#whistle up a bad idea
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finxwrites · 7 months ago
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chapter's up!
Dark Prince Shizui more pls? 👀💀
“He’s my uncle,” Jin Ling finally muttered.
Jingyi’s eyebrows climbed of their own accord. “He is,” he agreed warily.
Jin Ling crossed his arms. “I’ll have a better chance going up the mountain alone than with you idiots.”
Jingyi snorted. “Who do you think you are, Hanguang-jun?”
“It’s easier for one person to be discreet than seven,” Jin Ling said stubbornly. “And I just have to get far enough to—”
He swallowed, cutting himself off. His face was set in a frown, as usual, but it was pinched with something a lot sadder and more uncertain than his default grumpiness. “Get far enough to what?” Jingyi asked softly.
Jin Ling flicked a nervous glance at him. “Far enough to get his attention. If I can just—If he sees it’s me—” He folded his arms tighter. “He still cares about family. I know he does.”
Jingyi’s heart cracked in his chest. “Jin Ling…”
“He’s my uncle!” Jin Ling snarled. “I know he’s a villain and a murderer, I’m not—I’m not stupid. But he’s my uncle. He won’t—”
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unimportant-ramblings · 2 years ago
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I'm so sorry guys I know that everyone knows this here but the rhetoric of "alw is closing Phantom Broadway for Bad Cinderella" will in fact kill me
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aethersea · 2 years ago
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ooohh i'd love to hear a bit about The Arrangement! 👀👀👀
ooh ok well that one is a sequel to what was, at the time I wrote it, the most niche, self-indulgent fic I’d ever written. It was a Tortall au of the Avengers, specifically Song of the Lioness, in which an 11-year-old Natasha disguises herself as a boy to become a knight of the realm. Steve is the prince, Bucky is a ward of the queen so they’re kind of brothers, and the Howling Commandos are all pages training alongside them to be knights. The fic has Natasha befriending Clint, who does archery in a traveling circus, and then the two of them stop a political-ploy-or-maybe-it-was-just-a-prank against Steve.
I had so much worldbuilding for this. All the major MCU characters were cast, and a few minor ones that I just liked a lot, and I had vague but lofty plans for a coup in the future that would take Steve out of the world in a parallel to getting frozen in the Arctic, and then on his return he’d have to gather the Avengers and take back the throne—
Alas, my breakup with the MCU was acrimonious and final. But lately I’ve reread this fic a few times and decided that I’m keeping it in the divorce actually, so I’ve started to write the sequel. Or rather, the bridge between this fic and the sequel, because I need to set things up so that Clint leaves the circus and joins Natasha and the others in the palace. That way he can be around when Tony shows up – he’s studying magic at the City of the Gods, but he comes by for a visit or something – and suddenly someone starts trying to kill both him and Steve.
That original fic is called The Archer. At some point I gave up trying to come up with a better title – generally speaking, once it’s posted, I just leave it alone. But see if I call the sequel The Assassin, and then this intermediary fic is called The Arrangement, then it’s a theme! We love a themed naming convention.
I have just two scenes so far, but I’m going to keep at it, because this is still a wildly self-indulgent fic and that’s the sort of thing I want to embrace in my writing.
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mothidocandart · 9 months ago
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If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s doing my job while looking and feeling like I’m going to lose my shit at any moment
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prettyboykatsuki · 23 days ago
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cause we're, y'know | k. bakugou
✮ tags ; gender neutral reader, fluff, post relationship jitters, bakugou being down bad a little bit, friends to lovers. not 18+ but minors do Not follow me.
✮ wc ; 1k
✮ a/n ; a comm for @euthymiya who gave me free reign to do whatever which i used to write corny bkg fluff... thank u for commissioning me most beloved riv <3
✮ synopsis ; bringing his friend turned lover a lunchbox is normal, alright? plenty fucking normal.
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Bakugou taps his fingers along the edge of the bench he's been sitting on since evening - beating to an unsteady rhythm.
He can Sero's voice in the back his hand as he squeezes the wrapped bento a little closer to his torso. The shitty, sing-song teasing lilt when you and Bakugou were less then lovers but more then friends.
And now you're lovers proper, as fucking corny as he finds it. But maybe he's not finding it corny enough because he's sitting in the lobby of your office building with a bento he made by hand. There's some chatter from strangers coming in and out of your office building - the occasional ding of elevators, the passing whistle of a janitor.
The awful, loud, no good thump of his heartbeat ricocheting against his rib cage as he goes back and forth on whether or not this shit was a good idea.
He's... fucking nervous. Which is total bullshit because he doesn't have anything to be nervous about. It's not like this is the first time you and Bakugou have ever met up to eat lunch. It was just that before, he was coming to meet you as a friend.
Some part of him is thinking, so what if he's your boyfriend? Who gives a shit, anyway?
Another part of him feels so mixed about the ordeal he sort of wants to puke.
His phone buzzes from the pocket of his pants and he grabs it - your phone and contact flashing across his screen
(sent 11:12am) coming down :]
Bakugou smiles to himself, at the stupid emoticon. He thinks about just liking your reply but before he gets the chance another text follows through.
(sent 11:12am) missed you <3
He blushes almost furiously. Partially over the text but mostly from his internal reaction. Stupid. This whole thing is so stupid. He types fast.
(sent 11:14am) hurry your ass up.
That's all he can manage to say without feeling like his chest is going to collapse in on itself. He waits another minute before he hears the elevator doors ding again - a crowd of people dispersing as the doors open. He looks for you among them.
He finds you after a minute, hand waving overhead of the sea of people. He huffs, amused at how rapidly you wave your hand, and thinks about texting you again but you're close enough that he doesn't bother.
You march towards him with a renewed vigor after you aren't lost to the sea of strangers. Bakugou snorts as you hurry your way over to him, almost seeming out of breath - like you ran to see him.
"Hey,"
"Hi!" You say, chipper as always. "You're here."
"No shit."
You laugh. He's heard it before. A hundred times, a thousand maybe. It still sounds weirdly different to him.
"Did you have anywhere in mind to eat?" You ask.
Horror dawns on him at the realization you still didn't realize what's in his hand. "I'm up for anything I think. Feeling adventurous."
Your eyes are sparkling when you ask. Bakugou freezes, blue screening momentarily before taking a breath.
He holds the boxed bento out to you sheepishly, a hand scratching the back of his neck. This is way more embarrassing then he thought it'd be.
"Fuck. Whatever. Look," He says, shaking the upset off of him with a frown. " He doesn't look up at you, doesn't even want to know what he might see. Something bright enough to fucking blind him, he's sure. "Don't say shit or I'm never making you one again."
You blink owlishly before letting your eyes flicker down again at what it's in front you. There's a beat of silence between you before Bakugou sees a grin slowly creep it's way up to your face in a way that makes his chest feel tight.
You take the wrapped bento from him, assessing the weight of it in your hand as you give it a good look. You hold it up to admire it and Bakugou feels the blush crawl further down his neck.
"Stop acting like I just handed you a diamond or some shit," Bakugou says lamely, even by his own standards. Your lips form into affectionate pout.
"You made me a bento." Your lower lip trembles all too sudden and Bakugou's eyes go wide. "I love you,"
?!
Bakugou looks at you, mouth agape. You're completely serious. Nevermind the inappropriate timing or the fact this is the first time you've expressed yourself with a word so serious. He's more concerned about the almost tears at your eyes. He pulls his sleeves over his hands to wipe them from your eyes.
"Dumbass, what are you crying about? You're still in the office, get it together."
"But I love you," You say, more whine then coherent word. Bakugou feels a headache coming on.
"Yeah I got that. Am I really such a shithead me bringing you lunch is worth sobbing over?"
"You made it for me."
"Cause I ain't no punk. Anyone can pay for you you but we're," He stops himself mid way, too embarrassed to get the rest out. "Anyways whatever. It's just lunch. I just... fuckin' realized I never made it for you. Dinner and shit is one thing but we're,"
"Dating," You finish before he can. He falls victim to more blushing.
"Yeah. Whatever. This much is pretty standard, at least." He wipes another tear off your face. It's funny. Anyone else pulled some shit like this and he'd rolls his eyes. "Stop cryin' already."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't gotta say sorry either."
"But,"
"No buts. Hurry and wipe your tears before your breaks over so you don't go all puffy eyed back in the office."
You laugh through a sniffle. "They'll think my boyfriend was being mean to me, huh?"
He snorts, voice full of playful sarcasm. "Yeah exactly. I've got a great reputation to uphold and all."
"Katsuki," You say gently. He gives you a look.
"Hm?"
You lean forward, craning up just slightly to press your lips to his. Your third kiss, now. Not that he's been counting.
"Thank you and," You pull back mischievously, brows furrowing. "Revenge."
He's in so deep. Fuck.
"You're such an idiot." He says, fighting off his own feelings.
"You love me,"
Maybe he's an idiot too.
"Yeah." He says, flicking your forehead and watching you beam. "Unfortunately."
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sonarspace · 25 days ago
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⋆✴︎˚。⋆STUDY BREAK (FT. GOJO)
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꒰ synopsis. being in the same class as gojo satoru was bad enough; having him as the professor’s insufferably smug assistant made it worse. content. college au. nsfw. (teasing. slight praise kınk. fıngering. oräl. p in v. multiple ōrgasms.) wc. 5.3k. an. to clear up any confusion 😭.. satoru’s a senior student + the professor’s assistant in the course you’re both taking. (fic is kinda all over the place so idk if this works but let’s pretend like it does).
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there’s something about gojo satoru that drives you insane. not in the fun, heart-fluttering way that comes with a secret crush or the thrill of banter. no—this is the kind of insane where you want to hurl something, preferably at his stupidly smug face.
“class,” he drawls, leaning lazily against the desk at the front of the room, his shirt slightly rumpled like he doesn’t give a damn—and he doesn’t. “these papers? a mixed bag. some of you really impressed me. others… well.” his lips curve into a smirk. “let’s just say the recycling bin was hungry.”
you groan inwardly, already sensing where this is going. he’s done this before, holding your work hostage like it’s part of his routine entertainment.
“and here,” he continues, brandishing a paper like a prop. your paper. “is a prime example of someone… almost getting there. strong ideas, decent execution, but the conclusion? oof. fell harder than my GPA sophomore year.”
a few students laugh. your jaw tightens, the heat in your chest bubbling up into something sharp and biting. he doesn’t have to name you; everyone knows exactly whose paper he’s waving around.
“anyway,” he finishes with a shrug, tossing the paper onto the desk like it’s disposable. “there’s potential. keep at it.”
you don’t even wait for class to end before your resolve solidifies: you’re going to kill him. maybe not literally, but metaphorically? absolutely.
you don’t plan on storming to his dorm room. it just… happens. one moment, you’re replaying his smug grin and the way his eyes gleamed when he mocked your paper, and the next, you’re standing outside his door, your fist raised to knock.
he answers quickly, and the sight of him makes you falter. his hair is damp, sticking out in soft tufts like he just got out of the shower, and his plain white t-shirt clings to him in a way that’s almost—no. you shake the thought away.
“well, this is unexpected,” he says, leaning against the doorframe with a grin that’s all teeth. “if you wanted private tutoring, you could’ve just asked.”
“don’t flatter yourself,” you snap, brushing past him into the room without waiting for an invitation.
he whistles low under his breath. “feisty tonight. to what do I owe the pleasure?”
you spin to face him, your hands clenched at your sides. “what is your problem with me?”
he blinks, his smirk faltering for a fraction of a second before returning full force. “problem? sweetheart, i don’t have a problem with you.”
“you humiliate me in class,” you say, your voice rising. “you make these comments, you single me out—what, are you that bored with your life?”
“humiliate?” he echoes, feigning a wounded look. “i think you mean ‘motivate.’ you’re one of the smartest people in that class. if i don’t push you, who will?”
“that’s bullshit,” you fire back, stepping closer. “you don’t ‘push’ anyone else.”
“because no one else is as fun,” he replies easily, his grin tilting into something sharper. “the way you react, the fire in your eyes—it’s addictive.”
your breath catches, the heat in your chest spreading to your cheeks. “you’re insufferable.”
“and yet, here you are,” he says, his voice dropping just enough to make the air between you feel heavier. “in my room. alone.”
“because you drive me crazy,” you snap, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.
his eyebrows lift slightly, as if he’s genuinely intrigued by your outburst. “good crazy or bad crazy?”
he takes a step closer, too close. the kind of close that makes your pulse stutter and your instincts scream at you to step back—but you don’t. instead, you stand your ground, your jaw clenched as he waits for your answer, his gaze steady and almost daring.
“what does it matter?” you mutter, your voice quieter now, the heat of your earlier anger ebbing into something more uncertain.
“it matters,” he says, his voice low as his eyes flicker to your lips. “because I need to know if I can do this.”
before you can ask what he means, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours like he’s giving you the chance to pull away. but you don’t. his hand finds your waist, tugging you closer as the kiss deepens, his mouth hot and insistent against yours.
it’s like a dam breaking. weeks—months—of tension and unspoken words all come crashing down in a rush of heat and urgency. his other hand slides into your hair, tilting your head to kiss you deeper, and the sound you make in response is embarrassing and needy, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
you should stop this. you should push him away, tell him he’s crossed a line. but the way his thumb brushes against your waist, the way he tilts his head just right, the way he kisses like he’s been waiting for this moment as long as you have—it’s addictive. you can’t stop. you don’t want to.
but then reality slams into you like a cold gust of wind. what are you doing? your chest tightens as the weight of it crashes down all at once, the heat between you dissolving into something sharper, more terrifying.
you pull back abruptly, your breathing uneven. “i can’t.”
he blinks, his expression softening from one of heat to confusion. “what?”
