needed you i fucking needed you so bad. this tight ass pussy, yo juicy tiddies, those big pretty eyes looking up at me fuck im finna nut all in you." he groans slamming into you once more hips bared against yours as he spills his seed inside you, dick jumping as it did so.
he falls on top of you all his body weight adding a feeling of comfort. your eyes are still shut and you try to process what exactly just happened but the feeling of bliss wont let that happen, so there you lay giddy as can be.
you glance down at cee and he is looking up at a wide grin plastered across his face.
"youre beautiful." he mumbles reaching up and planting a kiss on your lips.
you blush at the compliment and turn away, "thank you"
he laughs hand gripping your cheeks and forces you to look at him, "dont be shy now, i done seen it all."
you roll your eyes and he pushes himself up and struts into the bathroom, you hear the shower come on. he struts back out with a towel and wipes you down being gentle not to overstimulate your sex as he cleanses it. your eyes drift close as he does so- his touch so light its relaxing. you feel yourself being lifted and suddenly youre underneath the warm water.
"its ok baby you can sleep, ima take care of you." he mumbles placing a kiss atop your head and you smile.
so this is princess treatment.
ahhh an update finally 😁😁
#fanfic#smut#ceedee lamb#ceedee lamb x reader#plus size reader#black reader#nfl#tee higgins#joe burrow#jalen hurts
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I've had a revelation
I have a plot idea and I'm gonna attempt (key word attempt) to write it out. I HAVE NEVER WRITTEN FAN FICTION but the fan fics just ain't hitting right no more so it it goes. Please let me know if it's decent
Plot: you get zapped into supernatural the same way Dean and Sam got zapped into Scooby do. (You also have a massive crush on Castiel)
You arrive home after a long day working as a nurse, you hated that job. People always treated you like you were worthless whether that was doctors, patients or other nurses. You were planning on quitting your job for weeks now but you couldn't seem to find the courage.
You stepped into your grungy one bedroom apartment and kicked your shoes off. The apartment wasn't great but it was your home. You sighed and couldn't wait to just lay in bed and turn on your favorite show. Not bothering to take off your scrubs you plopped down on your bed and turned on the TV.
As you clicked play you noticed a weird purple light in the background of the TV. "No fucking way"
You immediately stood up and stepped close, tilting your head with a confused and almost curious expression. You reached your hand out touching the light before everything went black for a moment.
You opened your eyes after what felt like an eternity and looked around assessing your surroundings. 'what the hell is going on' you thought to yourself. You were smack dab in the middle of the forest late at night. You were never one for nature and to be here at night freaked you out even more.
Standing up you dusted off your scrubs and looked around before three men came running in your direction...with guns pointed at you?
"who the hell are you?!" The shorter one yelled out with a tone that was anything but friendly. It took you a moment but you recognized all three of them. You stood frozen before your jaw dropped to the floor.
"no..fucking way" you spoke, stunned at what was currently your state of life right now. Of course you loved supernatural but to be in the show, hell that was terrifying.
"answer the damn question!" Dean barked causing Castiel to put a hand on his shoulder and Sam to turn to him.
"Dean I'm pretty sure she's just..human" Sam spoke
"a human doesn't just appear out if thin air Sam!" Dean snapped.
"No no he's right, I am human, test me! Splash me with holy water and cut me with silver if you have to but you guys have to listen to me" you spoke frantically, you didn't want to end up dead here, well maybe it would've been better than back home, at least here you knew what happened afterwards.
"how do you know-?" Castiel started and was almost immediately cut off by Dean
"because she's a monster that's how!"
"Dean, let's just test her" Sam spoke as he dug into the duffle bag he had around his shoulder. He pulled out a flask and a silver knife and walked over to you. He splashed a bit of holy water over your face.
"Jesus, a bit dramatic are we?" You wiped the water off of your face and held your arm out as Sam slid the knife across.
"see? I'm human!, but I need you three to listen to me" you spoke trying to get to your point before the real monsters showed up.
"we're listening" Castiel spoke, you always loved Cas, his gruffy voice made something in your stomach drop. Hearing him in person wow you could barely stop the heat from rising to your face. Sure Misha Collins was hot but Castiel? Castiel who thought he was real? You were almost fangirling in your own head.
"this is going to sound insane" you started off, mentally preparing yourself. "Remember that time all three of you were zapped into Scooby Doo because of some haunted TV? I'm pretty sure that just happened to me..oh and yeah you guys are a show, sorta like how you guys are also books"
Dean stood there debating on whether or not to believe you. Meanwhile Castiel was trying to find some sort of sign of lying and Sam's jaw was practically on the floor.
"and how exactly did you know that happened?" Sam spoke first.
"your lives, your story, everything that's ever happened to you guys is in a TV show called supernatural" you stood there awkwardly and tried to find anything that would prove it. You dug around in your pockets before pulling out an air freshener with Sam's face on a strawberry.
"see? Merch!"
"is that..?" Sam spoke
"dude you're a freaking fruit" Dean laughed
"oh no I have one of you too Dean" you pulled out another one with Dean on a banana
"guys were getting distracted" Castiel butted in.
"right" you spoke, "I need help getting home"
Authors note
PLEASE LMK IF I DID GOOD AND ILL CONTINUE THE STORY eventually it'll lead to Castiel x reader stuff if that's what you guys want. I literally came up with this plot last night before I fell asleep and I haven't been able to find good fanfiction in a MINUTE so it's up to me now. Let me know if it's worth continuing
#castiel fanfiction#supernatural#castiel x reader#dean winchester#spn#spn fanfic#castiel#sam winchester#spn x you#spn x reader#dean x reader
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⸝⸝ x fem reader
‹‘ 🐚 ’›— humble BEAST!ZAI pt. 1
—Placed against the luxurious antique chair hitting your back snuggled comfortably its arranged of small garnet cushions, the climaxed view of day slowly coming to an end itself and musing to the darling beauty of stroking sunset... You and Dazai clink each other's fine glasses of aged wine. Tilting then taking sips from the rich exquisite liquid. Expensive to the taste. "This is a good brand." Musing, you check the bottle's label once more in a small daze. You slowly succumbed to the drugging felt of alcohol somewhat immediately.
"Isn't it?" You turn your head back at the view of Dazai. Him raising his glass to yours in cheers, "And what are we toasting to now?" A chuckle left your throat without much of your own notice... Albeit curious alone to how he just seemingly does this by usual without explanation. Dazai held tight an expressionless face, remaining the same with just that soft, gentle smile. "To the Stray Dogs." Dazai proposes. Lost in your eyes right before you've repeated those exact words. Clanking glasses. "...To the Stray Dogs!" He hears your voice to rejoice, how you'd always sound so profound in such insignificant toasts. Maybe you never minded it. Maybe you never had the nerve to question.
But it had Dazai thinking, almost. While having all of these... Lavish items to be drowned in is undeniably idealized—usually it didn't felt too right on his end. But he watches you finish your drink with comfort, contentment.
He were to ask— "Are you satisfied?" Albeit, sounding way too sudden and thus out of nowhere. You glancing to Dazai's direction with a now half-empty glass. "...Having this, all of these, I mean?" Gesturing around the grand, exquisite style of his office spoke little standards in regards considering you two have a house in much better condition. You nod anyway.
"It can be... Too much, sometimes, but I am fine with everything you provide for us, Osamu." A smiles graces your lips. "As to some extent, the mafia still scares me. If i can be honest."
Right. Port Mafia is the main reason why you've been staying with Dazai up until marriage; the explanation as to why everything you have now is what you receive—and... Port Mafia heavily shaping your lives as to what it sees fit. Dazai himself couldn't even do much to it. But, if it weren't for the Mafia, then there wouldn't be a way for you two to stay together any longer. If it weren't for the Mafia, you wouldn't have experienced any of these with the love of your life—Osamu Dazai. And...
"...If it weren't for the mafia, perhaps we'd spend the time together picking fresh fruits in Tsugaru."
‹‘ ☄️ ’›— memories
—The large bodiless black ink that is the night sky always seemed to lull the world into a vulnerable pit. Coating the lands in darkness, under the faint audience of stars watching over both you—Dazai Osamu—and perhaps even thousands other lovers who've stayed awake with their own reasons. But isn't that scary to think that somehow, somewhere, there'd be another pair of two just deeply in love as you are your beloved detective? Chances even with how there may be people who've felt—experienced the same few things you had with him? A lovely date by the lakeside, open viewing at the countless of ports, or even doing the most mundane tasks of them all. Failing to catch your trains, relaxing together amidst the climax of a hard day at work? Come to think of it, you didn't even realized that you've really done that much with Dazai already. To think that all of this started so simply at first... You toss your own body to your side of the bed away from Dazai's, lean further to the looser spot of your pillow—It's difficult to process.
Dazai stares—an empty and unreadable look to his face. But it wasn't concern, disappointment, or plain curiosity. He just looks at you so silently, calling your name after a short moment shared with quietness. "...Hey." He inches closer, reaching to tug your body just slightly nearer to his. "What are you thinking?" Except you brushed aside Dazai's words, almost unwilling, for a moment. Until you muttered, "It isn't important."
"It seems important," He presses on "Or do you prefer to not talk about it with me? I'm offended." He says despite the carefree expression occupying his face at the moment... You could feel his arms wrapped around your body so soon as you shook your head in response. "No, no. It's... Not like that," You weren't so certain in... How to put it to Dazai. You'll tell him that, oh—'a lot happened' and you're thinking of it? As lackluster as last-minute submitted assignments.