“this—this is a mistake,” you stammer, backing away. your hands feel clumsy as they fumble behind you for the door. “i shouldn’t have come here.”
“wait.” his hand reaches out, almost instinctively, but you’re already opening the door, your chest tight and your mind racing as you step out into the hall. you don’t look back, even as the warmth of his touch lingers on your skin.
────
you avoid him after that. in class, you sit as far from him as possible, claiming a seat in the back corner, close to the door. the usual tension he brought to the room—his teasing remarks, his piercing gaze when he caught you rolling your eyes—feels conspicuously absent. he doesn’t call on you, doesn’t glance your way, doesn’t even acknowledge you.
it’s been weeks since that night in his dorm, and as the semester nears its end, the distance feels heavier with every passing class. his silence, once the thing you desperately wanted, now presses on your chest like a weight. you wonder if he regrets it, if he’s just as caught in the what-ifs as you are—or if he’s already forgotten.
the final project looms, deadlines creeping closer, but the distraction isn’t enough to stop the quiet ache that’s settled in your chest. you remind yourself it’s for the best. boundaries were crossed, a line you know you shouldn’t have stepped over. it doesn’t matter how he made you feel, how his kisses left you breathless and yearning. none of it matters.
and yet, every time you leave class, you rush, head down, praying he won’t stop you. and every time he doesn’t, the ache grows.
when class ends today, the air feels heavier than usual. your peers chatter around you, their voices blending into background noise as you pack your things quickly, eyes fixed on the door. if you can just slip out unnoticed, avoid another day of walking the tightrope you’ve been balancing on since that night—
but then a hand wraps gently around your wrist, warm and familiar.
“you’re avoiding me,” he says, his voice low and steady. there’s no edge to it, no teasing grin or smug undertone. just quiet certainty, like he’s stating a fact.
you freeze, your heart thudding in your chest. it’s been so long since he’s said anything to you that the sound of his voice directed at you feels foreign.
“i’m late,” you mumble, tugging your wrist weakly in an attempt to free yourself. “let me go.”
“you don’t have any classes after this,” he says, his grip loosening but not letting go. his eyes meet yours, calm but resolute. “i checked your schedule.”
your jaw tightens, irritation flashing through you. “you shouldn’t have access to my schedule.”
“probably not,” he admits with a shrug, a hint of the old satoru creeping into his voice, “but i’m me.”
you open your mouth to snap at him, to tell him to back off, but he cuts you off first. “come have coffee with me.”
you blink, caught off guard by the casual offer. “what?”
“coffee,” he repeats, his tone light, as if this is perfectly normal. “you like coffee, don’t you?”
“that’s not the point,” you snap, yanking your wrist free from his grasp. “what is this, some weird apology?”
“it’s not weird,” he says, his smirk faltering slightly now, his expression open and strangely earnest. “it’s just coffee. with me.”
you stare at him, struggling to find the right words. “gojo,” you begin, your voice heavy, “you and i are not friends.”
his face falls, the shift so quick and unexpected that it makes your stomach twist. you see the way his shoulders tense, the way his gaze drops for just a moment, but you force yourself to look away. without giving him a chance to reply, you turn and push past him, your steps quick and unsteady as you leave the classroom.
the ache in your chest grows with every step, and even as you round the corner, out of sight, the image of his expression lingers. there’s no relief this time. only guilt.
────
you don’t know why you’re here. no, that’s a lie—you know exactly why you’re here. the memory of his expression, the slight drop of his shoulders at your retort, has been looping in your mind, making it impossible to focus on anything else.
your feet carry you down the familiar path to his dorm, the ache in your chest twisting tighter with every step. before you can talk yourself out of it, your fist is already knocking on the door.
it opens almost immediately, and the sight of him steals the breath from your lungs. his white hair is a mess, sticking up in chaotic directions, and his glasses are perched crookedly on his nose. there’s a faint crease on his cheek, like he’d been leaning against a book, and his shirt hangs loosely off one shoulder, rumpled from sleep or hours spent working. he looks… soft. disarming. almost painfully cute.
“coffee,” you say, holding up the cups like a white flag. “can i come in?”
his lips twitch, a hint of a smile breaking through the haze of surprise as he steps aside. “bribery, huh? didn’t think you had it in you.”
his dorm is as cluttered as you remember—papers and notebooks sprawled across his desk, a blinking laptop shoved precariously to one side. you set the coffee down on the edge of the desk, your gaze catching on the scrawled notes and dense blocks of text.
“grading?” you ask.
“research,” he replies, dropping onto the edge of his bed with a tired sigh. his hand rakes through his already-messy hair, making it stick up even more. “finals prep. you know, glamorous TA things.”
you hand him a cup, your fingers brushing against his as he takes it. the simple contact sends a jolt up your arm that you stubbornly ignore. “thought you could use it.”
he hums as he takes a sip, his lashes fluttering briefly before he lets out a quiet sound of approval. the noise is so low, so soft, it makes your stomach twist. you glance away quickly, your grip tightening on your own cup.
“about the other day,” you start, the words quiet and tentative.
he glances up, the coffee still in his hands. his expression is unreadable, but his fingers still against the cup, like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. “you don’t have to explain,” he says, setting his cup down on the desk. “if you don’t want this—if i got it wrong—just say so.”
“it’s not that,” you blurt, the words tumbling out too fast, too raw. warmth floods your cheeks, creeping down to your chest. “i just… i don’t know what this is.”
he doesn’t respond immediately, doesn’t fall into his usual teasing deflection. instead, he stands, crossing the small space between you with deliberate steps. his gaze holds yours, steady and unguarded, and it makes your stomach flip in a way you can’t control.
“let me show you,” he says softly, his voice low, uncharacteristically serious.
he’s so close now, his hand brushing against yours, his touch light, almost hesitant. and then his lips are on yours, and everything else fades away.
this kiss is nothing like the first. there’s no uncertainty, no restraint. his hands find your waist, pulling you flush against him as his mouth moves against yours, hot and insistent. your grip on the coffee slips, the cup hitting the floor with a dull thud as your hands find his shoulders, clutching at the fabric of his shirt.
when his hands slide under your shirt, the roughness of his palms against your bare skin makes you shudder. he guides you backward, his body pressing into yours until the backs of your knees hit the mattress. you sink down, the weight of him grounding you as he follows, his lips trailing fire along your jaw and down your neck.
his hands are everywhere—tracing the curve of your waist, brushing the underside of your ribs, exploring like he’s memorizing every inch of you. when he pulls back to look at you, his lips are curved in a wicked, breath-stealing grin.
“you’re infuriating,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough as his eyes rake over you, drinking in every detail.
“you’re worse,” you manage, though your voice is barely more than a whisper.
his grin widens, and his laugh is warm against your skin as he dips his head, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear. “you’re already so worked up. it’s cute.”
“shut up,” you snap, though the way your hips arch into his touch betrays you.
“make me,” he challenges, his lips brushing against yours before descending lower, kissing down your collarbone and tugging your shirt higher with every inch. his hands roam greedily, tugging the fabric over your head and tossing it somewhere behind him without a second thought.
his mouth is back on you immediately, nipping and kissing along the swell of your breasts as his hands work the clasp of your bra. when it comes free, his lips part in a satisfied hum, his hands kneading your soft skin like he’s savoring every second of this.
“so fucking perfect,” he mutters, his voice husky as he leans back slightly to take in the sight of you. his gaze is heavy, filled with something dark and hungry that makes your stomach twist in the best way.
“stop staring,” you grumble, though the heat in your cheeks betrays the sharpness of your words.
“can’t help it,” he says, his grin tilting into something softer, more genuine. “you’re gorgeous.”
before you can respond, his mouth is back on you, his tongue flicking over your nipple as his other hand trails down your stomach, fingers dipping just beneath the waistband of your pants. your breath hitches as he pauses, his gaze flicking up to meet yours.
“can i?” he asks, his voice quieter now, his expression serious.
you nod, and he wastes no time. his fingers hook under the fabric, tugging your pants and underwear down in one swift motion. the cool air against your bare skin makes you shiver, but the warmth of his hands is there immediately, coaxing you to relax under his touch.
“look at you,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick as his hands part your thighs, his gaze drinking in every inch of you. “so fucking pretty.”
your cheeks flush, and you try to turn your head away, but his hand cups your chin, gently coaxing you to meet his eyes. “don’t hide from me,” he says, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “not tonight.”
his other hand slides between your thighs, his touch featherlight at first, teasing. when his thumb brushes over your clit, a jolt of heat shoots through you, and your hips buck involuntarily.
“sensitive,” he murmurs, his lips curving into a wicked grin. “i barely touched you, and you’re already squirming.”
“shut up,” you snap, your voice shaky as your fingers clutch at the sheets beneath you. but the way your body reacts—arching into his touch, chasing the pressure—makes it clear that his teasing isn’t far from the truth.
“you don’t really want me to, do you?” his voice is low, almost a growl, and the sound of it sends a shiver down your spine. “i think you like when i talk to you like this. when i tell you how good you’re doing, how fucking beautiful you look right now.”
your chest heaves as his fingers dip lower, sliding through your slick folds with infuriating slowness. every movement feels deliberate, calculated, like he’s savoring every second. when his fingers finally slip inside you, the stretch makes your head fall back, a gasp tumbling from your lips.
“that’s it,” he murmurs, his thumb circling your clit as his fingers begin to move, slow and deliberate at first. “you feel so fucking good, baby. so perfect.”
your hands fly to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he curls his fingers, hitting a spot that makes your vision blur. “oh my god—gojo—”
he tuts sharply, his fingers pausing inside you, his thumb stalling its maddening rhythm. your head snaps up, breathless and confused, to find him staring down at you with a dark look, his lips curving into a smirk that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“no,” he says firmly, his voice low and commanding as he tilts his head. “say satoru.”
“w-what?” you stammer, your heart racing as his fingers remain perfectly still, the tension building with every passing second.
“not ‘gojo,’” he says again, his free hand sliding up to cup your jaw, tilting your face toward his. his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, his grin sharpening. “say satoru.”
you hesitate, your breath hitching as your body trembles beneath him. he presses his fingers deeper, curling them just enough to make your toes curl, and your resolve shatters.
“satoru,” you gasp, your voice breaking on the syllables.
his smirk widens, something dark and triumphant flickering in his eyes. “good girl,” he murmurs, his thumb resuming its slow, torturous circles on your clit as his fingers pick up their rhythm again, harder this time, deeper.
your head falls back against the mattress, your body arching into his touch as the pleasure builds again, higher and hotter than before. his name tumbles from your lips like a mantra, breathless and needy as he drives you closer to the edge.
“that’s it,” he coaxes, his voice dripping with praise as his free hand slides down your body, his touch possessive. “just like that, baby. let go for me.”
the coil in your stomach tightens to the breaking point, and when he curls his fingers just right, pressing against the perfect spot, it snaps. your orgasm crashes over you, white-hot and overwhelming, and his name spills from your lips in a broken moan.
“satoru—fuck—”
“that’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice rough with approval as he works you through the waves of pleasure, his movements slowing but never stopping until your body goes slack beneath him, trembling and spent.
he pulls his hand away slowly, his gaze fixed on you as he brings his fingers to his lips, licking them clean with a deliberate, satisfied hum. “even better than i imagined,” he says, his voice dripping with arrogance, his eyes gleaming as they roam over your flushed, trembling body.
you blink, your breath still uneven as his words settle over you. “wait—” you say, your voice catching slightly. “you’ve thought about this?”
his grin widens, slow and deliberate, and he leans down, bracing himself on his forearms so his face is just inches from yours. “oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, “you really think i haven’t?”
your cheeks flush even hotter, your pulse racing as his words sink in. “you’re—” you stammer, at a rare loss for words. “you’re ridiculous.”
“ridiculous?” he repeats, feigning offense, though the wicked glint in his eyes never falters. “i’d say i’m a man of focus. you’ve been in my head for weeks, driving me insane with that sharp mouth and the way you look at me when you think i don’t notice.”
“i don’t—” you begin, but his lips curve into a knowing smirk, cutting you off.
“you do,” he insists, his tone softening just slightly. “and every time you glared at me, every time you rolled your eyes or bit back some little retort, all i could think about was how much i wanted to shut you up. like this.”
his lips capture yours again, and this kiss is slower, heavier, laced with an intensity that makes your toes curl. his hands roam, sliding over your bare skin with a reverence that feels almost out of place against his words.
when he finally pulls back, his gaze is still on you, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “and now that i’ve got you,” he says, his voice dipping into something darker, “i don’t think i’ll ever get enough.”
the weight of his confession leaves you breathless, and before you can respond, his lips are trailing down your body again, his hands parting your thighs as he settles between them.
“what are you—” you start, but his eyes flick up to meet yours, and the look in them steals the rest of your words.
“relax,” he murmurs, his lips curving into a soft, almost mischievous smile. “i’m not done tasting you yet.”
his hands slide to grip your thighs, pulling you apart with ease as his lips descend, brushing over your inner thighs, teasingly slow. his tongue flicks out, hot and wet against your skin, and when his mouth finally finds you again, you feel your body arch instinctively, your breath leaving in a sharp, unrestrained gasp.
he’s relentless. his tongue drags up your folds in a languid stroke before circling your clit with maddening precision. his mouth is hot, the slick, wet sounds mingling with your soft moans, and his breath—warm and uneven—fans against your skin with every movement.
his hair brushes against your thighs, soft and messy, and your fingers thread through it again, tugging sharply enough to make him groan against you. the vibration of it sends a jolt of pleasure straight through your core, and your hips buck against his mouth.
“satoru,” you gasp, but it’s barely coherent, your voice breaking as he latches onto your clit, sucking just enough to make your toes curl. “oh my—”
the cold press of something against your inner thigh pulls you out of the haze, just barely. it’s sharp, unfamiliar, and you glance down—his glasses. they’re still perched on his nose, slightly crooked, the metal frame fogging faintly from the heat of his breath. he’s so lost in the moment, so focused on the way his tongue works against you, that he hasn’t even noticed.
your hand drifts down, brushing against the cool frame, and you slip them off without a word. the absurdity of it—the way he’s been eating you out with his glasses still on—makes you want to laugh. the corners of your mouth twitch, and a soft sound bubbles up in your throat, but then his tongue presses flat against your folds, dragging up in one slow, deliberate motion, and the laugh dissolves into a sharp moan.
your head falls back against the pillow, your hand tangling back in his hair as you toss the glasses onto the bed with the other. the noise they make as they hit the mattress is faint, drowned out by the obscene wet sounds of his mouth, the low hums of satisfaction he lets out as he devours you.
“fuck,” you whimper, your thighs trembling as his tongue flicks against your clit again, faster now, more insistent. your body arches instinctively, chasing the pressure, and his hands tighten on your thighs, pulling you even closer to his mouth.
he growls against you, the sound low and rough, vibrating through you in a way that makes your toes curl. his tongue dips lower, teasing your entrance before sliding back up, and the sharp scrape of his teeth against your swollen clit has you seeing stars.
“so fucking sweet,” he mutters, his voice muffled against your slick skin. “can’t get enough of you, baby.”
you can’t respond, can’t think. the only thing you can focus on is the way his tongue works against you, precise and relentless, building the heat in your stomach until it’s unbearable. your fingers twist in his hair, pulling harder, and the groan he lets out in response sends you spiraling.
“satoru—” his name falls from your lips like a prayer, breathless and broken. he doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, his mouth dragging you closer and closer to the edge until you can’t hold on any longer.
your orgasm hits you hard, ripping through you in waves that leave your entire body trembling. your hips jerk against his hold, your moans loud and unrestrained as you ride it out. his tongue slows, working you through every aftershock until you’re left panting, boneless against the bed.
when he finally pulls back, his chest is heaving, his lips and chin glistening with your slick. his hair is a mess, strands sticking up where your fingers had tugged, and his eyes—those impossibly bright blues—flick up to meet yours, gleaming with satisfaction.
“twice,” he says, his voice low and teasing as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
he sits back on his knees, his hands smoothing over your trembling thighs as he takes in the sight of you—flushed, panting, your chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath. his grin is lazy, self-satisfied, like he knows exactly what he’s done to you.
“you’re staring,” you mutter weakly, your voice barely above a whisper.
“hard not to,” he replies, his tone low and full of amusement. his fingers trace lazy patterns on your skin, his touch soft, teasing. “you look so fucking good when you come.”
your cheeks burn, and you want to glare at him, to tell him to shut up, but the words catch in your throat as he reaches for the hem of his shirt. in one fluid motion, he pulls it over his head and tosses it to the side, the movement effortless and maddeningly confident.
your eyes follow the shift of his muscles, the way they ripple under his skin, lean and defined. a faint sheen of sweat glistens across his chest, catching the dim light, highlighting every sharp line and curve. your gaze drifts lower, down to the sharp ridges of his abdomen. the faint trail of white hair starting just below his navel draws your attention, leading your eyes further, until his hands move to the waistband of his boxers.
he doesn’t rush. he hooks his thumbs under the fabric, dragging it down slowly, deliberately, letting the anticipation coil tighter in your stomach. as the fabric falls away, your breath hitches.
he’s fully bare now, and your mouth goes dry.
his cock is… breathtaking. thick and flushed a deep pink at the tip, already leaking beads of precum that catch the light as they drip down the length. it’s long, the kind of length that makes your thighs press together instinctively, wondering how he’ll fit, but the heat pooling low in your stomach burns hotter, overriding any hesitation.
his hand wraps around it, and he strokes himself slowly, his thumb swiping over the head to collect the wetness there. the motion is deliberate, almost lazy, and the soft groan he lets out sends a shiver down your spine.
you’re staring—you know you are—and he notices, his lips curving into a wicked grin as his eyes flick up to meet yours.
“don’t worry, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing as he leans forward, the head of his cock brushing against your folds, slick and hot. “i’ll make it fit.”
his words send a shiver through you, his voice low and dripping with confidence. the weight of his cock against your folds, hot and heavy, is enough to make your hips twitch instinctively, chasing the friction. but he doesn’t push in right away—of course he doesn’t. instead, he drags the head up and down your slick, letting it catch on your clit with every pass, teasing you until you’re squirming beneath him.
“satoru,” you whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders. you’re not above begging at this point. “please.”
his grin widens, his head dipping to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “what’s the rush, baby? we’ve got all night.”
“satoru,” you repeat, more insistently this time, and he groans at the sound of his name on your lips, his cock twitching against you.
“fuck,” he mutters, his voice tight now, losing some of that smug edge. “you sound so pretty when you beg.”
he lines himself up, his hand still wrapped around the base as he presses the head against your entrance. the stretch is immediate, a sharp, overwhelming mix of pleasure and pressure as he pushes in slowly, inch by inch.
“holy shit,” he breathes, his voice rough as his head falls forward, his hair brushing against your cheek. “you’re so fucking tight.”
your fingers clutch at his shoulders, your breath catching as he sinks deeper, the fullness stealing every coherent thought from your mind. he pauses halfway, his free hand sliding up to cup your jaw, tilting your face toward his.
“you okay?” he asks, and there’s something softer in his voice now, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort.
you nod, your voice shaky as you answer. “yeah. just—keep going.”
his jaw tightens, and he exhales slowly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before he starts to move again. every inch feels impossibly deep, your walls stretching around him, and when he finally bottoms out, you both pause, your breaths mingling as you try to adjust.
“fuck,” he groans again, his voice strained as his hips twitch against yours. “you feel so good. better than i ever—” he cuts himself off with a shaky laugh, shaking his head. “shit, you’re perfect.”
you can barely respond, the stretch and fullness leaving you trembling. but then he starts to move, pulling out almost entirely before sliding back in with a slow, deliberate roll of his hips. the drag of his cock against your walls is enough to have you moaning, your head falling back against the pillow.
“that’s it,” he murmurs, his voice rough and approving as he sets a steady rhythm. “good girl. taking me so well.”
your hands trail down his back, your nails scraping lightly against his skin, and the groan he lets out sends a fresh wave of heat through you. his movements quicken, the sound of skin against skin filling the room, and every thrust has him hitting that perfect spot deep inside you, making you cry out.
“satoru—” his name falls from your lips again, and he leans down, his teeth grazing your neck as he thrusts harder, deeper.
“you’re gonna make me lose my fucking mind,” he growls, his hands gripping your hips tighter, holding you in place as he drives into you. “you feel so good—so fucking perfect for me.”
the coil in your stomach tightens with every roll of his hips, the pressure building higher and higher until it’s unbearable. his thumb finds your clit, rubbing in tight circles that make your vision blur, and your moans grow louder, more desperate.
“come for me,” he demands, his voice rough and low in your ear. “let me feel you.”
the command sends you over the edge. your orgasm rips through you, your body arching into his as you cry out, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer. your walls clench around him, and the sensation makes him groan, his thrusts growing erratic as he chases his own release.
“fuck—” he gasps, burying himself as deep as he can go as he comes, the heat of him spilling into you, thick and warm. his head falls to your shoulder, his breath ragged against your skin as he rides out the last waves of pleasure.
the room is quiet except for the sound of your heavy breathing, the air thick and charged as he finally pulls back, his weight pressing into you as he collapses onto the bed beside you. his arm slides around your waist, pulling you against his chest as he presses a soft, lazy kiss to your temple.
“told you i’d make it fit,” he murmurs, his voice still rough, but there’s a hint of smugness there, his lips curving into a small grin.
you can’t help the laugh that escapes you, your body still trembling against his. “you’re such an asshole.”
“yeah,” he agrees, his tone light, teasing, as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. “but you like it.”
you roll your eyes, but there’s no heat to it, your lips curving into a faint smile as you bury your face against his chest. “shut up, satoru.”
“never,” he replies, and the warmth of his laughter vibrates through you, grounding you as your breaths slowly even out.
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an. gojo with glasses... *hnnggghh*
DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!
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merlucide · 1 month ago
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BLLK TEAM SPOTTING YOU IN THE CROWD!
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notes: hahahahehajajsj I’m SO excited for this guys- the new episode had me TWEAKING.
characters: Isagi, Rin, Bachira, Chigiri, Nagi, Karasu, Otoya, Yukimiya, Niko, Gagamaru, Aryu, Reo, Barou, Hiori, Shidou
warnings: reading the same thing over again but in a different font LMAO, cringe but WHO gaf??, y/n glazing (help😭💀)
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You and your friend managed to snag close seats for the Blue Lock vs. U-20 match, and you could BARELY contain your excitement!!—especially because your beloved boyfriend was playing. You both were decked out in all blue, sticking out from the white and red crowd. The odds were stacked against him and his team, but you had complete confidence that they would hold their own. As you settled into your seats, the teams made their way onto the field. The moment you spotted your boyfriend, you and your friend screamed your heads off, cheering as loud as you could. The game was going great so far; at halftime, the score was 2-1, with Blue Lock in the lead! The players were standing around on the field, catching their breath, when he finally spotted you in the crowd, screaming + waving your arms wildly.
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ISAGI YOICHI
He’s like ehh?!? You came?!? To watch him?!? For reals?!
Gets all touched lmao 😭
Waves back with a big ol smile :3
Means a lot because you cheered for him when he was nobody 🥹 AND now he’s playing against THE U-20 aaaa
Yells ‘HIIIII’
-Bachira wiggles his eyebrows at him 😏 -which makes him all blushy and pushes him off him lol
Que bachira going ‘ooooooo isagi’s gotta s/ooooooo 🤭😏’
So embarrassed hehe
Blows you a little kiss when nobody’s looking tho :3
RIN ITOSHI
He didn’t think you’d come tbh
Feels proud that you did tho! not that he’d let you know ofc
He gave you a little wave and called it good (he has to remain mysterious- especially in front of Sae!!)
He’s very conflicted if he’s glad you came or if wishes you didn’t lmao 💀
Bc when he heard ‘Woah- They’re cute’ from his teammates he snapped his head over
“They’re taken, back off scum.” He’ll snap
Everyone’s sorta like ?? RIN PULLED SOMEONE?? 
Que immediate questioning
‘HOW DID YOU GET A S/O BEFORE I DID?!’ ‘I feel bad for them..’ ‘DID YOU PAY THEM??’
He just tells them to shut up
smirking inside, heh
BACHIRA MEGURU
He’s like 😦-> 🤩
inside he’s like ‘OHMYGOSHTHEYCAMEEEEEEE! :D’
Screams your name jumping and waving his arms
‘Y/NNNNNNN ARE YOU WATCHING ME?!? Y/NNNNNNNN!!’
‘YEAAAAAAAAAH!! YOU LOOKED SO COOOOOOOOL!!’
You def go with his mom tho 😌
You and Yuu are screaming your heads off together- ‘GOOO !! YOU GOT THIS!!!’ ‘GET THE FREAKIN’ BALL MEGURU!! HES OPEN- GOOOOO!!!’
Shes very glad you’re supportive of her son 🥹<3 (live laugh love yuu)
He points to you and says to his friends ‘THATS MY S/O!!! :D’
and they’re just like ‘..cool buddy’
They’re trying to figure out how he pulled someone lmao
After the match he practically jumps on you lol- No sorry, he literally does and you both crash on the floor
Both of you are just rolling around screaming in excitement lol
CHIGIRI HYOMA
So embarrassed lol
Like ‘My family AND my s/o came?!” Help he appreciates yall coming but it flusters him!!
Especially when his teammates are making comments about YOU and his SISTER
it’s too much for him 🙂‍↕️
He made it real clear that he’s your bf tho, so no one gets ideas!!
Really happy you came though, especially since you were one of the most encouraging people when he tore his ACL <3
NAGI SEISHIRO
Didn’t even think you’d come- like the thought that you would come didn’t even cross his mind (go figure)
‘Oh, y/n’s here, cool’
Lazily waves back
Wants to tell Reo you’re here but remembered that they broke up  🙂‍↕️
Yuki goes up to him and asks ‘Oh who’s that?’ and he’s just like ‘It’s y/n’
‘..I see, who is y/n?’ ‘uh, I don’t remember..🧍‍♀️’
‘Someone important tho,’
Just sorta stares at you until the whistle blows lmao 😭
KARASU TABITO
Super proud n smug :)
Like ‘Heh, MY s/o came’
Super super happy you’re there omg, but ofc he can’t let that show too much 😌
Waves back ofc
He looks at all his teammates to make sure they’re seeing this
It makes him feel really special that you came to watch HIM play :)
Def a confidence booster
Gets a annoyed bc he knows you spent a shit ton of money for this lmao
🐝:’oooo who’s that Karasu-kun?’ 
🐦‍⬛: ‘Heh, that’s my s/o 😏’
🐝: ‘For realsies? :o’
🐦‍⬛: ‘Yup 😌’
🥷:He’s such a simp bro’
🐦‍⬛:’Shut up Otoya.’
OTOYA EITA
He’s low key tweaking on the inside tbh
gives you the frat boy ‘nod’ and the three finger wave 💀
Doesn’t even wait for anyone to ask about you he’s already going
‘Yeah that hot chick/person is my s/o, it’s aight’ to be jealous’
But they’re just like ?? How tf did YOU pull anybody bro??