"It baffles me to how it's already been, like, what? Months?" You drawl. Fingers reach out to the spontaneous stars sleeping in the space above. "Since we started to date a while back. It felt like years!"
Dazai pinches your cheek, "Hey now—you're saying that as of you wouldn't want it to end up feeling like a decade in our relationship." A feign look of grimace and disappointment bursts into a disappearance a moment's after. "But you knew what I meant." Followed after so playfully, you'd tap his cheek. "It's wild to come and realized that we've technically been together for some time now, Osamu." He nods with a sparkling grin. Unbelievable, isn't it? Maybe it calls for celebration.
But Dazai simply, meekly, inaudibly, stares to your form.
No tricks, no mischievous glints in those burnt brown eyes, nothing to plan.
"...I loved every moment of it, I'm sure it's obvious." He eventually tells you in one tiny purr. The days spent in mindless chaos, or occasionally laze beneath exhaustion. Shall it become something special, lovely? Or can the minutes be less than nothing but appreciation in those hands? You and him... Dazai made sure to sincere the affection, affirmations, and promises securely to his heart and blood until he learns to live.
...It'll last forever, little did you know. Dazai already studied how to feel alive. After making you his... and you made him yours.
16/18 for my valentine's special masterlist -— daily clicks
@emyyy007, @emmzai, @adventurinea, @moomuzan, @skibididazai, @iams0up
#my post#—; unclassified scenarios.#2024/12/28#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bsd dazai osamu x reader#dazai osamu x reader#dazai x reader#dazai x fem reader#dazai x y/n#dazai x yn#dazai x you
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house and you as pill/smoke buddies is on my brain rn mhmmm...
it probably starts when he catches you on the roof, blunt in hand, sighing into the void. your lab coat is abandoned on the sill. hard day at the hospital, child patient. couldn't save them. you know this is a high stress job, emotionally draining and you've never been good at coping. so there you are. some diazepam you swallowed down thirty minutes prior already in your system. must've kicked in already. house see's you and he's instantly intrigued by the arch of your back and the curve of your hips. perfect in those tight pencil skirts you wear. he doesn't know you but he's dying to figure out.
"i think you've stolen my spot." he clambers up to you. he's surprised you hadn't turned when you heard the cane. were you so deep in thought? you turn to look at him. register him. disheveled looking older man, 5 o'clock shadow, piercing blue eyes... and so you're type. you try to recall who he is. definitely a physician from the absence of a lab coat. is this the infamous...
"dr. house," he states. obviously the speed of your reaction, or lack thereof had intrigued him. your pupils were dilated and your breathing was irregular... though you might attribute that to present company "and you should not be this high while still in the hospital."
you breathe out the smoke you inhaled with a slight smirk. it makes him smirk too. you turn your back to the view and face him and subsequently eye his frame. he returns the favor, a lot less suggestively then you were. but of course he can't hold you to it, the way your eyes flutter is mostly because of the weed. heavy, intoxicating eyes. something tells you he doesn't mind it.
"don't tell. i'll leave in a minute and you can have your space back" you say.
"i said you stole my spot... who says you have to give it back?"
you smile and scoot over, tilting your head slightly gesturing him to join you. he pops two vicodin innocuously but you notice.
"damn, you swallow your pills dry? you're a sociopath" you giggle.
"i thought you as a doctor would be careful throwing around serious medical terms like that" he says, feigning an accusation. there's something about the intensity of eye contact you're holding. you've just met the guy and there's wayyy too much sexual tension in the air.
"not in the psychiatric department so no one can hold me to it," you say, blowing smoke in another direction. some part of house wanted you to blow the smoke right at him, not breaking the mutual eyefucking going on at the moment.
"how else did you get the lorazepam you've taken?" he asks, a sly tone like he has you all figured out. this was just a question to get you to spill the beans about your department. god you made him so curious. rarely had he seen a hot young doctor brazenly smoking after, presumably, taking a little something something. one so open to converse with an old man whose in her business.
you chuckle at his self assuredness.
"wanna take another guess?"
house uses this to shamelessly eye you. you're well put together, great sense of fashion. nice proportions. your body, not the outfits... he'd prefer you without them surely. no tremor. no injury, so no usual pain medication. you let out a heavy sigh and house darts his eyes towards your chest. great rack, he thinks, almost like he's going to put it in this mental patient report he's creating.
"hmmm, haloperidol? you don't strike me as the psychosis type though... valium wouldn't give you selective hearing. diazepam?"
"you know your anxiety medication, doc," you smile. he sighs abashedly. god he's hot. something about that rasp in his voice, good god, paired with the vanity radiating off his skin... it does something to you. you finally introduce yourself, partially because you need him to call you by your name in the same raspy, smug tone.
"pediatric pulmonology..." he puts a hand to his chin, scratching his stubble as if contemplating something serious, "it's always the childcare specialists trying to overdose on the hospital terrace. dont blame you, if i had to deal with those parasites i'd want to kill myself too."
you shoot him a look. your sure you dont need to tell him the stakes of the job, the weight on your soul when a child with an obvious chronic and fatal condition comes into intensive care. the cruel hand fate plays on a mere baby. "kids are a product of their environment." you put plainly. you look away into the distance. "and i'm not trying to kill myself. not yet anyway." he stops prodding, obviously he's ticked you in some way.
"are you trying to kill yourself? doctor house?" you stare at him now, and then move your eyes to the almost empty bottle of vicodin.
"oh, i'm an addict. an addict whose due for a refill." he puts the bottle at eye level, as if examining a test tube. you can't help but give a defeated smile at his bluntness. you stare off into space again. a hollow silence follows. you don't dare look at house once.
"you mind if i take a hit"
his question catches you off guard. there's an earnest in his blue eyes. almost as if involuntarily, almost hypnotized, you hand him the joint. your fingers brush as if on purpose. your breath hitches again. and house notices, coloring his eyes a different shade of vain. he puts the blunt to his lips, your eyes follow his every move with heed. the pink of his lips soon emit the familiar smoke. he looks you right in the eyes as he blows it onto your face. you bask in the smoke letting it cloud you. cloud your judgement for a split second as you lean forward. for a kiss? maybe but
house puts the blunt to your lips this time, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip. you look up at him through your lashes, eyes blown out wide. he's so tall, even with his cane. he lets you intake the smoke for a second longer than you like, maintaining the intense gaze on you. there's a kick in your stomach. maybe it's something. maybe it's nothing. maybe you're just high. but you swear you've never been wetter.
#aniya writes ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა#this got long....#house md#gregory house x you#gregory house smut#gregory house x reader#gregory house#house md x you#house md x reader#hatecrimes md#malpractice md#oh i'm the trenches#house md ૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა
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Jury’s Still Out - footballer x sports reporter
The wind swept through the empty stadium, carrying the crisp bite of late autumn as Taylor Rooks stepped onto the field. She immediately lifted a hand to shield her freshly straightened hair, her long strands whipping against her face despite her efforts. A Brazilian blowout wasn’t cheap, and she wasn’t about to let Cincinnati’s unpredictable weather ruin it before her segment even started.
Dressed in a sleek coat and knee-high boots, she walked with purpose, her eyes scanning the field until they landed on him. Joe Burrow was out there alone, save for a trainer watching from a few yards away. He moved carefully, testing his knee with light footwork drills, the kind meant to ease him back into action. Even in the simple motions, there was something undeniably sharp about him—focused, determined, the same guy who turned pressure into poetry on the field.
Taylor exhaled, shaking her head slightly as she stepped closer. She had interviewed him before, had seen the intensity in his eyes when he talked about the game, but this was different. This wasn’t post-game adrenaline or locker-room bravado. This was a man fighting his way back from injury, alone in the cold, with nothing but the sound of the wind and the weight of expectation pressing down on him.
A gust sent her coat flaring behind her, and she instinctively reached up to hold her hair in place again. That was when Joe finally noticed her. He slowed to a stop, his breath visible in the chilled air as he looked her way. A small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Didn’t think I’d see you out here,” he called, his voice carrying across the field. “Braving the wind for me?”
Taylor let out a laugh, shaking her head. “Braving the wind for my job,” she corrected, though the teasing glint in her eyes said otherwise.
Joe tilted his head slightly, his gaze lingering. “I don’t know,” he said, wiping his hand over his sleeve. “Feels like you’re putting up more of a fight against the weather than I am against rehab.”
Taylor arched a brow. “And who’s winning?”
His smirk deepened. “Jury’s still out.”
Taylor glanced around the field, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as the wind settled for a brief moment. The place was eerily quiet, the usual sounds of practice—whistles, laughter, the heavy thud of cleats—conspicuously absent.
“No teammates out here today?” she asked, her gaze drifting toward the empty sidelines.
Joe took a slow breath, adjusting the sleeve of his hoodie. “They’ve already left,” he said casually, like it was no big deal.
Taylor’s brows lifted. “So why are you still out here?”
He gave a half-shrug, glancing down at his knee as he flexed it slightly. “Wanted to get some extra work in.”
Something about the way he said it made Taylor study him a little closer. There was no arrogance in his tone, no need to explain himself—it was just who he was. The guy who stayed behind when everyone else went home.
She hummed, slipping her hand into her coat pocket. “And how’s the knee holding up?”
Joe exhaled through his nose, shifting his weight onto his injured leg as if testing it again. “Better,” he admitted. “Some days are still rough, but I’m moving the way I want to again. Just gotta be patient.”