Poses for you LMAO
Is def waiting for you to make an edit of him or smth 😐
Your friend is looking at you like ‘seriously, him?~_~’ I am that friend.
Will NAWT shut up about how his hella hot s/o came to his game
YUKIMIYA KENYU
He’s like ‘Oh! They’re here?! Really?’ :3
Calls your name and gives a big wave
Super happy and proud that you came :)
Laughs a bit at the your dramatic outfits but appreciates it!
Tells the nearest person who you are and a bit about cha’ :3
When you blow him kisses he catches em’ and cradles them to his heart >:)
got a side eye from Nagi lol
NIKO IKKI
SOOOO flustered lmao
pink cheeks n everything ><
whispers a ‘hi’ and waves a little wave back
Super duper excited n happy you came :3
Wants to impress you so bad now- lol
Really hope no one sees you bc he might just die if he gets teased
-which of course they do and what he feared happens lmao
ARYU JINBEI
a very stylish single tear falls from his eye
‘Oh dearest y/n, you are so glam for this, I cannot even..!’
Dramatically flares his arms as a ‘wave’ and sings your name
‘Y/NNNNNNNNNN!- are you ready for this historic momennnnnnt-‘
Poses elegantly for you, talking to himself about how styl this is
GAGAMARU GIN
Squinting like ‘Is that y/n’ - o -
then eyes wide like ‘It is y/n’ • o •
Jumps up and hits his head on the goal 💀 then proceeds to jump again
Waves both arms and yells really slowly ‘CAAAAAN YOUUUU SEEEEE MEEEEEE?’
Then proceeds to talk to you yelling his lungs out, he stopped when Karasu told him ‘shut up, they can’t hear ya’’
He stopped for a brief moment, then continued
 (after they get on field)
REO MIKAGE
SO happy. Like ‘🥹😁’ happy
Smiling the BIGGEST smile :)
Really, really appreciates you coming
Especially since you were literally the only other person aside from Ba-Ya that supported his dream
And! Speaking of Ba-Ya she was beside you in her usual attire, waving a little blue flag
Waves to you with both hands😌
Also blows you so many kisses ofc 
Afterwards he’s going to give you the biggest hug and the FASTEST smooch ever
BAROU SHOEI
He was hoping you’d come, he wanted you to see just how much more he’s improved 😌
He heard your cheers and screams when he came into field and that also fueled into his desire to crush Isagi >:3 like ‘heh, bet’
You were VERY happy with how he celebrated his goal 😏🤭 you spammed your camera lmao
Waves back at you ofc, he is a gentleman after all
When someone asks who are you he just says ‘My partner, y/n. Don’t get any ideas donkey.’
heh, 😏
Really appreciates you coming :) especially with how expensive tickets are oml
def forced you to let him pay you back lmao
HIORI YO
He knew his parents would be there, but he wasn’t sure if you’d come. Very pleased you did! :)
Chuckles + rolls his eyes at your outfits
He’s got a cute little smile on his face :3
Waves back at you and signs you ‘thanks’
Points you out as ‘y/n, my sweet s/o’ to Isagi
Brags to him too lmao
Like ‘Yeah, they’re like perfect in every way- but you’ll find someone who is pretty decent though, don’t worry ☺️’
SHIDOU RYUSEI (my man will always be included soo)
Lets out the goofiest, happiest laugh
points at you with two hands and yells
So pumped you came omg
‘SAE- SAE LOOK! THATS MY BABY! THE ONE I WAS TELLN’ YOU ABOUT!’ ‘I don’t care.’
Continues to yell out you asking ‘DID I LOOK COOL?’ or ‘DID YOU FREAKN SEE THAT?’
Blows you tons of kisses before he has to start again
everyone on the bllk team is genuinely confused how tf this guy pulled anyone and is concerned for you and your mental health 💀
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AHHAJSJEJES IM SO EXCITED BROOOOO
made Nov 9 2024
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nettedtangible · 4 months ago
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An idea I love is when the Foxes become a more well-respected team in the league, Wymack starts talking to them about being “role models” and that they have all these young fans now who look up to them. And Neil is just horrified.
Then the Exy league organises this like, pre-game warm up meet and greet thing where they do some drills and games with the kids of the local teams in the area.
Everyone expects to have to keep Andrew away from the kids but he’s actually fantastic with them. He’s blunt and honest but he does try very hard and they absolutely love him.
Neil spends the entire time running away from the children and hiding behind Wymack (he tried hiding behind Andrew but Andrew was actually getting along with the little demons)
Kevin hates it but the kids LOVE him, they think it’s hilarious how grumpy and angry he gets and they keep falling over themselves laughing anytime he yells. They keep asking him to “do the grumpy voice” he starts yelling in French and they think it’s just about the funniest thing that’s ever happened.
Dan and Renee are keeping the whole thing on track, actually running through the drills and teaching the kids with endless patience. Dan has a little mini me girl who’s like 10 and the captain of her team and just wants to be Dan so bad so Dan gives her a whistle and she’s just shadowing her all day, blowing her whistle whenever Dan tries to get someone’s attention.
Aaron and Allison hang back and only very reluctantly interact with the children.
Matt is the equivalent of a climbing gym. He has about 4 children hanging off various limbs at any given time and a little 6 year old has taken up permanent residence on his shoulders.
Nicky loooves it and teaches the kids all of bad words and gets them to play pranks on Kevin- which results in Kevin yelling at him and he and the kids falling over laughing.
One child seems to be really isolated and quiet. Neil sits with this kid so Wymack will stop yelling at him to get involved. They don’t talk at all but Neil gives the kid some gum and the kid manages a little smile.
Part 2
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futurefind · 1 year ago
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"Explain Nasuverse mage Rea w.o explaining Nasuverse mage Rea:"
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(Loose translation anyway:
if runes are used as supplemental magecraft like nails or screws, Rea uses them as brick n mortor for entire structure (and it WORKS)
unintentional (if unspoken) speciality in magical circuits construction and, with proper study, magecraft effecting the soul and outright Concepts directly
(FGO Rea absolutely works on an anti-Servant magecraft by targetting the 'thread' that allows that incarnation to have been summoned from the throne in the first place (ie via excising the cause and effect that allows them to have been summoned in the first place, for that summoning)
(Lesser example of this is FGO!Master subverse being incentived to develop 'artificial nerves' Mystic Code for when her Crest bs acts up, ie every rayshift, to mitigate how much it kneecaps her in the field)
she's an American magus that only spent time in Mage's Association for politicking/pawn reasons, and because she's so humble and friendly she has no idea how op any of her bs actually Is. she tries to explain/share it to people and it goes in one ear and out the next
#about // rea#about // rea (nasuverse)#tldr shes a Mad Genius whose ingenuinity is incomparable#combined with her semi functional crest and high quality circuits + her absurd precision = absurd mana efficiency ?#and shes 10/10 walking epitome of 'so fucking glad ur token moral mage fsr'#also she had patents as a TEENAGER and could easily hit Brand sooner than later (if by 'sooner' i mean mid 30s fgo 'reamom' subverse)#(n could def qualify as a Color rank w hcs putting her in yellow)#pettiest 'inventions' include mana batteries that gather mana FROM THE ATMOSPHERE rather than owner#and also electricity free barely anything civilian friendly (buttons!) climate control magical system#......and also how she she sees Mystic Locks as a CHALLENGE rather than a Guarantee n so doubles hers up w bio signatures#(n similarly has a v complex but precise home security system thats both workable for civ mom + wont murder civ theives LOL)#...dont ask abt the structure of her soul (see: crest bs) cuz its lowkey HIGHKEY /extremely/ terrifying + she has no idea ++#she has yet to at all work on processing the involved trauma At All and would def have a Very bad time if u pointed it out#([re opness] *+ her absurdist reaction times INCLUDING high speed reaction n even ADVANCED magecraft w said reaction times?? whistles)#edit: i even made an entire spreadsheet of the elder futhark + how rea uses them#even tho That level of detail is not just unecessary but counterintuive to nasuverses focus/reliance on Mystery#'the important is not the fine print just the How/What and (Broad) Methodology (mostly the former)' me vc: no <3
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boneblushed · 3 months ago
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And, boy, you got her
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synopsis Rafe’s in charge of the pledges during Rush Week. Hazing isn’t a thing. Making you feel so high school is.
wc 3.6K
a/n omgggg Euro Trip Rafe <3333 I was living on pledgetok last week and just couldn’t not write something about it
“Holy shit,” Noah mutters, surveying the crowd over his red cup, “I swear they get scrawnier every single year.”
Rafe nods gravely, taking a pull of his beer. “It’s fucking grim.”
“Like — fuck, look at those two.” Noah gestures toward the shaded veranda, a fresh coat of gloss making its balustrades shine. Huddled in one corner, attempting to take up as little space as possible, two boys donning UNC merch survey the crowd in tandem. “We weren’t that fucking scraggy as freshman, were we?”
“You two weren’t,” Kelce snorts, coming up behind them. Topper brings up his rear, mid-bite of his loaded hotdog. “Thornton definitely was though.”
“Oi!” Topper protests, his words garbled by half chewed sausage. “S’wasn’t that bad. C’mon.” He turns to Rafe then, swallowing his mouthful. “But seriously, you locked in any potentials?”
Rafe furrows his brow thoughtfully, looking back over Delta Chi’s yard. Unsurprisingly, it’s far too early to say. Though the barbecue that they’re hosting is a good way for pledges to mingle, it isn’t exactly hazing material; they’re going to have to get creative.
“Maybe,” he replies finally, shrugging. “We’ll just have to see I guess.”
He tips back his red cup again, swallowing the last dregs of beer before acquiescing. As he’s about to announce his need for a refill, a few pledges sidle up to their group, looking hopeful.
Not overtly, of course. Painstakingly hiding their eagerness behind an armour of insouciance.
“Rafe,” the tallest of the three greets, handing him another red cup. The golden liquid inside it brims to the surface, its white foam dissolving in mocking. “Hey, bro. You need another?”
Rafe raises his eyebrows, hiding a grin. “Shit. Table service already?”
The boy grins in tandem, looking a little sheepish. “Big fan, man. I’m Dylan.” He motions at the two guys on either side of him, wearing matching squints and backwards caps. “This is Rahul and Xav, we’re all here from Trinity.”
“Durham and Chapel Hill?” Noah enquires, whistling approvingly when they nod. “Fuck, we used to love having away games there. Those Trin cheerleaders…”
“Haha, shit, what was that chic’s name again?” Rafe asks then, a pull of mirth as he turns to Noah. “The one you messed around with in junior year?”
“Blake,” Noah answers, groaning in a mock-wistful sort of way. “They didn’t make ‘em like her at the Academy.”
Rafe snorts, sending the pledges a sage glance. “Nah. They made ‘em better.”
Noah raises his eyebrows, his brown eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, so we are allowed to objectify your girl then, Cameron?”
“Damn, so you’re tied down?” Xavier pipes up, his voice gravelly and low on purpose. Overtly masculine, like he’s trying hard to be red-blooded. “Your girl doesn’t mind you partying?”
Rafe frowns. “Why would she mind?”
“Uh,” Xavier balks, pulling at the bill of his backwards cap, “shit. I don’t know… like, doesn’t she get pissed that you’re constantly around sorority girls?”
“HA —” Topper laughs, and then he falters, thwarted by Rafe’s warning glower. “Uh.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Let’s just say Cameron doesn’t give her any reasons to be suspicious.”
“Because he’s obsessed with her,” Noah adds, unperturbed by Rafe’s expression. He pauses then, an amusing idea popping into his head. “Which means…” he continues, returning Rafe’s glare with a trust me one of his own, “you guys should be too.”
Rafe doesn’t trust him. Like, at all. He sends him a bewildered look, unsure where he’s going with this. “White — what?”
Noah ignores him. He downs his beer and crushes the red cup in his hand, deftly aiming it at the nearest bag of trash. “So,” he says, eyeing the three pledges with interest. “How serious are you guys about rushing Delt?”
“Pretty serious, bro,” Rahul answers, looking to his friends for support. “Think we got a shot?”
Noah throws his arm around Rafe’s neck, his strong bicep taut as he shoots them a grin. “Depends, man, I might know how we could figure that out though.” He begins to steer Rafe away from them, sending one last, faux-somber look over his shoulder. “Be right back, yeah?”
Rafe, whose bewilderment is quickly giving way curiosity, allows himself to be marshalled out of earshot without complaints.
He shrugs Noah off of him once they’re on the verandah, his features ever-bemused as he turns toward him. “The fuck was that about?”
“Bro, I know exactly how we’re going to haze these motherfuckers,” Noah replies, his voice lilted with mirth. “You know… without breaking any rules.”
The bewildered expression on Rafe’s face doesn’t acquiesce. “Okay… how?”
“Instead of getting them to be our bitches,” he answers, a mischievous grin making home on his features. “We’re going to get them to be our girlfriends’ bitches.”
Rafe frowns. “Bro. What?”
“Cameron, it’s perfect.” He swipes Rafe’s beer from his hand and takes a generous pull. “What do frat guys hate more than being called scrawny as fuck?”
“Uh. Doing assignments?” Rafe answers blankly, still frowning. He doesn’t have it in him to think too hard about Noah’s profferance. He’s on hour two of manning this boring event, hour four since he bid you farewell, and all Rafe can bear to think about right now is the imminent taste of your peach-scented lips.
Noah shakes his head. “No, dumbass. Being called a simp.”