Taylor nodded, reaching into her other pocket and pulling out her recorder. The moment she clicked it on, Joe hesitated, his eyes flickering to the device.
“The interview,” he said, more to himself than to her.
She gave him a knowing look. “That a problem?”
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Nah,” he said, rolling his shoulders. “Can we walk and talk?”
Taylor gestured toward the field. “Lead the way.”
Joe started moving at a slow, steady pace, and Taylor fell in beside him, her recorder pointed in his direction. The wind had settled, but the cold still lingered, and as they walked the length of the field, it was just the two of them, his voice low and thoughtful as he spoke about his recovery.
As they walked along the edge of the field, Taylor kept her gaze steady on Joe, watching the way he moved—controlled, deliberate, but still careful. The weight of what he’d been through was there, even if he wouldn’t outright say it.
She let a beat pass before asking, “How do you make a comeback after an injury like this?”
Joe exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw as he thought it over. “You don’t think about the comeback,” he said finally. “Not at first. At first, you just think about the next step. Then the next one after that.”
Taylor nodded, her recorder steady in her hand. “And when does it shift? When do you start thinking about the bigger picture?”
Joe glanced ahead, eyes narrowing slightly against the breeze. “When you stop feeling like you’re rehabbing and start feeling like you’re playing again,” he said. “It’s a mental thing. You have to trust your body, trust that all the work you put in means you can move the way you used to. Maybe even better.”
Taylor studied him, intrigued. “So, is that where you are now? Do you trust it?”
Joe hesitated, just for a second, then met her eyes with a small, knowing smirk. “Jury’s still out.”
Taylor huffed a laugh, shaking her head. “You love saying that, don’t you?”
He grinned. “Keeps things interesting.”
Taylor let his words settle before shifting her recorder slightly. “Alright,” she said, tilting her head. “Then how do you keep yourself motivated? Rehab isn’t exactly glamorous.”
Joe let out a quiet chuckle, his gaze fixed ahead as they walked. “No, it’s not,” he admitted. “Some days, it’s frustrating as hell. Feels like you’re working twice as hard just to get back to where you were before.”
Taylor studied him, catching the brief flicker of something deeper in his expression. “So what keeps you going?”
Joe exhaled, thoughtful. “I remember what it felt like to play free. To not think about my knee, not second-guess every move. That’s what I’m chasing.” He glanced at her then, his voice steady. “I know I can get back there. That’s enough.”
Taylor nodded, letting a small pause stretch between them. “You ever have moments where you doubt it?”
Joe hesitated just for a second, then said, “Yeah. But doubt doesn’t do anything for me.” He shrugged slightly. “So I keep going.”
Taylor considered his words, impressed by the quiet certainty in them. She didn’t press further—he had already said everything that mattered.
She looked away from him, pulling a small notebook from her coat pocket and jotting down a few notes. The recorder had caught his words, but sometimes it helped to write things down—little observations, details she might want to come back to later.
Joe watched her, his gaze steady as she scribbled something onto the page. After a beat, he tilted his head slightly and asked, “So, did you plan on interviewing me today, or were you just hoping to catch whoever was still out here?”
Taylor glanced up, catching the teasing glint in his eyes. She decided to play along, tapping her pen lightly against the notebook. “Well,” she said, drawing out the word, “I was hanging around outside the locker room, but Tee was my first choice. He was just faster getting out of here.”
Joe let out a laugh, shaking his head. “Figures,” he muttered, still amused. Without another word, he lowered himself onto the grass, stretching his legs out in front of him.
Taylor arched a brow. “Getting comfortable?”
Joe leaned back on his hands, smirking. “Might as well. No rush, right?”
Taylor glanced down at him, the corners of her mouth twitching. “No rush,” she echoed, tapping her pen lightly against her notebook.
Joe patted the grass beside him. “Then sit.”
She eyed the spot warily. “I’m fine standing. Not really trying to get my pants dirty.”
Joe smirked, tilting his head. “If you sit, I’ll give you the inside scoop on why Ja’Marr got evicted.”
Taylor’s eyes widened slightly, her curiosity flaring. “You’re lying,” she accused, narrowing her gaze.
Joe just leaned back, looking entirely unbothered. “Guess you’ll never know.”
Without hesitation, Taylor dropped down beside him, crossing her legs as she hit record again. “Start talking.”
Joe raised a brow, glancing at her with an amused expression. “Is this interview supposed to be about me or every other teammate on the roster?”
Taylor pressed her lips together, then straightened up, putting on her most professional voice. “You’re right. My apologies, Joe. This interview is solely about you, your greatness, and your heroic return to the field.”
Joe laughed, shaking his head. “Relax, I’m joking.” Then, with a small smirk, he added, “I’m just not great with sarcasm.”
Taylor gave him a pointed look. “That’s a shame. It’s a major part of my personality.”
Joe shrugged. “Guess I’ll have to keep up.”
Taylor shook her head slightly, as if resetting her focus. “I’m gonna have to cut this recording up,” she muttered, making a quick note in her notebook before glancing back at Joe.
He smirked. “Can’t have me rambling about Ja’Marr’s eviction making the final cut?”
She gave him a look but didn’t take the bait. Instead, she clicked the recorder back on and asked, “Alright, what’s your relationship with your receivers like?”
Joe’s smirk faded into something more thoughtful. He stretched his legs out, resting his arms on his knees. “It’s all about trust,” he said. “You spend enough time with them, and you start to understand how they move, how they think. A good quarterback-wide receiver connection isn’t just about talent—it’s about knowing, without hesitation, where they’ll be and when they’ll be there.”
Taylor nodded, intrigued. “And how do you build that?”
Joe glanced at her, a knowing look in his eyes. “Reps. A lot of them.”
“That’s why you want to get back out there so quickly,” Taylor murmured, more to herself than to him, her voice thoughtful.
Joe ran a hand through his tousled hair, nodding. “Of course,” he said, exhaling. “Being injured… it can feel isolating. You’re still part of the team, but not really. You’re on the sidelines, watching everyone else put in the work, and it just—” He paused, his jaw tightening slightly. “It feels like you’re not doing enough.”
Taylor studied him, the weight behind his words settling in. She knew that for a guy like him, someone who prided himself on his leadership and presence on the field, being forced to step back must’ve been frustrating.
“You have to make sure you’re good first,” she said, her voice softer now. “Your teammates understand that.”
Joe turned his head to look at her, his expression shifting. After a beat, he smiled—small, but real. “Yeah,” he said. “I know.”
A comfortable silence fell between them as he watched her jot notes down and the wind picked up again slightly, blowing a few strands of her hair into her face and sticking to her lip gloss. Taylor sighed before pushing her hair back.
“Can I?”
Taylor turned over to see Joe moving over closer to her to smooth her hair out. “It looks bad?”
“A few fly aways that’s all, you look beautiful…as always.” Even after saying that he kept his eye contact with her before she broke it, going back to trying to write but only coming up with a few random letters to make it look like she was writing.
“How long are we going to keep doing this, Taylor?”
That was the question that made her pen stop, “Doing what? The interview? We can stop it early and meet another day-“ She shut her notebook and cut off the recorder and by the time she looked up at him his eyes were already on her.
“You know what I’m talking about.” His voice was rough and he cleared his throat, “now that you got that recorder off let’s talk about us.”
Taylor shook her head and stood, “Joe.”
“Taylor please.”
#joe burrow#taylor rooks#fanfic#football#sports#reporter#second chance romance#sports reporter#quarterback
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Aren't Joltiks Just the Cutest?
Author’s note: It’s time to partyyyy!!! This is my first fic for the Hear Me Out Cake event hosted by @tickly-trashcan, and I was so happy when I saw that @a-fluffer-nutter requested Ingo! I’m absolutely hearing you out! I’m taking a page from tickly-trashcan and pairing the characters with cakes, so Ingo and Emmet get a Cookies and Cream / Oreo cake. (Here’s the link to the cake recipe where I found the image, Lol). I hope you enjoy!
Series: Pokemon
Characters: Ingo, Emmet, Joltik, and Excadrill
Word count: 1,503
Summary: Emmet wants to show Ingo that Joltiks are the most adorable Pokemon. In order to do so, Emmet thinks that Ingo and the Joltiks should spend some play time together!
---
After being brothers with his polar opposite for so long, Ingo is used to being able to quietly focus while Emmet causes a racket in the same room. As Ingo sits peacefully reading a book on the couch with Excadrill napping by his side, Emmet sits in the middle of the floor, training eight joltiks to do tricks.
Emmet cheers in the background. “Ingo, look!” Emmet rushes over to his brother. A joltik is sitting in his cupped hands. “Joltik just did a flip! Watch!”
Ingo pulls his eyes away from his story to see the little creature. As if on cue, the joltik hops up and does a flip, almost like a toy.
“See?” Emmet exclaims.
“Wow, very nice Emmet. And you too, Joltik,” Ingo congratulates both pokemon and partner.
“I know, right?” Emmet brings the joltik to his face, then nuzzles the tiny creature, “Aren’t joltiks just the cutest?”
“Well, I don’t know about the cutest,” Ingo looks over at his napping Excadrill and gives the creature a gentle pat. Ingo would say that all his pokemon are the cutest though, truly.
Emmet narrows his eyes at his brother, taking lighthearted offense at Ingo’s words.