“Wrong,” Rafe answers, “I don’t mind that shit at all.”
“You’re the exception,” Noah replies matter-of-factly. “You and Y/N have always been the exception. C’mon, I’m talking about us,” he places his palm over his breastbone solemnly, “mere mortals.”
Rafe narrows his eyes. “Fuck off. How would that even work?”
“We…” Noah pauses to think, a slightly furrow to his brow, “alright, I got it. We assign the pledges to our girlfriends, one by one. Give them a week to make a good impression — you know, carry their bags, buy them flowers, all that sentimental crap you love.”
“You really think the guys’ll agree to this?” Rafe asks, sounding reluctant. “I mean… I don’t know if I’m alright with a bunch of idiots holding doors for my girl.”
“But you’re an idiot that holds a door for your girl,” Noah answers, not missing a beat.
“Fuck off, White.”
“I’m serious. It’ll be funny. And look… if you’re worried about Y/N, I know she’ll find it adorable as fuck.”
Rafe shakes his head. “No way. She didn’t find high-school me adorable.”
Noah raises his eyebrows skeptically. “You’d be surprised, man. Besides, these guys aren’t going to be like high-school you. High-school you was a douchebag.”
“A douchebag who got the girl.”
“A douchebag who got the girl after he stopped acting like a douchebag.” Noah smirks then. “A douchebag who’d give all these fuckers a run for their money if he was pledging Delt this year.”
Rafe grins in tandem, stealing his beer back to take a big swig. “Alright, shit, alright. Harmless shit though, right? Chivalry and all that?”
“Harmless as hell,” Noah agrees. “C’mon. You really think any of these guys has the balls to make a pass at one of our girls?”
“Easy for you to say, White. You don’t fucking have a girl.”
Noah frowns. “What d’you mean? Aren’t we going halves on Y/N?”
“Holy fuck, Noah,” Rafe groans, almost spitting out his mouthful of beer. “If Y/N heard the shit you said when she wasn’t around, she’d probably kill you.”
“Nah,” Noah replies, seemingly unperturbed. “She loves me.”
“Well,” Rafe says grimly, crushing his own empty cup in his head. “She might do now, but she sure as hell won’t by the end of this week.”
The first time it happens, you’re understandably perplexed.
You’re en-route to your 9AM, bag strap denting your left shoulder, when a stranger falls into your step and swipes it from your figure. It’s a motion so quick and deft you initially think you’re getting mugged.
As you double back in bewilderment, he proffers, “you alright with this?”
“Uh.” You balk. “What?”
“Your bag,” he answers, readjusting it on his own shoulder. He seems earnest. Nervous, even. “It looked heavy. I can carry it to class for you, if you want?”
You allow a pause to take him in.
“No, I’m…” another pause, more of his demeanour on display. Backwards cap, crisp white polo shirt, smile lines exposing the ghost of a grin on his face. A familiar grin, the kind that pulls a soft, maudlin feeling from your ribcage. “Look, if you’re trying to hit on me —”
“No, no,” he interrupts quickly, his eyes widening in a panic. “Shit — no, don’t tell Cameron I’m hitting on you. I’m just…”
“Wait a minute,” your eyes narrow accusatorially, because of course he’s behind this chivalrous display, “you know my boyfriend?”
The stranger grimaces sheepishly. “Uh. Yeah.”
“Explain.”
“It’s… uh… well — basically, I’m pledging Delt,” he answers haltingly, self effacement juxtaposing his frat boy exterior. “Rafe’s asked us to be all gentlemanly and shit for pledge week, I don’t know. To you guys, I mean. Like… the current frat member’s girls?”
“Oh my god,” you groan. “No he hasn’t.”
“Shit.” He looks far more nervous now that he did five minutes ago. “He didn’t tell you?”
“No,” you grumble, pulling your phone out of your pocket. “No he did not.”
Rafe’s on speed dial. He picks up on the first ring, the way he always does for you.
“Hey baby,” his gravelly timbre crackles through the phone, the low hum of frat house chatter audible in the background. “What’s up?”
“Don’t even. You know what’s up Rafael.”
A pause. When Rafe speaks again, his voice is quick and placating. “It was Noah’s idea.”
“Of course it was.”
“Dylan’s not playing up, is he?”
You raise your eyebrows at the stranger then, assessing him faux-suspiciously. “No way. He’s doing a better job than you ever did in high school.”
“Woah woah woah,” Rafe replies, a playful lilt to his tone. “That fucker’s not calling you dream girl or something, is he?”
“Worse. He’s being respectful of my boundaries.”
“Oh shit. I fucking knew this was a bad idea.”
You shake your head in exasperation, trying not to laugh. The poor stranger’s still standing there at attention, your leather bag looking ridiculous on his arm. “Rafe. Tell me he’s the only one.”
“He’s one…” Rafe starts slowly, sounding sheepish, “of three. Four, counting me.” In the background, you hear Noah pipe up and add, “five, Cameron. How could you forget me?”
“You’re un-fucking-believable, Noah White,” you shout through the phone.
“I love you too, Y/N,” Noah sings, and then he groans, no doubt shoved to the side by his indignant best friend. It’s Rafe on the phone again, voice sweet and thick as molasses as he says, “they’ll behave, baby, and make your life easier in the process. I promise.”
“What?” You accuse, fighting back a smile. “Like you did in high school?”
“Fuck no,” he replies, the grin on his face audible. “They’ll be nothing like I was, sweetheart.”
“What?” You tease. “Absolutely insufferable?”
“And absolutely in love with you.”
You raise your eyebrows. “How can you be so sure?”
“They’re under strict instruction. Have a shiner waiting for them if they pull something funny.”
Another exasperated laugh bubbles out of you, and you begin walking forward again, motioning at the boy named Dylan to follow in your step. “Right. So the boundaries are on purpose, are they?”
“The respect, too. No being inappropriate and charming at the same time.”
“And why not?” You ask faux-indignantly. “What if I like being objectified?”
“Can’t have you falling in love with them, can I?”
“Hey,” you argue, frowning stubbornly. “That is not what made me fall in love with you.”
“It isn’t?”
“Well,” you balk, “not solely that.”
“You’re fucking sexy,” he recites devotedly, almost yells, and you can hear the collective groan of his frat brothers in the background. “Are you wearing those Lululemon pants right now? Point is, I’m thinking about your ass in those Lululemon pants right now.”
“Rafe, I was fucking kidding. Stop.”
“No you weren’t.” You know he’s right; you can picture that stupid smirk on his face. It makes your cheeks warm. Asshole. “You’re blushing now, aren’t you?”
“Anyway.”
“Anyway,” Rafe agrees. “No funny business, alright? Just lots of good deeds.”
Good deeds. You suppose you could get used to good deeds, the embarrassment of attention notwithstanding.
You let out a defeated sigh, halting in front of your 9AM class. “You so, so owe me.”
“I so, so love you,” Rafe replies, and it makes your pulse leap; you’ll never get used to this feeling. “See you later, yeah?”
“Uh huh. Love you.”
Dylan waits until you’ve ended the call before saying farewell, dutifully handing your leather bag back to you and giving you a mock salute. The way he does it, all sheepish and genuine with a charming smile on his face, makes your heart twinge in a junior year of high-school sort of way. You’re feeling sentimental. It’s sweet.
You’re reminded of Rafe before he was yours, stumbling over himself to win your favour. Confusing chivalry with courting, objectifying you in the name of flirting.
Insufferable, but sweet nonetheless. You digress.
The next time it happens, you’re ambushed at your favourite cafe.
A dutiful Delta Phi pledge has already queued up and purchased you coffee, handing it over to you with a blushing bouquet of tulips.
You raise your eyebrows at him questioningly. “Is that…?”
“Uh, an oat iced coffee with vanilla?” He asks, sounding nervous. “I asked Cameron for your order.”
“Didn’t ask me about pastries, though,” a voice behind you adds, rough and familiar with a sweetness around the edges. Rafe circles your waist with ease and pulls you into his chest, sponging a soft kiss to your temple before handing you a brown bag.
A glossy, Daily Bread sticker shines on its exterior proudly.
Your eyes widen in surprise, and you look up at him expectantly. “Tell me you didn’t drive back home for a single croissant.”
“I didn’t drive back home for a single croissant,” Rafe replies. He grins then, looking that same, sheepish genuine that pulls a maudlin feeling. “I drove back home for twenty.”
“Rafe. Why?”
“Because you like Daily Bread,” he replies matter-of-factly, like it’s obvious.
You shake your head in exasperation, tip-toeing up to press a quick kiss to his lips. It becomes less quick against better judgement. He tastes like spearmint gum and cold brew, the hand he has held to your waist tightening ever so slightly. Slipping under your shirt, massaging the soft skin he finds there expertly, discreetly. Too much for 8am on a Wednesday morning, sans coffee. Your face feels on fire. You pull away in a hurry.
Meanwhile, the freshman pledge balks at the exchange, looking out of place.
Rafe frowns bemusedly at your diffidence, only clocking the reason when you nod over at him.
“I’ll walk her over Ben,” he says, dismissing him. “You’re off the hook, bro.”
“Shit.” The boy named Ben grimaces; he needs to get his hours in, and doesn’t deem this a fair ambush. He scrambles for an excuse. “Right. Can I still give her the flowers?”
“Of course you can,” you beam, accepting them gratefully. You look up at Rafe then, asking, “And if I want to walk with Benjamin?”
Rafe grins down at you, disbelieving. “Do you, baby?”
“As a matter of fact, yes,” you say, wriggling out of his grasp. “He got me flowers.”
Rafe falters, his eyes widening in surprise. “Sweetheart, I got you a croissant.”
“Ben got me a coffee,” you hedge. “And flowers.”
“Y/N,” he placates.
“Rafael,” you echo, unperturbed by his exasperation. You take a sip your coffee. “I’ll see you later, okay? Ben’s ticking off a good deed this morning.”
Poor Ben looks helpless, taking the brunt of Rafe’s glare as you motion for him to hold the door for you.
“C’mon Ben, we’re going to be late.”
“But…” Ben pauses, his eyes flitting to Rafe nervously. “This is fine, right?”
Rafe sighs, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth in defeat. “Yeah, bro. You’re good.” He looks to you, then. “You’re unbelievable.”
You smile sweetly. “I’m wearing the Lulu leggings.”
“Oh I noticed,” Rafe replies, his blue eyes falling down your figure in slow, reverent paces. “It’s why I want to be the one holding the door for you.”
You roll your eyes. “Men only want one thing.”
Rafe grins. “Yeah. You.”
By the end of the week, you’re more used to the chivalry than you’re willing to admit.
You’ve enjoyed free iced lattes and filled your dorm with gorgeous bouquets, no door left unopened and no walk to class left unescorted. And really, every pledge you’ve come across has been pleasant and unassuming, albeit absolutely terrified of Rafe and therefore extra obliging on instinct.
They’ve even offered to do favours for you, got you into sought after Pilates classes and done last minute grocery runs on your behalf. It’s put you in this constant state of mild exasperation, like you can’t believe you’re worthy of this much love and chivalry.
It’s exactly the way you felt back in high-school with Rafe, and this revelation pulls lots of funny feelings from your stomach, from your chest. Feelings you’ve forgotten that are all yours and all his. Because it’s strange, having someone other than Rafe taking care of you. (Or Noah.) It’s strange because it makes you realise just how much he adored you back in the day.
These emotions come to a head at the pledge week closing bash, Delta Phi lit up with fluorescent lights in technicolour. Inebriation ensues, beer pong follows, and an impromptu DJ deck plays endless songs with heavy bass.
Rafe Cameron has you pulled close, as always, the taut muscle of his forearm pressing heat to your exposed waist. You’re a few drinks down and hyperaware of his proximity, ankles touching, thighs too, torsos close with your head resting on his shoulder.
“I think I like Dylan the best,” you announce suddenly.
“Yeah?” Rafe asks, kneading your skin absentmindedly.
You nod. “He’s sweet. Told me all about his girl back home.”
Rafe grins then, shaking his head bemusedly. “You’re such a sucker for love, sweetheart.”
“Hey!” You glare up at him faux-incensed, looking accusatory. “So are you!”
“Shhhh,” Rafe murmurs playfully. “Not so loud, you’ll fuck up my street cred.”
You scoff. “Since when do you care about street cred?”
“Shit, you’re right,” Rafe agrees easily, leaning down to draw your lips in for a kiss. He’s all patchouli and musk, beer on his tongue and unchaste intentions in his touch. When he pulls away, his lips are still an inch from yours, his voice rougher than it was a second ago, “I don’t care. Like, at fucking all.”
“Good,” Noah snorts from behind him. “‘Cause you never had any to begin with, bro.”
“There you are,” you say then, eyeing Noah over Rafe’s shoulder. There’s a mock accusatory expression on your face, softened by mirth and the alcohol on your lips. “Have you been hiding from me, White?”
Noah grins sheepishly, taking a pull of his beer. “Maybe.”
You narrow your eyes. “Tell me. When did you become worse than Rafael?”
“I didn’t become worse!” Noah insists. “He just became better. You know, after he got the girl.”
You make a face. “Smooth.”
“Hey,” Noah raises his arms in surrender, looking faux-somber, “someone’s gotta teach the next generation, don’t they? I’m committed to their education.” He raises his eyebrows then, a mischievous glint in his eye. “C’mon, don’t act like you didn’t love it.”
Rafe grins. “She totally fucking loved it.”
You aim a glare at the pair of them, failing miserably at hiding your amusement. “So maybe I didn’t mind it. Sue me.”
“Of course you loved it,” Noah says, throwing his arm around you and pulling you into his side. “You love Cameron, don’t you?”