“Oh, really?” he lifts a brow. He turns his attention back to the tiny creature in his hand. “Well, maybe you just haven’t spent enough time with them like I have.”
“I’m sure of that,” Ingo moves his eyes from Excadrill to his book, not even sparing a moment to see Emmet’s face. If he did look though, he would have seen that Emmet’s expression had morphed itself into a scheming smile.
Emmet leans on one leg. “Theeeen, maybe you should spend some more time with them,” he glides over to Ingo. With zero warning, Emmet places the joltik on Ingo’s shoulder. Ingo whips his head in the creature’s direction when he feels the little legs, like a tiny bird’s, resting on his shoulder.
He glances up at his brother and lays his book on the table in front of him, confused. Emmet has his hands on his hips, and Ingo finally notices the calculating smirk on his lips.
“Go on, Ingo. Get to know them,” Emmet says. By this time, the little joltik has already begun making their way towards Ingo’s neck. When they reach their destination, the electric type nuzzles into the side of his neck to show their affection.
“Emmet, what point are you trying to make?” Ingo says with a joltik mid-snuggling his neck. “You know I already like joltiks.”
“Yes, but you don’t think they’re the cutest. Which is fine. Everyone is entitled to their opinion. I just thought that you could have some fun with them. You know, to hear me out.” Emmet’s tone appears standard, but his grin adds a hint of mischief to his words.
Ingo rolls his eyes. “Emmet, my opinion is not going to sway in an instant—ah!” Ingo’s sentence is suddenly cut off when he feels the little joltik climb into the collar of his shirt. Immediately, Ingo’s mouth quivers into a smile. The little joltik skitters across his torso, making joltik’s journey have ticklish repercussions for Ingo.
Emmet’s grin widens from ear to ear, experiencing joy that’s equivalent to sneaking ice down their sibling’s shirt. “Oh, did I forget to tell you that when joltiks are curious, they like to explore?”
“E-Emmet!” Ingo stutters with an underlying growl, trying to tame the feeling of laughter.
“See, you would know that if you spent more time with them,” Emmet throws another quip his way.
“Very funny,” Ingo says through gritted teeth. His body begins to curl forward. “C-Come on, joltik. Gehehet out of there,” a giggle slips.
“Hmm,” Emmet taps a finger to his chin, but he already knows full well what the next part of his plan is. “Maaaybe, playing with even more joltiks will convince you of their cuteness!”
“What?!” Ingo exclaims, but Emmet’s already scooping up his seven other joltiks in his arms and bringing them to join the party.
Ingo’s eyes grow wide. “Emmet! Wahahait!” Ingo’s giggles from the joltik’s tickles and from the anticipation spill simultaneously. Right after his pleas, Emmet gently pours the joltiks over his twin’s shoulders, and all of the little creatures wander to different places around Ingo like children exploring a new playground. Ingo scrunches his shoulders to his neck and wraps his arms around himself, already feeling the tiny creatures spider their little legs across his upper half—some even crawling into his shirt.
“Ohohohoh nohohoho!” Ingo finally bursts into laughter; his chest rumbles from his booming giggles that are loud enough for Excadrill’s ears sitting beside him. The steel and ground type pokemon blinks open their eyes. Feeling and seeing through the sleepy corner of their vision that Ingo is making sudden shifts in movement, Excadrill’s head shoots up in surprise.
He jumps to his feet, alert and worried for his trainer, “Exca!?” Finally processing the laughter and seeing the wide smile on Ingo’s face, the pokemon leans his head to the side. “Drill?”
Emmet informs the older pokemon, “Don’t worry, Excadrill. Ingo and my joltiks are just having a little playdate.”
Excadrill nods in understanding. He’s used to the twins causing some brotherly ruckus once in a while. Most of the time, Excadrill is an audience member to their shenanigans, but this time, Excadrill thinks to himself that his trainer could use some revenge for waking him up…
The dual type spots one of the joltik perched and snuggling at Ingo’s neck. “Exca! Drill-drill!” he grabs their attention.
The one joltik returns a smile with their blue eyes. “Jol! Joltik!” As soon as the interaction takes place, the joltik scurries into Ingo’s sleeve. Excadrill smirks. The larger pokemon hops off the couch and struts over to a pillow left on the floor while looking over his shoulder with a sly smile.
“Wahahait! Excadrill! Whahahat did yohohou just tehehehell them–AHA!” Ingo’s laughter jumps a hurdle once he feels the little creatures hone in around his ribs and his belly like a coordinated attack.
“YOHOHOHOU trahahaitor!!!” Ingo, who figured out the answer to his very question, yells over to Excadrill. The steel and ground type simply keeps grinning and plops himself onto the floor pillow.
Emmet looks Excadrill’s way. “Verrry nice, Excadrill. I didn’t think you had it in you,” the younger twin complements. Excadrill makes a happy grunt. Emmet then clasps his hands together and returns his attention to his brother.
“So Ingo. Now that you’ve gotten more acquainted with my joltiks, there’s another reason I want to show you why they are the cutest. Technically they can’t learn what the actual move is in battles, but I taught them a miniature version of it they can use for occasions such as this one. The move is called the most endearing and adorable name. Watch,” Emmet ends his pitch by putting on the largest smirk. He pauses for dramatic effect. “Joltik?”
“Ehehemmet!” Ingo giggles his brother’s name like he was scolding him.
“Use…”
“Ehehemmet, dohohont!” Ingo’s giggles turn more frantic, like he knows what’s coming.
“Nuzzle.”
With the command spoken, the sound of tiny electric sparks and squeaks are heard from beneath Ingo’s shirt. Ingo doesn’t even have a moment to prepare himself before a surge of electric energy zaps harmlessly, but very ticklishly, at the front of his torso, causing Ingo to explode with more of his boisterous laughter. The blast of his giggles knocks him over and onto the cushions flat on his back. He curls his knees to his chest and he rolls himself into a ball of precious giggles, still while making sure not to hurt the little joltik playing around.
“See? Isn’t that adorable?” Emmet teases. Ingo’s not sure whether or not he’s referring to the joltik or poking fun at him. Either way, Ingo surrenders.
“EHEHEMMET! Ohohohokay! OKAY! Cahahahall them OHOHOHOFF!” Ingo shouts. Satisfied, Emmet walks closer to Ingo and claps his hands.
“Okay, joltik. Playtime is over. Come on out, everyone,” Emmet says. The sound of electricity starts to silence, then joltiks begin to emerge from Ingo’s shirt. The joltiks all jump off of Ingo and into Emmet’s arms as Ingo releases his remaining giggles and regains a steady stream of air. When all eight of the electric creatures are retrieved, the pokemon crawl up and perch themselves on Emmet’s shoulders and on his head.
Emmet lends a hand to his brother to help him sit upright on the couch. Then, he takes a seat next to him.
“So, how about it? Did I convince you?” Emmet elbows his twin to let him know he’s kidding. “Although I will say, Excadrill definitely earned some cuteness points from me for helping joltik and I earlier.”
Ingo rolls his eyes at this silly competition. “How about we just call it even and say that all of our pokemon are the cutest?” Ingo flashes his brother a soft smile.
Emmet emphasizes a nod, “Now THAT is something I can agree with.”
#hear me out cake event#cakes and tickles#pokemon#pokemon black and white#submas#pokemon ingo#pokemon emmet#emmet pokemon#ingo pokemon#joltik#excadrill#pokemon fanfiction#pokemon fanfic#sfw fanfiction#sfw fanfic#sfw tickle fic#tickle fic
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"I know you do." Anna agrees, understanding even if it's not who she is. She does this sort of work for a reason; Anna's an extrovert at her core. Most comfortable talking to people; old friends or virtual strangers. It makes her feel connected, puts life's stressors in perspective. But that is her, and not him. And in the same way he encourages her to slow down, then Anna thinks it's her prerogative to fan some abundance in his life. As much as is reasonable, anyway.
"Just a little bit. Enough to have a taste of... More." Not a gratuitous amount. Anna doesn't except Aiden to become a social butterfly, with a new dinner companion or party at every turn. Instead; "Someone to talk to about how obsessed you are with me." Coy as anything, and Anna's ego isn't rich enough to think that's the only think he'd talk to a friend about. But surely gushing about a new romance is a universal thing; guy or gal, extrovert or introvert. "Or save you at parties, when Tony and I can't fight immigration."
There's a twist in her stomach, not a bad one per se. But one that touches on a raw nerve that's only just healing. She's shared those worst memories; of not being enough for the person she's with, of worrying that Aiden will wake up and come to the same conclusion. Aiden, in all his directness and observation, catches that in so many subtle words. Hears the unconscious worry that plagues her. That distance and time apart may lead to the same conclusion. "I'm not saying you aren't. I trust you." She feels the need to echo, cheek leaning against the brush of his fingers. Because her neurosis isn't his to manage, no matter how her weakest moments get the best of her. "I don't want you to worry about that."
But if the feeling of worry rises, Aiden snuffs it before it grows larger. She follows him, because where else would she go? A sharp breath in anticipation when she finally gets to be with him. Properly, without a crowd or an ocean between them. Her arms around his shoulders, head tilted just so. Usually, she'd be in heels that helped bring her closer. Instead -- Anna's in her vans, and it's that sort of natural essence that makes it just right. One hand drifting along his back, playfully squeezing the area she's surprised Petra got into couture pants.
"Have I told you how good you look?" She'll say it, again and again, brush against his lips. A small smile of joy and relief, that it is still the same even after all their time apart. "Or how much I've missed you? I'm so happy to be home." Not in this lush space, or even his posh London flat. Rather, being home with him.
“Uhm, A—” an easy laugh tumbles past his lips as he shakes his head. He’s got that funny sort of, ‘I don’t know how to tell you this’ kind of look, even though she already knows, “I like being alone.” The too far and few moments of total peace and quiet are as important to the start of his day as they are some of the most vital highlights of its end. ‘Alone’ is the anchor that keeps him grounded, even in a field that thrives on flashy, loud, and high-energy. But again, he isn’t so dense as to not understand what Anna means.
“You want me to come outta my shell some.” Not because she wants him to change who he is, necessarily, but because… Well, she’s right. “Couldn’t hurt.” A repetition, an affirmation— it makes sense when you consider that most of the new things over the past months have been positives. He’s still working on the unprecedented challenge of socks getting lost in the wash.
Other than that, it would be an understatement to say that the shifts have been noticeable. His presence right now speaks for itself. Add in the fresh lines, the perfectly-tailored suit, and the dazzling accessories, and by appearance alone he looks brand new. He kind of feels it, too. Not entirely. Just enough to admit, “It’s… It hasn’t been too bad. Tonight, I mean.” He glances out toward the crowd, far more colorful than Anna’s closet in Battersea. “Couple’a weirdos for sure, but,” if he really considers it, “that’s anywhere, I guess…” When he turns back, there’s a sharpness to his gaze that could really only mean that he has something important in mind.
“When it comes to… That,” which is a decent substitution for those three naughty letters, just in case anyone else is listening, he runs the tip of his middle finger against her temple, then around the back of her ear. “—I’m staying far away from everyone who isn’t you.” He’s pleased to add, “I got two shoulders to prove it.” Along with every other part of himself that’s wholly off-limits to anyone outside the smallest version of their little bubble.
Aiden squeezes Anna’s hand and asks, “Come with me for a sec?” The journey is just a few steps off to the side, where two well-disguised service doors stand. He moves with the same swiftness that he did back in Paris, pushing one side with his back, then leading them into a narrower space without another soul in sight. It’s the kind of place he’d visited thousands of times before, back when he’d worked any position for a living.
Now, however, he takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around her — in the way he’d really wanted to — and press their lips together. Not quite the scandal she’d asked for, yet something more meaningful: the only way he’d want to greet her after all of the time apart. Deep. Unhurried. Reminding her that he's real, that he's here, and that he's hers.
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bitch rewatch it let me help you focus: Logan's body language was (haha) in sync with Wade seconds after that first fight in the Void
#they step forward with the same foot#they turn their head the same moment the same direction#we're not gonna talk about how logan understood wade's cue without much physical or verbal tells during cassandra's lair???????#Logan attunes to Wade's body language HELLA QUICKLY it's so#stfu all his life he'd trained his physical tells and stayed in survival mode that he was SEAMLESS#FLAWLESS in analyzing wade's physical tells believe me#I'M SO UPSET LOGAN IS ACTUALLY SO STRATEGIC AND TACTICAL#AAAAAAAA#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool#wolverine#deadpool 3#logan howlett#wade wilson#poolverine#deadclaws#deadpool 2024#adamantium gays#I HATE HOW MUCH MORE INTIMATE THINGS ARE WITH PHYSICALITY
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today feels like an excellent day to embarrass myself and make bad desicions that i will definitely regret, so i will text my crush that i haven’t talked to for months, and has also told me that he is not romantically interested in me, and tell him all the ways he is lovely and gorgeous
#crying#crush#shooting my shot#he is so sweet and i’m just a scrawny crusty withered soggy witch#i love him sm💕💕💕💐💐#girlblogging#i can have a little delulu. as a treat#ok but its been like a whole year since he said he doesn’t have a crush on me and last year i also didn’t have a crush on him#and hhere i am now crushing on him. things change ok and im not quite as sad and ugly as i was a year ago#pLUS‼️‼️ i always catch him doing these rlly nervous movements around me like accidentally glancing at me the same moment i glance at him#and we accidentally make eye contanc for 0.00001 seconds and he turns his head in the other direction SO FAST#it’s one of my favorite things about him cuz he gets so shy when we near eachother and starts rapidly looking at anything that isn’t me lol#so what i’m saying is MAYBE I HAVE HALF A CHANCE NOW??!!!?!???!???!!??!?#i guess i will update if it goes well?!?!?!?!?!?!#severely touch starved and desperate for human intimacy posting#but what do i do if he rejects me????? what will i do then???? just live in shame of my delusional confidence???#BUT WHAT IF HE LIKES ME BACK????!!!! WHAT THEN?????!!?? THEN I HAVE TO MAINTAIN A RELATIONSHIP AND FACE THE FACT PEOPLE CAN SEE ME#lgbtq#bi#biromantic#ace#asexual#unrequited love#situationships#i long i yearn i crave yet i don’t dare text or sit near him or look at him for fear of being perceived#bitch got me listening to mistki laufey and pink pantheress
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Watching you
Hwang In-ho x female!reader.
Summary: In-ho sees you and his brain chemistry changes. A/N: in reader’s pov he’s referred as Young il. Sorry if it’s confusing. Warnings: Obsessive and possessive behaviour, masturbation, stalking, perverted opinions, murder, blood, kissing, mentions of arousal, mentally and physically vulnerable characters, dubious consent, non-con touching, manipulation, sadism, dacryphilia
W/c: 3,5k
It was strange that he kept his eyes on you more than anyone in the games. The moment he saw your shaking figure among the crowd of people in the green suits, he felt his breath get stuck in his throat. You were looking around with eyes that were full of fear, hands wrapped around yourself and holding back tears as others started an argument in the middle. You listened as someone complained about his shoes being so expensive, and someone asking for his phone, an old lady argue with her son and guards answering the players’s questions with patience.
He kept his eyes on you as the first game started. He saw your eyes widen when someone was shot right in front of you, and he watched you as you realise the seriousness of the game you accepted to take part in. Gi-hun was interesting to him, yes. He was searching for them, for him have been for years now. And he was brave enough to come back to the games just to find who was behind them. He respected his determination. Yet there was something about you that he could not name. Something captivating. Something that shifted things in him, made his skin sting in ecstasy as you nearly moved when the doll turned around. You looked around with those innocent eyes and blood of someone flowing down your cheek, he felt his trouser tighten. A small, tingly sensation took over his loins and made him frown in confusion. He had never taken a liking to a someone, let alone a little, fragile thing like you.
When he found the video of you playing ddajki with the recruiter, he felt himself get harder and harder as he watched you spill tears in pain every single time you received a hard slap on your cheek. The camera captured the noises you made as your body was falling backwards with every single slap. The recruiter hit you hard and In-ho wandered if you would sound the same when he pounded you hard on his bed. He took his mask off and palmed himself trough his trouser as he kept replaying the video over and over again. When he was finished spilling his seed into his palm, he wished that was your mouth wrapped around his tip instead.
When the first game finished and your number and picture still shone bright on the floor, you voted for ‘X’ and expected everyone to vote same as you. Yet you were so wrong when the last player 001 and all others voted ‘O’, causing all of you to stay in this hellhole. You felt tears fill your eyes as some people were cheering with victory in front of you. You sat down on one of the beds at the front and hugged your legs with disappointment. As you were thinking what was going to happen next, you felt someone sit next to you.
“I’m sorry, I thought staying was the best option.” Said the man who was looking at you, watching your tears flow down your flushed cheeks. You looked at his number and saw 001 in bright white font. He was the person who voted last and made the decision. You sighed and shook your head.
“It is not only you, sir. Half of us wanted to stay.” You said as you pointed at the people who had the ‘O’ banners on their right side. He did not look at the direction you were pointing at, he kept his eyes on. You were so pretty when you cried. He wandered how beautiful you would look when you were overstimulated with his fingers in you. He felt his cock twicth when you looked at him again. Your lips were plump, and the tip of your nose was red. He wandered how your tears would taste like.
“We have a winner here. I thought we could use this for our advantage.” He explained as he pointed at Gi-hun who looked very troubled not so far away from you. Your eyes were on the last winner when you felt the man beside you stand up and take few steps towards the player 456. Yet he stopped mid way and looked back at you, as if he was waiting for you to follow him. And for some reason you wiped your tears away and followed him like a lost puppy as he walked towards the previous winner of the games who was already accompanied by few guys who kept asking him questions.
And the small group was formed with two of you joining them. You did not know much about others, did not trust them meanwhile player 001 was confident and comfortable talking to them. When he sat down next to Gi-hun, his eyes pointed at the small space next to his feet, so you sat down there. Being close to him brought you a sense of safety. He was the first person who approached you in this mess of a place with kindness. You did not know him, didn’t know his name or why he was here. Yet there was a look in his eyes that made you want to stick beside him.
When everyone went to sleep, In-ho looked at your resting form. You were wrapped in the thin blanket and was curled up into a ball. He looked at your curves that were visible from the tracksuit, his mouth watered. You were so frightened and powerless. You needed someone to protect you in the games. Someone who would look after you, make sure you make it alive. He knew what humans were capable of doing in a place like this. People were going to go mad and hurt one another viciously. Would he be able to just stand and watch if you got hurt?
Your soft whimpers and cries brought him back to reality. When you woke up from your few hours of sleep drenched in sweat and tears flowing down your cheeks, he crawled to you, in the darkness of the hall. He reached out to you, from the metal bars of the beds, and held your shoulder. You squirmed in fear and was about to scream until a large hand covered your mouth.