You narrow your eyes. “Opinions vary.”
“You love me?” Noah tries.
“You fucking wish.”
“Everyone fucking wishes,” Rafe says then, throwing his arm around you too, your figure wedged between the pair of them. Frat boy sandwich, you think tiredly. If high-school you could see you now, you’re pretty sure she’d have an aneurysm. “Especially when you’re in Lululemon.”
“Rafe.”
“I’m kidding. Not really. They all love you, you know that, yeah?”
You look up at him questioningly. “The pledges?”
“Uh huh,” Rafe replies, raising his eyebrows at you. “This is what I was afraid of, you know.”
“What?” You ask, lifting yours in tandem.
“Everyone falling in love with you, like I did in high school.”
You scrunch up your nose at him, your cheeks warming in diffidence. “No one’s fallen in love with me, don’t be silly.”
“I have,” Noah pipes up unhelpfully.
“Shut up, Noah. I saw you talking to Georgia just before.”
Noah grins, pulling away and offering you a mock salute. “Guilty as charged.” He turns to survey the crowd, spotting her figure on the fairy-light lit porch. “Speaking of…”
And he’s gone before you’re able to tease him any further, leaving Rafe to guide you out of his side and into his chest. You wrap your arms around his neck, his hands exerting a warm, steady pressure into the curve of your waist.
“As I was saying,” you continue, frowning up at him playfully. “No one’s fallen in love with me.”
Rafe’s unconvinced. His gaze skates down your figure again, a tortured groan falling from his throat. “Have you seen you, sweetheart?”
You roll your eyes, face hot and self conscious. “And even if they have,” you add, “it doesn’t matter.”
Rafe raises his eyebrows. “It doesn’t?”
“No way. Because I’m in love with you, not any of them.”
Rafe grins then, a devastatingly handsome look on his face. “I’ll never get used to hearing that.”
“I’ll never get used to saying it.”
1K notes · View notes
ronearoundblindly · 4 months ago
Text
Big Pharma
Steve Rogers x doctor!Reader
Written for @stargazingfangirl18's Birthday Bonenanza--HAPPY BDAY, SIRI!--using the scenario prompt ~quick, frantic, secret sex in an almost public place + babe's hand over your mouth to keep you quiet~ and the dialogue prompt "goddamnit, will you just f***ing let me do this for you?" with free use kink for good measure. Why not?
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Summary: The extreme drug cocktail you devise to save Steve Rogers has one major side effect.
Warnings for smut 🥴, sorta dub-con because it's like sex pollen, F E E L S, Steve being the most chivalrous gentleman while railing you (do it for your country, babes 🫡), completely unintentional dirty talk from Steve but 😮‍💨 we'll allow it, Tony being Tony, and--as always-- terrible puns. (There are no mentions of any medical instruments, except an IV, which is not used.) MINORS DNI. This is a mature gift work; see my Light Masterlist for all-age fanfic that is fine for minors. WC 2k
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The constant photoflash burns into your retinas obnoxiously, and you’re not even the subject of the paparazzi.
Captain America is alive—all thanks to you—though he could easily have been six-feet under by now. The mysterious infection was so bad and spread so far, the drug regimen you administered constitutes one of the Avengers’ biggest Hail Marys to date, but it’s working. That’s all that matters…to the world. Behind the scenes is a different story.
As Captain Rogers turns to the next hand he must shake, his sharp blue eyes find you, twinged with a familiar fear.
This stupid event scheduled by Stark to boost morale, to show Cap is just fine and back in fighting form, has gone on too long. It’s happening again.
You worried Rogers might not make it when suddenly Stark showed up hours earlier than the initial, planned press conference—because, of course, there’s meet-and-greets, quick interviews, and these damn handshakes. He’s only gone so long between treatments for the last week.
You nod at Cap and make your way in the small crowd back to Stark. You tell him you’ll need a room, somewhere private to put in the IV, and at least thirty minutes to administer the huge dose. Rogers’s super-metabolism makes it necessary to use approximately forty times the prescription average for antibiotics and steroids. In theory, the side effects are well worth his speedy recovery.
Well, the only side effect.
Stark looks horrendously annoyed. “Can’t you just shoot him up with it and be done?” He doesn’t need your lecture repeated though. “Fine, there’s a greenroom thing over there, but you’ve got fifteen minutes at most, you hear me?”
“Twenty-five, Mr. Stark. He’s not a water balloon.”
“Twenty or he can wheel the damn thing around with him.”
You gulp in nervousness, but the problem isn’t Stark’s attitude. Rogers isn’t going to like rushing this. He feels shame enough already.
“I’ll make it work,” you assure the stubborn playboy. If he only knew…
“Good. A team player. We value that here.”
You have no fucking idea how ironic that is, you scream internally, but you follow him to a door off a back hallway, a room that shares a wall with the space all those people are gathered, and thank Stark.
“Oh good, he’s heard the dog-whistle of treat time,” Tony quips, and you swivel to see Cap trailing behind you.
He’s already made his excuses to step away, too. It must be bad.
You’re sure to pull out your props of a saline drip and tubing from your bag while Tony can still see, but you drop the act the instant the door clicks shut.
Cap take one step forward to flip the lock, immediately unzipping the fly of his iconic leather suit.
See, the only side effect of the drugs is Rogers gets hard, often, and can’t find relief from his efforts alone. Through trial-and-error, the clear solution has been help—discretely—from the only medical professional allowed around him until his condition improved.
Of course, he fought it. Of course, you wanted to preserve his dignity. Of course, you tried to keep it as perfunctory, methodical, and uninspired as possible, but the thing is, that didn’t last.
The more distant and cold the experience, the faster he became desperate and wanting again, and now you have just twenty minutes to make sure Captain America can hold out for hours.
Steve, you remind yourself. He prefers you not use respectful address when engaging is what he deems entirely disrespectful behavior. 
You need to get him off in essentially no time at all, so you’ve decided: go big or go home.
Bag tossed to the floor, you unbutton your pants and shimmy out of everything from shoes to panties, letting the longer tail of your dress shirt barely cover your modesty.
Steve looks dumbfounded. It’s bad enough he has to run to you for a handy every few hours, but this?
“Doc, no,” he breaths.
“I understand the procedure,” you say calmly, echoing his harrowing consent from that first night he needed you.
Steve’s brow furrows in strain. “We shouldn’t…”
‘We’ are way past ‘shouldn’t,’ buddy.
“Can’t ask you to…“ but he also knows time’s a wasting.
He’s already fisting himself, struggling to be the gentleman he never stopped being, which at the moment is a huge problem because both of you need to get through the day—you without losing your job and him without popping a boner on national television.
It’s your job to break him and break him right now.
“Goddamnit, will you just fucking let me do this for you?”
There’s a flat smack on the door.
“Do whatever the lady wants and then get back out here,” Tony yells from the other side. “Put us all out of our misery,” he ends with a grumble.
That is by far the most helpful thing Stark has said in the last week, so you mouth “see” and begin undoing your blouse from the bottom, giving Steve his first peek of you. His hand speeds along his length, adam’s apple bobbing in concentration.
“Here, I’ll make it easy for you,” you whisper. You walk to the far corner of the room, put your hands up, shirt rising over your bare ass, and face the wall. Your voice is soothing, pleading even. “Just take what you need.”
In some ways, you feel responsible for his predicament. You are the prescribing doctor, he isn’t in a relationship where a partner could assist, and he insists no one else know. He doesn’t deserve to be poked and prodded more than necessary, and you can’t give him any other meds in combination. None of it is his fault same as none of it is yours. You only intended to heal him.
Truthfully though, none of this is just about his release anymore, much as you’d like to dismiss your feelings.
You can’t deny, however, that each time the air gets a little thicker with tension, the body language a little more intimate. Steve has kept his eyes open, clutched your free hand to his chest, rolled his hips open, and thrust up into your fist. The greater the satisfaction of his climax, the longer he retains control.
“When this is over…I swear,” he grits out, getting closer word by word until his deep voice is right by your ear.
He tugs your shirt up to dip his fingers between your legs. “Been smelling you for two days. Can’t do anything until—” Steve growls, feeling how slick you’ve become in anticipation “—you’re ready for me.” 
His concern washes away when two fingers easily breech you to the knuckle and are immediately replaced by the blunt head of his cock dragging between your folds.
You didn’t expect him to give in so fast. You didn’t expect him to have known this aroused you. The idea he might want to continue, to go further, races down your spine, following the opposite path of Steve leaning into you. His forehead presses your occipital as yours presses the wall. The heat of him makes you arch in luxurious proximity.
Steve fucking forward to enter you in one smooth motion makes you forget to be quiet, but before the whole shout of ecstasy escapes, his hand covers your mouth.
“Shhh, Doc,” he breathes at the base of your neck. “Be good for me.”
That only gets you moaning into the seam of his gloves.
His hips start a staccato rhythm, a second of loud friction for each second of silent, fulfilling pressure.
Steve slips his still wet fingers under your shirt and beneath the cup of your bra to swirl a smooth pattern over your nipple. Instead of voicing your approval, you shove yourself back into him faster.
You notice the muffled chatting of Tony and someone else outside while your eyes roll. The slap of your skin against the Cap suit becomes the loudest thing in the room, but that’s not what Steve minds.
He pulls out and spins you around, pausing to see the cream you’ve created at the base of him drip to the carpet below.
Deep sea eyes meet yours through golden lashes.
“If I can’t hear you…” Steve hoists you up to his waist, threading one arm through the bend in your knee, spreading you wide and diving in swiftly.
Your body curls forward automatically to grasp at him and smother yourself in the leather of his shoulder pad. This pace is much faster, purposeful, utterly unravelling you. The position delivers more range of motion, all of the buildup and less of the noise, with the added benefit of his tool belt nudging your clit repeatedly.
Tony pounds on the door. “‘Bout done in there, guys? Let’s go.” How apt, the unknowing jester.
Steve pants, open-mouthed, against your temple.
You smile but can’t stop your own ruin.
A groan gets buried in your disheveled hair. “Are you…close?” His hips snap brutally. “Are you—“ he sounds wrecked “—you gonna…come on my—uungh.”
You tip over the edge, clutching him tight and fluttering for him in every way. The detonation of your orgasm burns red behind your eyelids like camera flashes, a dirty snapshot for you alone.
“Mercy,” Steve begs, gripping your ass to rut into you, desperate to join. His neck tenses as he spills inside you, pulse throbbing in time with his cock. 
He leans against you and the wall, his steady weight stilling your shaky legs. Slowly, your feet are guided to the floor and Steve steps away to wipe away any evidence of his ‘therapeutic treatment.’ His breathing settles much faster than yours, and by the time he’s tucked back in with his suit righted, you’re simply sliding down the wall to catch up.
He hurries over to the small vanity and mini fridge—usually ‘guests’ for speaking (or interrogating) wait here—to bring you supplies.
A box of tissues is set by your side.
“So…” he hands you a bottle of water “…maybe…dinner tonight?” 
You set the water down in favor of cleaning yourself, glancing up to offer a reassuring dismissal. “This morning was your last dose,” you remind him. “It should be over soon.”
Steve may not need this anymore, may never need you again, but he doesn’t miss a single beat.
“I’d like—I want to take you some place nice, but…” He chugs his whole water then quickly unclasps the glove on his left hand, rolling up his sleeve, veins jumping over a thick forearm.
“I don’t know what food you enjoy.”
Arguably, he knows a few other things that you enjoy.
There’s another impatient bang at the door.
“I—“ Your heart soars with the soft sincerity of his face, no trace of fear left behind, no hesitation. “I’m gonna need a minute.”
Steve stands, smoothing a hand over his hair. “I’ll lock it behind me…and, um, thank you, Doc.”
It’s the first time he hasn’t apologized this whole week.
“You’re welcome, sir.”
Steve flashes you a dopey smile and shakes his head. “See you out there,” he chuckles.
You can’t be seen when the door opens just enough for Steve to step out, but he makes a show of rolling the suit’s sleeve back down like he really did have an IV infusion, selling the lie like a pro. He keeps Tony talking while shutting you back into your debauched bubble.
Through the wall, you still hear “could you have gone any slower?” followed by a curt, “yes,” and have to stifle a laugh.
“What’d you do, blow a vein?”
You’re picturing an incredibly ironic look on Captain Rogers’ face.
“Just be grateful she puts up with us, Tony…” and their voices disappear down the hall.
His treatment may be finished, but Steve wants you to stick around. He wants you.
Would having dinner with that man really be so terrible? No. Not at all. Even the ‘worst’ of this situation has been a great fucking experience. You don’t want to give that up yet.
It seems you’re both addicted now.
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[Main Masterlist; Steve Rogers One-Shots; Ko-Fi]
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mostlysignssomeportents · 8 months ago
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Amazon illegally interferes with an historic UK warehouse election
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I'm in to TARTU, ESTONIA! Overcoming the Enshittocene (Monday, May 8, 6PM, Prima Vista Literary Festival keynote, University of Tartu Library, Struwe 1). AI, copyright and creative workers' labor rights (May 10, 8AM: Science Fiction Research Association talk, Institute of Foreign Languages and Cultures building, Lossi 3, lobby). A talk for hackers on seizing the means of computation (May 10, 3PM, University of Tartu Delta Centre, Narva 18, room 1037).
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Amazon is very good at everything it does, including being very bad at the things it doesn't want to do. Take signing up for Prime: nothing could be simpler. The company has built a greased slide from Prime-curiosity to Prime-confirmed that is the envy of every UX designer.