“It’s me.” He whispered to your ear as his whole body was pressed against your back, other arm wrapped around your shoulders. He was towering over you, as you felt sweat drops make their way to your neck from your temple.
He let go of your mouth, but his touch did not leave your body when he moved to sit next to you. He was close, his breath hitting your face and neck when he looked at you with observing eyes that did not give any feelings away. His touch made your heart beat fast and quicken your breaths, yet you did not want him to stop holding you.
“Bad dream?” He whispered, his voice is low yet deep enough to make your insides shake. You nodded when tears filled your eyes again. The images of dead bodies all over the playground haunted you since the moment you came back from the game as winners. You didn’t want to cry in front of anyone, but you felt like he would not mind seeing you cry.
He nodded along with you, almost like a grown up talking to a little kid and mirror her moves to befriend her. When he saw your bottom lip tremble and eyes full of fear scan the hall of people sleeping, he felt his loins burn in need. The face you made when you were scared and felt alone was enough to make him cum in his underwear without any touch.
Without hesitation he brought your body closer to his own and his arms embraced your shaking form with mercy. You buried your face into the crook of his neck and wrapped your smaller arms around his waist. He was warm. Very warm that you felt your fingertips burn over his body. When you breathed in and out in the crook of his neck, all In-ho wanted to do was throw your body back into the bed, rip those clothes off of you and ravage you in front of dozens of people without any care. The though of fucking you, turning you into mass in front of them, giving them a show as he claimed you, sent shivers down his spine.
“I’m so scared,” you whispered, your crying voice reaching his ear as he tried to hold back a smile at your situation. You were so helpless that you were crying in the arms of the man who was the reason why you were still here. He was a stranger, who had the potential to do anything. Yet here you were, quivering against his chest and making his member throb in need.
“I’m here.” He said. And you had no chance but trusting him.
———————
The next game you were automatically given the Gong-gi game as the only female in the group. Yet your hands were shaking when it was your turns to play after player 390 completed his part successfully. When you missed two times, you were so sure you were going to die and worse, be the reason for everyone’s death in your group.
He watched you panick, drop the pebbles and fail to catch them midair. Everyone around you was getting inpatient and scared naturally. Even tho he loved the way you were struggling and feeding into his twisted desire, he could not let you die. He held your waist and stopped the trembling of your body. You looked at him under your lashes that were wet with your tears and went back to work once he gave you a reassuring smile. With that you managed to catch all the pebbles in your palm and passed the round.
It was then, you felt something was off, when it was his turn to play his own game. The top kept slipping from his hands or landed wrong on the floor that was covered in the blood of eliminated players. You wanted to step back yet could not because of the ties when he started to scream in anger and slap himself. There was a crazy, off-putting look in his eyes. It was less uncomfortable when he was looking at you, yet it was still there. His eyes made your skin crawl and stomach twist in sickness. You did feel safe around him. But not like you would feel safe with a family member, a friend, or a lover. It felt like he was a wolf who claimed a lamb, kept her on his chest and waited for right moment to eat her.
When your group managed to survive and go back to the hall, he kept to you close. His hand was on your back, leading you to your bed. When it was mealtime, he gave half of his food to you, telling you to not to worry about him when you tried to reject him. He watched you until you finished all your food. After all of you exchanged names, he watched you talk to player 388 about his time in marine and watch you laugh when he was talking excitedly, telling everyone how prideful he was about his military service. He watched your tears dry up as you listened to the conversation that was flowing in the group. Your smile made his stomach twist and his jaw clench.
Your hopes once again were shattered when people voted for “O” more than “X” and decided to continue playing the games. Young-il wiped your tears away and convinced you to get some sleep for the night. You could only relax and fall asleep when he sat next to you on your bed and caressed your head as he decided to stay awake. He looked extraordinarily strong to you. He did not need to sleep, gave his food to others, calm people down when everyone was scared, raged and pass the games like it was nothing. Most importantly, he held you close no matter what. Did not mind you cry and fail and fall. Maybe it was a sense of guilt he felt, for making you stay in the first round of voting, you thought.
——————
Next morning he held your hand when everyone was taken to the new game. It was mingle. Your group had decided to stay together. You were grateful that they had take you in and did not leave you alone. You all took your place on the platform and started to spin as the song was playing. You felt his hand get tighter around yours, reminding you that he was here with you.
10
You ran as fast as you can and took deep breaths when all 10 of you finally managed to get into a room. The sound of lock made you jump slightly. You saw Young il’s eyes on Gi-hun as he pulled you under his arm. The images of him looking at Gi-hun since the moment you met him lingered on your mind until the woman who claimed to be a shaman started to speak loudly in the middle of the room. As you waited for gunshots to stop and doors to open, you could not help but wonder the reason behind Young il’s weird behaviour about Gi-hun. He seemed to get along with him. Seemed to respect his ideas and experiences about this place. They seemed to understand one another, somehow. Yet that unexplainable look in 001 eyes was making you shift uncomfortably in your place.
Until last round, you had no chance but sticking beside Young il. As you entered rooms and people kept dying outside, you became more paranoid. And when it came to the last round, Jeong-bae asked how many people it was going to be this time. Without hesitation Young-il answered.
“2.” And it was it. When the song stopped and the platform stopped spinning, Young il held your hand tighter than before, and started to run to closest room. As you were trying to catch up with his pace, someone bumped into you, causing you to lose your balance and stumble midway. Young il turned around immediately and wrapped his arms around your waist. He lifted you like a piece of feather and made his way to the yellow door that was already opened by a guy. Young il pushed you into the room and threw the other guy away from the door. When you scanned the room, your eyes were met with pair of foreign eyes.
“Out.” Young il said sharply to the other man in the room.
“We were here first.” The man said, his voice cracking as he was shaking in fear. Person behind the door tried to open it. You pushed your back against the door and held it with all of your strength. There was not much time left, and you were afraid that all of you were going die in this room.
Young il grabbed the man and locked his arms around his head. As they scooped to the floor, his arms got tighter around the player 343’s neck. You were still holding the door and preventing the other player to get in. For a second Young il’s intense gaze met with yours and you couldn’t look away.
He looked into your eyes, showing no emotion or weakness as the man he was choking started to turn purple. Your breath got stuck in your throat, your knees were shaking, and your palms were getting sweaty with the scene taking place in front of you. As there were few seconds left for the countdown, Young il twisted the man’s neck. The sound of bone cracking filled the room along with the sound of door locking behind you. He kept his eyes on you, as he tossed the dead body of the side.
The lifeless body of player 343 laid on the ground and the gunshots filled your ear. The screams of people scratched your brain, and you finally managed to close your eyes. He had killed someone in front of you, broke his neck with one swift motion and he had no emotion on his face as he did it. Your heart was beating so fast that you thought it was going to fail at some point. Then the images of him came to your mind. When he knocked down player 124 and 230 as he looked down at them with those emotionless eyes, when he carelessly slapped himself in the second game, when he looked at Gi-hun as if he wanted to strangle him when he thought no one was looking, when he pushed everyone out of his way to get both of you to safety during the mingle game and now when he killed someone.
“Open your eyes.” He breathed out, his breath hitting your face. Suddenly you felt his warmth surrounding you and him towering over your head. You slowly opened your eyes and there he was. Looking down at you, his eyebrows lifted up and with a mocking look in his eyes. His face was close to yours. Yet it did not feel comforting and safe like it did a night ago, when he was comforting you after a nightmare.
“What did you do?” Your voice was shaky and sounded terrified as you tried to look at the dead body that was in the corner of the room. He did not let you look away with his fingers finding your chin and holding it tight. He held you with those hands that just took the life of someone. You felt chills going down your spine.
“I made sure that we survived.” He whispered without breaking eye contact with you. You could hear soldiers cleaning up the mess outside of the rooms.
“You killed him.” You tried to shake his touch away, yet he didn’t let you. Instead, he got closer, until you were trapped between him and the door. His hot breath made your skin tingle, and his touch made you wanna cry.
“Yes.” He said, and his lips touched your cheek that was wetted by your tears. His lips planted a soft kiss onto your skin. The kiss made you feel dizzy and your knees weak.
“For you.” He continued. His words made you freeze in your spot. His lips traced over your skin like a ghost and reached the corner of your lips. “Only for you” He kissed the side of your mouth, softly, gently, with mercy. You wanted to rip his hands off of you, and run away. The floor beneath your feet was slippery with the blood of eliminated players. If you slipped and fell, would he let you go?
“All for you.” His lips found your chin, then your nose, then your other cheek. He did not rush or hold you harsh enough to hurt. Yet knowing that he had just killed someone with those hands made you wanna throw up.
Your tears dropped to his lips, and he licked his lips as if he was dying over thirst. And when he made eye contact with you again, it was the first time you saw a clear human emotion in his eyes. An emotion he did not try to hide or was afraid to show; yearning. You did not know if it was for you or winning. In both cases, it terrified you to your very being.
“Stop!” You said as sobs filled your mouth and he pressed his forehead against yours hard. You felt him shake his head, his arms wrapping around your fragile, little body compared to his strong form.
“I will give you everything you want, you need.” He said and pressed his lips against yours. Without waiting, his tongue made his way into your mouth, forcing your lips to open up for him. You felt the dizzy feeling take over your head. Your ears were ringing, your mind was foggy as he kissed you harsh, deep. There was no power left in your body, so you just let yourself to his arms.