But unsubscribing from Prime? That's a fucking nightmare. Somehow the company that can easily figure out how to sign up for a service is totally baffled when it comes to making it just as easy to leave. Now, there's two possibilities here: either Amazon's UX competence is a kind of erratic freak tide that sweeps in at unpredictable intervals and hits these unbelievable high-water marks, or the company just doesn't want to let you leave.
To investigate this question, let's consider a parallel: Black Flag's Roach Motel. This is an icon of American design, a little brown cardboard box that is saturated in irresistibly delicious (to cockroaches, at least) pheromones. These powerful scents make it admirably easy for all the roaches in your home to locate your Roach Motel and enter it.
But the interior of the Roach Motel is also coated in a sticky glue. Once roaches enter the motel, their legs and bodies brush up against this glue and become hopeless mired in it. A roach can't leave – not without tearing off its own legs.
It's possible that Black Flag made a mistake here. Maybe they wanted to make it just as easy for a roach to leave as it is to enter. If that seems improbable to you, well, you're right. We don't even have to speculate, we can just refer to Black Flag's slogan for Roach Motel: "Roaches check in, but they don't check out."
It's intentional, and we know that because they told us so.
Back to Amazon and Prime. Was it some oversight that cause the company make it so marvelously painless to sign up for Prime, but such a titanic pain in the ass to leave? Again, no speculation is required, because Amazon's executives exchanged a mountain of internal memos in which this is identified as a deliberate strategy, by which they deliberately chose to trick people into signing up for Prime and then hid the means of leaving Prime. Prime is a Roach Motel: users check in, but they don't check out:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/03/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself/
When it benefits Amazon, they are obsessive – "relentless" (Bezos's original for the company) – about user friendliness. They value ease of use so highly that they even patented "one click checkout" – the incredibly obvious idea that a company that stores your shipping address and credit card could let you buy something with a single click:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1-Click#Patent
But when it benefits Amazon to place obstacles in our way, they are even more relentless in inventing new forms of fuckery, spiteful little landmines they strew in our path. Just look at how Amazon deals with unionization efforts in its warehouses.
Amazon's relentless union-busting spans a wide diversity of tactics. On the one hand, they cook up media narratives to smear organizers, invoking racist dog-whistles to discredit workers who want a better deal:
https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2020/apr/02/amazon-chris-smalls-smart-articulate-leaked-memo
On the other hand, they collude with federal agencies to make workers afraid that their secret ballots will be visible to their bosses, exposing them to retaliation:
https://www.nbcnews.com/tech/tech-news/amazon-violated-labor-law-alabama-union-election-labor-official-finds-rcna1582
They hold Cultural Revolution-style forced indoctrination meetings where they illegally threaten workers with punishment for voting in favor of their union:
https://www.nytimes.com/2023/01/31/business/economy/amazon-union-staten-island-nlrb.html
And they fire Amazon tech workers who express solidarity with warehouse workers:
https://www.cbsnews.com/news/amazon-fires-tech-employees-workers-criticism-warehouse-climate-policies/
But all this is high-touch, labor-intensive fuckery. Amazon, as we know, loves automation, and so it automates much of its union-busting: for example, it created an employee chat app that refused to deliver any message containing words like "fairness" or "grievance":
https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/05/doubleplusrelentless/#quackspeak
Amazon also invents implausible corporate fictions that allow it to terminate entire sections of its workforce for trying to unionize, by maintaining the tormented pretense that these workers, who wear Amazon uniforms, drive Amazon trucks, deliver Amazon packages, and are tracked by Amazon down to the movements of their eyeballs, are, in fact, not Amazon employees:
https://www.wired.com/story/his-drivers-unionized-then-amazon-tried-to-terminate-his-contract/
These workers have plenty of cause to want to unionize. Amazon warehouses are sources of grueling torment. Take "megacycling," a ten-hour shift that runs from 1:20AM to 11:50AM that workers are plunged into without warning or the right to refuse. This isn't just a night shift – it's a night shift that makes it impossible to care for your children or maintain any kind of normal life.
Then there's Jeff Bezos's war on his workers' kidneys. Amazon warehouse workers and drivers notoriously have to pee in bottles, because they are monitored by algorithms that dock their pay for taking bathroom breaks. The road to Amazon's warehouse in Coventry, England is littered with sealed bottles of driver piss, defenestrated by drivers before they reach the depot inspection site.
There's so much piss on the side of the Coventry road that the prankster Oobah Butler was able to collect it, decant it into bottles, and market it on Amazon as an energy beverage called "Bitter Lemon Release Energy," where it briefly became Amazon's bestselling energy drink:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/20/release-energy/#the-bitterest-lemon
(Butler promises that he didn't actually ship any bottled piss to people who weren't in on the gag – but let's just pause here and note how weird it is that a guy who hates our kidneys as much as Jeff Bezos built and flies a penis-shaped rocket.)
Butler also secretly joined the surge of 1,000 workers that Amazon hired for the Coventry warehouse in advance of a union vote, with the hope of diluting the yes side of that vote and forestall the union. Amazon displayed more of its famously selective competence here, spotting Butler and firing him in short order, while totally failing to notice that he was marketing bottles of driver piss as a bitter lemon drink on Amazon's retail platform.
After a long fight, Amazon's Coventry workers are finally getting their union vote, thanks to the GMB union's hard fought battle at the Central Arbitration Committee:
https://www.foxglove.org.uk/2024/04/26/amazon-warehouse-workers-in-coventry-will-vote-on-trade-union-recognition/
And right on schedule, Amazon has once again discovered its incredible facility for ease-of-use. The company has blanketed its shop floor with radioactively illegal "one click to quit the union" QR codes. When a worker aims their phones at the code and clicks the link, the system auto-generates a letter resigning the worker from their union.
As noted, this is totally illegal. English law bans employers from "making an offer to an employee for the sole or main purpose of inducing workers not to be members of an independent trade union, take part in its activities, or make use of its services."
Now, legal or not, this may strike you as a benign intervention on Amazon's part. Why shouldn't it be easy for workers to choose how they are represented in their workplaces? But the one-click system is only half of Amazon's illegal union-busting: the other half is delivered by its managers, who have cornered workers on the shop floor and ordered them to quit their union, threatening them with workplace retaliation if they don't.
This is in addition to more forced "captive audience" meetings where workers are bombarded with lies about what life in an union shop is like.
Again, the contrast couldn't be more stark. If you want to quit a union, Amazon makes this as easy as joining Prime. But if you want to join a union, Amazon makes that even harder than quitting Prime. Amazon has the same attitude to its workers and its customers: they see us all as a resource to be extracted, and have no qualms about tricking or even intimidating us into doing what's best for Amazon, at the expense of our own interests.
The campaigning law-firm Foxglove is representing five of Amazon's Coventry workers. They're doing the lord's work:
https://www.foxglove.org.uk/2024/05/02/legal-challenge-to-amazon-uks-new-one-click-to-quit-the-union-tool/
All this highlights the increasing divergence between the UK and the US when it comes to labor rights. Under the Biden Administration, @NLRB General Counsel Jennifer Abruzzo has promulgated a rule that grants a union automatic recognition if the boss does anything to interfere with a union election:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/06/goons-ginks-and-company-finks/#if-blood-be-the-price-of-your-cursed-wealth
In other words, if Amazon tries these tactics in the USA now, their union will be immediately recognized. Abruzzo has installed an ultra-sensitive tilt-sensor in America's union elections, and if Bezos or his class allies so much as sneeze in the direction of their workers' democratic rights, they automatically lose.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/06/one-click-to-quit-the-union/#foxglove
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Image: Isabela.Zanella (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Ballot-box-2.jpg
CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en
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k9wa · 9 months ago
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⟁ A BULLET A DAY, ft. BOOTHILL.
⠀ — where teasing, annoying, poking and prodding all fall under the same category; flirting.
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⚠︎︎ more mechanic! reader, gn, boothill being an idiot, flirting, suggestive, he has fake teeth to me, something about tension + leaving him high and dry is soooo ….
from this request !
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it’s a miracle, truly, how boothill manages to be so tempting and endearing yet so utterly irritating and infuriating at the same time. 
and it’s hot, sure, but that just makes it all the more annoying, leaves you frustrated and with an odd pool in your stomach.  
boothill managed his way into your supply of bullets, happily tossing back the brass casings like a simple snack. it was a genius idea at the time, really, giving him a stomach that can store ammunition. though had you expected him to chew on the damn things instead of swallowing them— you know, like he was intended to— you would’ve just given him a little side bag to save yourself the work.
you half hoped the lead stuffing the things would seep into his still intact brain, but chastised yourself for the thought soon after having it. you don’t hate him that much. your brain should check back and try the thought again in twenty minutes. 
“y’know what’d be real neat, buttercup?” boothill’s legs were kicked up lazily on your workbench as he sat next to you, waiting for you to finish a small modification on his revolver. “spikes in my boots.” he lifted a foot up, rolling his ankle a bit. “you know, them retractable ones. be able t’a have some real fun with those things.”
you snorted, his efforts to dodge his synesthesia beacon as entertaining as always.
“since when do i take requests?” you asked, eyes focused down on your work— far too used to his antics to lift your head anymore.
“since when d’you deny gettin’ to tinker with me?”
he brought his feet down to the floor and leaned forward on his thighs, the denim of his pants tightening around them. “what, gonna make me say please and thank ya now?” 
you truly wanted to reply, say it wasn’t a half bad idea and that you’d look into the upgrade. until he started shaking a few bullets around in his palm like they were fucking almonds.
now boothill noticed the clench of your jaw, and oh how he revelled in it. he’s fully aware how the crunching of brass and lead peeves you, ie. you telling him to knock it off an hour ago— (“it ain’t hurtin’ nobody, is it now?”—) but you’re just so darn cute when you’re ticked off. he’s gotta push your buttons just a lil bit. 
“somethin’ the matter?” the way his sharp teeth gleamed through that damn grin weren’t doing anything to help. 
he took a bullet between his thumb and forefinger, the shiny gunmetal digits pinching the ammunition as he held it up next to you. “d’ya care for one, sugar plum?”
fine, you thought. two can play that game.
you tore your attention away from the old steel revolver, finally turning to look at him. boothill prepared for an insult, one he’d tell you was ‘flatterin’ and all,’ but it didn’t come.
you leaned towards his hand, keeping your eyes locked with his that glowed a familiar and faint red. 
then you took the bullet between your tongue and top front teeth, gently pulling it out of his hands with your mouth.
his smirk actually dropped— you’d think someone stuck an infected usb into his ear with all the ideas that flooded the forefront of his brain, making his circuits just tingle with excitement. something about the hot single mechanic in his area.
you turned back to your desk, removing the bullet from your teeth and twirling it between your fingers idly as you gave a once over to his revolver, as if nothing had happened.
boothill blinked, chuckling gruffly with a shake of his head as he slumped back in his chair, flicking another bullet into the air with his thumb and catching it in his palm with a gentle clink! the cyborg gave a low whistle as he kicked his feet back up.
“ain’t you somethin’,” he drawled, earning a chuckle from you. “y’sure know how t’keep a man on his toes, don’t ya buttercup?” 
“i dunno what you mean, boothill.” you only offered a hum, willfully ignorant to boothill’s colourful imagination.
“oh i’m real sure y’don’t.” he shook his head, another chuckle rumbling his chest and sending a shiver down your neck.
“say,” he leaned towards you, his shoulder to yours, feeling a little lucky and dropping his voice to a knee-weakening purr, “if that pretty mouth a’yers likes metal, i’m more’en happy t’a—” 
“all done.”
all bets go down the drain. boothill deadpanned as you clicked the barrel of his gun into place and handed it back to him, standing up to stretch your arms.
“shops closed for today,” you fold them, leaning back against your bench. “you better get a move on before i have to kick you out.”
boothill’s eyes trailed up your figure, taking his sweet time finding your face. the cowboy raised an eyebrow into a cocky arch despite him swearing his body was on the verge of its cooling protocol. 
“you keep woundin’ me, sugar.” 
“i dunno what you mean, boothill.”
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⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?
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burstinn · 7 months ago
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THE EVERY GAY MANS DREAM READER
TALL, BUFF, BIG BOOBS AND ASS everything
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Can't find no good pic for this so..
This post includes:Ghost, Graves, Price, Soap, Nikto, Riptide, Krueger, Konig, Alejandro, Rudy, Gaz, Horangi, Makarov, Velikan, Keegan, Roach. In that order
Yes I wrote all those, yes because I haven't written in a while
Notes:
- NSFW and SFW (Bottom male and top male reader mentioned)
-since y'all like the big buff n' tall male reader, made him bigger and taller basically mixed everything I wrote about male reader, tall, big buff, big cake, big boobs it's like a package in one this will probably be the last of this type of reader since running out ideas. It was hard making original headcanons 💔💔.
-Omg I haven't written in a while so like this might get idk boring?
- Yes again headcanons,you're favs
- strictly MALE READER not Gn rn
- readers age is ambiguous but if you can't think and want an age for reader my thinking is somewhere near late 30s or early 40s
- Some of the HCS have where y'all ain't in a relationship some HCS have y'all r in a relationship
- these headcanons definitely are mischaracterized but let me pretend for a bit 💔💔
- Tiktok got to me now I have brainrot language, so Trigger warning wooohh braiinroot
- can't believe this post was long enough to make my phone lag just a lil bit
- When he first saw you of course he was 😦😧😮
GHOST
- Like okay overkill, like you're taller, buffer and probably have a huger cock??? (Something he can investigate.. For purposes..)
Like you also got smoobs?? A plumpy ass??