His teeth crushed against yours and he was biting every corner of your lips until he drew blood. The irony taste filled your senses, made you jump. You did not know if it was you bleeding or him. But there was blood everywhere. Covering your tongue, your lips and staining your chin as your shared spit escaped from the corner of your lips. You felt your body burn all over. Your back was arching like a cat to get any closer to him, and there was a soreness between your legs that made your clit throb. You felt shame fill you and guilt making you wanna cry out. Instead, you kept kissing him, devouring him, eating him as much as you could.
You whined and pushed your head towards him when he parted your kiss with the sound of lock. The door was opened. The third game was finished. There was still a dead man in the room. Your mouth was covered in blood, making you look like you just feasted on someone. And his eyes were on you, watching you.
#squid game#squid game 2#front man#hwang in ho#young il#lee byung hun#frontman x reader#hwang in ho x reader#young il x reader#squid game x reader#squid game 2 x reader#blood and gore#he’s so daddy
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save a horse, ride your best friend — song mingi
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in which your best friend can’t believe you’ve never ridden a dick before, so he takes it upon himself to teach you.
best friend!song mingi x fem!reader. requested by anon. genre. slight fluff. smut. best friends to friends with benefits. warnings. explicit sexual content mdni, inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, use of a dildo, big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms, unprotected, creampie, swearing, nicknames (baby, angel, pretty). wc. 4k. rating. mature.
lilo’s notes. this was requested a while ago but i’ve been putting it off because… i’ve never written anything about toys being used so uh, i was worried about the pacing and stuff. i wasn’t sure if you meant for them to be in an established relationship, so i went for the fwb route. IMPORTANT!!!! i lost access to my google account bc of a stupid mistake, if you sent in a request through my google form and would still like me to see it, please send it as an ask <33 i remember a few of them, but do send yours in just in case!!
listening to. need to know, doja cat // if u think i’m pretty, artemas // moonlight, kali uchis
masterlist.
it was a regular saturday evening. you were on a video call with your best friend, mingi, talking about anything that came to mind as you each ate a bowl of ramen as if you were really in the same room. he really only lived a couple buildings away, a two minute walk at most, but actually joining you in your apartment didn’t cross his mind until something interesting was brought up.
you weren’t sure what led to the conversation, but somehow it steered into the direction of something less innocent as you found yourself talking about an embarrassing date you’d gone on a while ago. recounting the story, laughing together, soon turned into a conversation about what each of you like in bed.
“oh, it’s just amazing,” mingi laughed as he gulped down a mouthful of water, momentarily pausing his rambling about how much he loves it when someone rides his dick. he ran a his hand through his short, washed-out pink hair, “honestly, my favourite thing ever since it probably feels just as good for whoever is, y’know, riding.”
based on everything he’s said so far, you came to the conclusion that he was more into giving than receiving, that he got off on seeing all the pleasure he can give his partner. so, it made sense he’d choose to mention the fact that riding him would feel good. not that you would know.
“can i admit something?”
he looked up from his bowl, sharp eyes looking almost hopeful as he nodded.
you looked around your kitchen jokingly, pretending to make sure no one sense was listened as you leaned closer a whispered, your hand cupping the side of your mouth.
“i’ve never done that before.”
his jaw dropped at that, letting out a small laugh. “you’re kidding.”
“no, really,” you insisted, going back to eating casually as if you were having the most normal conversation in the world with your best friend, “i really haven’t done… much, so i can’t confirm or deny your theory.”
“huh.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. his head tilted and it was then that you felt how warm your cheeks felt, how your thighs were pressed together under the counter. of course, he was well aware of the fact that you had much less experience than him, only knowing about two people you had slept with. but damn. he clicked his tongue and shook his head ever so slightly. “that won’t do.”
furrowing your eyebrows, you opened your mouth to ask him what he had meant by that. he beat you to it before you could get a word out.
“i can… teach you, if you want?”
you blinked at your screen, resting your wrist on your countertop and gripping your chopsticks a little too hard. a silence followed his offer, though it wasn’t awkward. in fact, he could see you genuinely considering it as you thought it over. eventually, you gave him a tiny nod.
“i mean,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away shyly, “sure, i guess. why not?”
he grinned, trying to hide it as he shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth and shoved his bowl aside. he chewed, swallowed then got up and made sure to bring his phone with him. you recognised his hallways then bedroom as he walked through his apartment. “i’ll be there in like 15, i need to buy something on the way. just wait there, and where something comfortable and… um, accessible.”
you nodded, despite your confusion, and he hung up. accessible? you looked down at your clothing—or rather, lack thereof. since you were home and not expecting anyone, you’d settled on wearing just a shirt you stole from mingi that was too large for him and much larger for you, and panties. you lifted the hem of the worn shirt, assessing how much of your dignity you’d lose if he saw your pink hello kitty undergarments that you only wore if you were doing laundry.
you could already hear him giggling at the sight.
groaning and cursing under your breath, you dropped the shirt and sped to your bedroom to dig through your closet in hopes of finding something a little more appealing. after making a mess of one of your closet’s drawers, you finally pulled out a pair of less offensive panties. they were made of soft cotton; a muted light blue with thin white lace trim, the cut shaped more like a bikini than what you call your grandma underwear.
deciding they were flattering enough, you slipped off your hello kitty pair—ignoring the embarrassing amount of wetness creating a wet patch right where it was pressed against your core—and replaced it with the new pair. as you untwisted the waistband and adjusted it to fit properly, your doorbell rang and you froze on the spot before pulling yourself together and heading to open the door.
the walk to the door felt abnormally long as you stumbled over on wobbly knees. admittedly, you were a little nervous. sure, there have been times where you wanted to do some more than friendly activities with mingi, but you never actually thought it was happen. yet here you were, opening the door for him so he could come in and show you what being a cowgirl feels like.
“hey,” he greeted you softly, stepping into your home and closing the door behind him. you noticed a small plastic bag in his hand, eying it curiously as you watched him kick off his shoes and hang up his coat. once that was of the way, he took one of your hands in your free one and pulled you to where he knew your bedroom was.
once there, he set the bag down on your bedside table and dragged you to stand between his knees as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. he looked you over, lingering on the familiar t-shirt.
“so you’re the one that took this shirt, huh?” he quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at you as he released your hand and brought both of his to your hips. his thumbs caressed the curve of your waist over the shirt. “it was my favourite.”
you laughed softly, “clearly you didn’t care enough if i was able to keep it for three years without you noticing.”
“you little thief.” his nose scrunched as he glared at you jokingly, giving you a gentle squeeze.
“if you really want it back, you can always take it.”
“nah, it’s fine, keep it. it looks cuter on you anyway.” he took a breath and gave you another once over, humming appreciatively when he moved his hands up higher, dragging the shirt with it until he caught a glimpse of your panties. you tensed, caught off guard by how close he felt. “i need you to relax a little, how about i help you loosen up, yeah?”
you nodded, averting your gaze but returning it to him when you felt him pull you onto his lap. he slotted one of his legs between yours, easing you down to straddle his thigh. his hands ran up and down your sides and few times before resting on your bare thighs, your breath stuttered and he held back a smile.
“are you still okay with this?” he asked quietly, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his your shirt. “if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and i’ll stop immediately and we can just watch a movie or something, okay?” when you only nodded, he continued, “i need you to say it, please.”
“i’m okay with this,” you muttered in return, resting you hands on his biceps, “and i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”
“good, now…” without waiting any longer, he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck, his hands slowly beginning to rock you back and forth on his lap.
you sucked in a sharp breath and clung into his arms a little tighter, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of your clothed cunt on his firm thigh, your panties dragging against your clit with ease thanks to how wet you already were. he lifted you slightly as he pulled you towards him, pushing you down as he pushed, the varying pressure making your lips part in a soft whimper. he nearly groaned at the sound, moving his lips right below your ear.
“you know,” he rasped between the licks and kisses, “i can’t deny that i’ve wanted to fuck you for a long, long time now.”
“r-really?”
mingi chuckled as he pulled back to look at your face, half surprised and half needy. he noticed that if he relaxed his hands, you’d continue grinding against his thigh.
“yeah, really. i mean, look at you,” he glanced down, one of his hands lifting the hem of your shirt to watch you ride his thigh slowly, a dark wet patch forming right where your leaking pussy sat. he bit his lip, “you look so perfect… and i bet you’d feel perfect, too.”
you nearly whined at that, fucking yourself on his thigh just a little faster as he sucked a dark mark right above your collarbone before returning to mutter dirty words into your ear.
“i know practically everything about you and your cute little body, you know. better than anyone else,” one of his hands inched it’s way up your thighs, brushing against the edge of your panties, “i’ll make you feel so good, angel, i promise.”
“mingi?” you whimpered, prompting him to lean back a little to look at you with a curious tilt of his head and a raised brow. “if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now, i might lose my mind so… please.”
his beautifully plump lips stretched into a smile as he wasted no time in practically pouncing forward and smashing his lips against yours. it started a little slow as you got acquainted with each other, despite the fact you could feel a nearing orgasm as a knot in your stomach drew tighter with each roll of your hips, but soon the kiss turned hungry.
he groaned into your mouth as you let his tongue explore, making you let out a quiet moan. mingi knew he wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone ever again. you, his best friend of all people, had the most inviting lips he’s ever felt. so inviting, so perfect and so soft. he thought everything about was soft. his hand slipped just under the edge of your panties as his other one made your grinds slow down.
you didn’t mind the slow pace, knowing just a few more rocks of your hips would have you tipping over the edge. but he evidently had other plans as he finally made your hips still completely. you pulled away from his lips with a pout. if you were trying to make him feel bad, it backfired terribly.
all he could think of as he looks at your swollen, red, wet, pouty lips is how much prettier they’d look wrapped around his cock. but he could save that for another time.
“there’s no need to rush, baby,” he chuckled, wiping some saliva away from your bottom lip.
eventually, when he was sure you had calmed down enough, he lifted you off his lap a little and turned to lay you down on your back, pressed against the comfortable mattress as he kneeled on the edge. he gripped your knees and bent them, pushing them closer to your chest with his eyes zeroed in on where your slick was leaking through your panties.
with one hand keeping your knees together and elevated, he ran his other over the fabric, pressing down on where he knew your clot would be and elicit a sweet little moan as you squirmed beneath him. he thought you were so cute like this, you looked so flustered as he gave you nothing but featherlight touches where you needed him most. for now.
“don’t get all shy on me now,” he cooed as he glanced up and noticed you covering your face with your hands, “let me see you, pretty.”
he didn’t continue his touches until you finally removed your hands, giving him a nice view of your abused lips and round eyes, pupils blown wide with lust in a way that had something stirring in his abdomen. and his pants.
he let down your knees for a moment so both of his hands could slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. he actually moaned when he saw the strings of arousal clutching onto the fabric as he dragged it away, snapping when he got too far.
“you’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured, watching your entrance squeeze around nothing, making more slick drip out.
after tossing it aside, he wasted no time in getting your knees back to the previous position and running his fingers through your folds.
“oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you let out a moan when he tapped against your clit, “you’re soaked.”
he glanced up at you, wanting to see your face as he slowly pushed in too fingers and catching a glimpse of your hard nipples poking through your shirt. your face contorted for s fraction of s second before relaxing, your head tipping back against the mattress as you let out a whine.
he choked back a moan at the tight walls around his middle and ring fingers, the fingers of his other hand digging into your thighs. “sh-shit… you’re so tight. i’m gonna have to stretch you out first, okay?”
you nodded mindlessly, too distracted by his fingers prodding at your sweet spot to care about any words he may have said. but you furrowed your eyebrows and lifted your head when you felt both his hands leave you, finding him reaching for the bag. your curiosity outweighed your disappointment as he pulled something out.
it was a dildo. about as thick and long as the biggest person you had before, and made of what looked to be transparent silicon. your insides tightened at the sight, somehow the thought of him seemingly buying this just for you turning you on even more.
he returned to kneeling at the edge of your bed, leaning down to loop his arm around your waist and lift you up to place a pillow under your hips before letting lay back down.
“couldn’t find one my size, but this should be fine,” he held the dildo and ran the tip through your pussy, collecting wetness as you shuddered, “my cock will just have to stretch you the rest of the way.”
you breath hitched at the implication of his words. so he was bigger than that? your thighs pressed together at the thought of being completely stuffed by him. he chuckled, separating your knees enough for him to have a clear view of your pussy, pulsing and dripping and begging for his attention.
he began slipping the toy into you, filling you up inch by inch and watching your needy hole stretch around it and swallow it up. the sight had him choking back a moan, biting down on his bottom lip.
the stretch had your back arching and pushing yourself against it desperately, feeling like that alone could get you to finish. it only took a few deep strokes for your pussy to get used to the size, squeezing and writhing around it until you couldn’t handle it anymore. your arousal coated it quickly and seeped out with each stroke, squelching sounds filling the room that shot straight to his dick.
when you finally came, your toes curled and your body twitched as you let out a string of and whines and moans, little curses slipping between. he watched with fascination as you came undone right beneath him, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside you. he shoved the toy deep inside you, leaving it there as he leaned back for a moment to discard his clothes, slipping his hoodie and sweatpants off.
when you were brought back to your senses, you found yourself on his lap again, straddling his hips this time as he sat with his back against your headboard. you felt his erectile straining against his boxers and pressing against your core. you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his slowly.
“do you ever ride your pillow?” he asked suddenly, voice dropped what felt like two octaves lower than his regular tone. your eyes widened at the question but you nodded. he nodded too, his hands finding your ass and helping you grind against his clothes length. “this is a lot like that, except you have something in you… and it’s more of an up and down movement… and i’m obviously not a pillow… still, there’s really no right way to do it, just go slow and you’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. plus, i’m here to guide you.”
he gave your ass a squeeze as if to punctuate his sentence, massaging the soft flesh in his palms. when you felt ready, you dropped your hands from his shoulders to his boxers, palming his length a few times before hooking your fingers into the fabric and dragging it down until his cock sprung out.
he definitely wasn’t lying when he said it would stretch you more than the already-big dildo. he was definitely a lot bigger than anyone else you’ve been with, well over average. you nearly dropped at the sight, wrapping your hand around him and jerking him off, eyes fixated on the angry red tip leaking precum as you passed your thumb over it.
the muscles of his abs rippled and squeezed as your worked your hands on his cock, his head thrown back against the headboard and letting out stuttering moans. all the sounds he made encourage you to sit up on your knees, guiding him through your folds and whimpering as you finally sank down on him carefully.
the two of you moaned at the same time, him at how well you squeezed around him and you at how well he stretched you. you stopped when you reached just halfway, unsure whether or not you’d be able to fit more. his hips jerked slightly as his hands squeezed your hips.
“come on, baby,” he moaned softly, looking up at you with encouraging eyes, “just a little more… we can make it fit, right? just breathe.”
you nodded and as you took a deep breath, he used his hold on your to sink you further down until he finally bottomed out. he cursed silently, the back of his head finding the headboard again as you whined and dropped yours onto his shoulder.
you felt his tip pushing against your cervix, the new feeling making a lump form in your throat as you blinked back tears. this time it took a while to get used to the stretch before you tried grinding back and forth. it was slow, almost painfully so. he was amazed that despite stretching you with two different things, you were still so unbelievably tight, hugging him in a death grip as your raised your hips an inch before dropping down again.
your soft noises were muffled by his shoulder as your hands rested on his biceps, panting and squeezing gently as every inch of him dragged against the sensitive spongy patch in your walls every time you grinded on him. soon enough you were able to lift yourself to his tip and drop all the way down, your wetness letting him slip in and out with ease.
still, you kept the pace torturously slow, savouring each bounce and grind. his hands had left your hips at some point, exploring your body under your shirt, massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples. he lifted the fabric but kept it on your as he watched your tits bounce temptingly, your puffy pink nipples making his mouth water as he pushed himself forward to take one into his mouth.
your hips stuttered as he sucked and nibbled at your nipples, throwing your head back and arching into his touch as your grinds grew sloppy. he felt your decreasing pace, using the hand that wasn’t teasing your other breast to guide your hips once more. he angled you slightly differently in a way that made your clit press against his pelvis each time he bottomed out, the speed of your grinds picking up quickly as his hips bucked up to meet yours.
his lips detached from your bruised breasts with a popping sound as he leaned up to capture your lips in his once again. it wasn’t much of a kiss, more teeth and tongue and moans and groans than anything else as you swallowed each other’s sounds.
you finished first, pushing yourself down hard and stilling, filling yourself with his throbbing cock and pressing your clit against him. he held you tightly, burying his face in your neck to suck at all the spot he knew would get your to writhe. many tickling fights contributed to his knowledge on all your sensitive spots.
your body twitched as you returned to bouncing on his length, your juices looking at his base. the overstimulation burned a little, making your thighs and knees quiver, but you were determined to get him to finish too. and by the looks of it, it shouldn’t take much longer.
“shit, baby,” he said, halfway between a whimper and a moan, fingertips digging into your hips as he threw his head back in bliss, “‘m so close— fuck, you feel s-so good.”
his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, bottom lip caught between his teeth. his cheeks and the tip of his ears flushed a deep red, his plush lips a few shades darker and coated in your mixed saliva from your kisses. as you adjusted the angle of your hips, something in him snapped, grabbing your hips tighter and taking over. he took over your movements, thrusting his hips up desperately as you fell forward onto his chest with the sudden change in intensity. his tip pushed itself against your g-spot continually, another knot tightening in your stomach.
the wet sounds of your cunt and your skin slapping against his egged him on until finally he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer.
“baby, p-please— fuck— please, can i cum i-inside you?” he begged through a groan, “i— please, angel, i-i can’t wait any longer.”
you nodded against his chest with a whine, you were on the pill anyway. not a second later, he released into you, filling you up with stuttering hips. he pulled you down, flush against him and keeping you there as he emptied himself with softly muttered curses, his head dropping to press open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder.
it felt new to you, the warmth making you squirm until you came again without warning. it was much weaker this time but still enough to make you shake in his arms, panting softly after letting out a strangled moan against his skin.
after a few long moments of trying to recover from the shared orgasm, he lifted his head, one of his hands cupping your chin to tilt your head to look at him.
“so,” he started, lips stretched into a smile, “how’d that feel?”
“fucking amazing.” you rolled your eyes at how smug he looked after your confession, not protesting as he leaned forward to kiss you.
this one was much softer than the previous kisses you shared, much more tender. it was a lot shorter too, he pulled away first to rest his forehead against yours.
“yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your lips, “just wait until i hit it from the back.”
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