Like save some for the rest Jesus 😒😒
- Nonstop staring secretly ofc, You be like in a room then you feel someone staring just to see Ghost somewhere in the corner of the room. You can't tell if he's staring or not but being that you are in an empty room.. Yknow it's kind of obv--
- BUT if you are not in an empty room you will not shake off the staring I mean holy shit look at you like 😨😨🍑✋
- You can literally hear him breathing heavily under his mask like how can he control himself when HE a person who is supposed to be looked up to literally and figuratively now has to look up at YOU?? do you know what does to a person??
-That's right it makes them freaky..
-Probably jerks off to you too
- I mean who doesn't want to get railed by a 7 ft tall man? Especially ESPECIALLY when you've been the supposed dominant person your whole life??
- OMG immediately Cumming to the thought
- I mean he won't mind topping you it also drives his own ego seeing a dominant man get absolutely wrecked, imagine the begging and whining
- plus he won't mind being the person who feels protected not always doing the protecting like 💔💔 he wants to feel protected too 😞
GRAVES
- Immediate gay awakening
- thinks making his western accent more prominent would make you think he sounds more hot
- Will dress up as a cowboy and will will ask (beg) you to do it as well
- because you know.. Hat thing.. Riding.. Graves grabs your hat puts it on his head or Graves grabs his hat puts it on your head, either way one of you is riding something and it ain't a horse
- because of the amazing quote on who ever came up w/ that is "save a horse ride a cowboy"
- Graves is obviously the type of guy to look at your ass and whistle maybe slap it, nah definitely slap it
PRICE
- He thinks of you like a bear
- like You're soo- big and cuddly? Definitely intimidating
- I mean you're near the same age bracket so it's not bad to have some.. Thoughts right?
- You're definitely hairy underneath or not but pls be he wants pubes to tickle his nose
- if you don't have a beard for reader then he would KILL to see have a beard like aughh perfect bear look, if you have a beard immediately cumming(/j) or (not /j)
- Like imagine you and price who are basically like bears like parent bears and and you the other 141 boys are like your children 🥺🥺
SOAP
- DEFINITELY became more gayer
- errrmmm.. Like his eyes are BASICALLY near like chest height
- bumping into you and his face touches your chest like omgg.. Such an accident 💔💔
- Obviously flirting about going to pound town
- like imagine You and Him? In a relationship? Having the most feral sex??? Like it's obv jokes (it's not)
- He would also do anything to see a big man whimper like a little bicth slut, who wouldn't want to see a demon of a man roll his eyes back and whine like a wheoeororoe❤, I mean if he tops I'd imagine him saying "cmon you're a big boy ain't cha'? You can handle a few more inches". While you are also getting the malevolent backshots.
- He would also want a big strong arm to man handle him as he takes the most vigorous backshots known to man
- Have you ever thought or seen a very tall wall like 10 or 11 ft high and you being you, Soap asks (demands) for you to carry him on your shoulder because he wants to see what's over the wall
NIKTO
- intimidating guy and intimidating guy typa relationship but your not in a relationship.. Yet.
- watch him watch you
- shows off his knife collection to you, yes I think he has a knife collection and he will show it to people that he wants to impress (he wants to get freaky with you)
- I like to think if he strips off the gear he gives the most desperate kind of touchy hug, to those he feels close with of course which is you
- lucky you
RIPTIDE
- Offers to teach you how to swim yknow just in case
- there is none, he wants to see you wet
- tells you to wear a white shirt and shorts because its Essential for training, it's a lie he wants to see the water wet your clothes making it stick to your body.. Yknow the white shirt showing whats underneath and the shorts outlining what package you've been hiding even though you weren't really hiding it
- He gets too distracted, the others are too, he forgets how to teach you
KRUEGER
- indefinite eye contact while your doing it
- likes staring into them, if you get shy and look away he will grab your jaw and make you have eye contact with him
- angry fierce ahh eyes
- he's an emotional grumpy guy, rip off his mask and aggressively kiss his face
- He wants the after sex laying on the chest while the other is rubbing their head, goes both ways.
- trace his tattoos and compliment them the bedroom will be locked the whole day, trust 🙏
KÖNIG
- The same as Ghosts
- Imagine being the one to get carried instead of the one carrying
- König would definitely come up to you and ask to be carried while you kiss his face multiple times❤❤
- Imagine how hard he gets because you have to look down at him to talk like HNGRHRRGGGRGRRR
- Definitely likes giving you homemade arts and crafts gear because you know.. The headcanon where König makes his own gear and what if he does it for other people too as gifts💔
- likes seeing you wear his mask it makes him imagine what people see when they see König definitely a change of perspective. He can see how intimidating you are and he gets hard.
ALEJANDRO
- will definitely compliment you in Spanish when talking about you with other people even when you're in front or behind him.
- I mean you don't understand Spanish right?
- if you don't, you're oblivious and only just watch curiously on what he's talking about. Buuut but but if you do understand you don't tell him you undeestrand this thing literally feeds your ego like Alejandro thinks of you this way? 🥺🥺
- Thigh riding type of guy idc who thigh riding
RUDY
- everytime I look at him he looks like a soft vanilla type
- I know he's a strong guy but look at him
- He wants soft sex 😞😞
- He also likes being complimented if you whisper a praise to him when he's doing ANYTHING. Imagine the babies you'd both have together.
- He likes toddlers and babies and if you do too a plus for him,makes him fall even more 💯💯
GAZ
- One time he Got injured and was sitting on the floor and then He saw you running towards him he simultaneously screamed in fear and how hard he got
- Likes to style your clothes, If he was off the military right now he really really likes fashion and if he sees you.. You can't fashion and he sees you wearing.. That, He's appalled, horrified, mortified I'm over exaggerating. But he is now in charge of your fashion now, But if you do know how to style you both will share tips with eachother. You can share different tips too ❤❤
- drags you in his barracks and strips you of your clothes except shorts.. And he's telling you this because he wants to "style" you.
- We both know damn well that's an excuse to get the boombayah freaky on.. He's just to shy to tell you upfront or he thinks it's fun to tease you like that before you get freaky
HORANGI
- gets freaky..
- Like he understands the women who get all giggly and nervous when they see a big man who can destroy them (ignore König 💔)
- is definitely not above thigh crushing, boob crushing, face sitting he'd do all at as long as it's you
- Like one time he pretended he broke his leg and won't let anyone else carry him until you came, acting all princessy and shit as you carry him bridal style to the medics
- He felt like a prince omg
- will definitely get on you and treat your real life size anime men boobs as a squishy toy
- How long is it and will he be able to take it??? Who knows he will find out!! Basically searched how long can someone's cock be if they are built like a god and is 7ft tall in Google
- someone gotta tell me Horangi's height and basic Google searching ain't doing it for me I'm too lazy to search for one line of a spicy headcanon line mb
MAKAROV
- You're basically ascary dog he owns
- You're tall and intimidating
- You can get information out of people quickly
- And he's not above telling you to torture anyone with a strength and body like yours
- most of the time you get the info done and folded
- Makarov uses you for intimidation and strength buuttt if you ever THINK of betraying him he already has a plan to get rid of someone like you
- Can and will turn you into one of those supersoldiers
- Will make you murder people right in front of him for entertainment and will rewward you!
- you know what reward it will be, Because when he asked what reward you wanted you got a bit to freaky you thought you be dead rn but nah he agreed actually he seems to enjoy it more than you do..
VELIKAN
- He's the dog in this one have you heard his voice?? Rough as hell imagine hearing him grunt
- Sounds cocky as hieeeellll too
- Would definitely like showing off to you since he wants to look cool in front of you
- Like you seen velikans skins?? Definitely wears the best ones to show you he can not only be a trained assassin But can also dress cool as hell
- If you compliment him it like makes his day, will not stop thinking about it
- Like a cool person complimenting a cool person like him? Ego boost (It's him feeling gay)
- This guys definitely a smoker (headcanon!!) Because voice sounds like he smoked 100 packs in 1 day and doesn't drink an ounce of water /jk I love him he's so hot.
- So if you want a smoke he purposely hides the lighter saying.. 'Oh no I asked someone elses lighter.. I don't have mine right now' or like 'my lighter ran out of fuel ohh
- So you have to put the cigarette in your mouth as you touch it with his cigarette to light ur own that type of trope 💫💫
- If you're not a smoker he will try his best to not smoke in front of you will use fresh mints to hide his breath of smoke
- after sex he will want a smoke, outside he goes or you both share the one cigarette
KEEGAN
- is it wrong to want to be choked by a big buff meaty arm?
- yknow the tiktok thing where girls put a ribbon on their boyfriends arm and the girls just put their face in the middle as their faces get squished??
- Yeah he wants that but gay
- will try to compare dick sizes even though yours is OBVIOUSLY the superior one!!
- Heads or tails on who's bottoming tonight
- Would like to be wrapped around your arms if you are hugging or sleeping keeps him warm
- Especially when it's snowing will force you to hug with him. ESPECIALLY when your in a mission and your in the tents he will definitely force you to hug it out with him
ROACH
- remember the other tall HC where the reader wasn't taller than König
- yes roach does the same thing here.. He's crawling on you like a tree
- If he wants a kiss instead of asking he crawls up to you and kisses you
- definitely likes to sit on your shoulders as you walk around, he feels tall like that
- this is like a distance relationship 💔💔
- Likes it when you bend over to talk to him also when you bend over when youre doing sum since it's slappable opportunity
- because bent over = double D cake will be slapped
- How will it fit? By the power of friendship of course!!
- probably more of say gex desperation but you get it
- Obviously switch switch
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heeseungsbm · 6 months ago
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wet.࿐ ࿔*:・゚
park sunghoon
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₊˚⊹❥pairing❥: boyfriend ! sunghoon x female reader
₊୧ ‧₊❥synopsis❥: sunghoon was a horny mess being this close to you, you who had little to nothing on. the night under the stars was yours and his alone, and with nobody awake to watch, you could do anything in this pool. no one would ever know.
⊹₊ ⋆❥warnings❥: cuteee water fight, making out, fingering, unprotected sex, choking, marking, dirty talk, orgasms, finger sucking, creampie, mention of pregnancy/bc pill, fluffy ending ^-^
‧₊˚ ⋅❥wc❥: 3.9k
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🏷️ @totaladolecense @emowonz @purplelilliespurpleboba @deungiemypookie comment to be added₊˚⊹♡
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the only light came from the stars above. the air was heavy with the silence of the night, mingling with the sound of waves lapping against the sides of the pool as sunghoon swam in it. "baby, just come in," he whiningly called from inside the warm water, treading it in the deep end as he waited for you to join him. "it's not cold, i promise."
you'd been over at sunghoon's place for quite some time, the dark summer sky now reading 2am. despite the extremely late hour, just when you were about to head home he begged and begged you to stay a little longer to go for a night swim in his pool, an idea that was as tempting as it was absurd.
"i have no idea why i ever listen to you," you scoffed as you put your hand on your hip and stared into the gleaming water, scared of its temperature.
sunghoon's gaze fixated on you, and especially your body. he found beauty in every inch of your being, he loved all of you. he licked his lips as he kept his head above water, undressing you with his eyes as you stood before the pool stairs in your skimpy, black cherry-patterned bikini with red straps. the tight material wonderfully hugged your figure in all the right places.
"hey, let me get a 360!" sunghoon hollered from the water, his voice carrying over the sound of the splashing waves.
you rolled your eyes, but nonetheless gave him what he wanted. you slowly gave him a cute spin in place, posing and giving him a full view of your swimsuit. as you spun around, you could hear him whistling.
"damn girl, come here!" sunghoon called you again, this time swimming his way to you. he slightly stepped out of the pool and onto its steps, his drenched white blouse now translucent, sticking to his lean and muscular physique. he reached out a hand, with a mischievous smile on his face. "either this way, or i throw you in. and you know i will."
as much as you liked the idea of sunghoon picking you up off of your feet, you took his hand and hesitantly dipped your legs in one by one, squealing at the frigidity.
it was fucking freezing.
"fuck, it's so cold! you liar." you tightly squeezed sunghoon's hand as he guided you down the steps into the pool, the cold surface rising just below your chest as you stood on your tippy toes, making your teeth chatter.
"grab onto me," he tells you, laughing as he watched you shake from the cold. "i'll warm you up."
you grasped onto sunghoon by his soaked long sleeve and placed your hands on his broad shoulders. he gripped your thighs underwater, helping you wrap your legs tightly around his waist.
you couldn't resist the shared giggles with him as he began to move back into the pool, his strong arms keeping you afloat as your body latched onto him. the water gradually began to feel warm, the coolness between your bodies underwater creating a delicious contrast.
"okay, it's not that bad," you admit, staring sunghoon deep in his dark eyes. "it's kind of nice being out here with you, hoonie."
he raised one of his thick eyebrows, unconvinced by your nonchalant comment. "kind of? all of that giggling you're doing, you seem to love it. don't lie."
and truthfully, you did. but most of all, you really loved how he looked right now. his wet, black hair chicly covering his face, the moonlight enhancing his fairness as water droplets dripped down his pretty pale skin. "you're so cute," you moved sunghoon's hair out of the way to reveal his forehead, smiling as you admired his wet features. "i can't wait for my kids to have this perfect face," you smiled, playfully poking his nose.
"i'd be happier if they came out looking like their beautiful mommy," sunghoon smirked, his eyes wandering down to your chest as he held you close. "i can't wait to put kids in you."
"too bad that's not happening.. any time soon!" you splashed a wave of water into his face, making him drop you into the pool. you burst into laughter watching the water cascade down his surprised expression, he looked like a cute little lost wet puppy.
"oh, it's on!" sunghoon exclaimed, retaliating by scooping up a handful of water and flinging it at you, you gasped in surprise as it hit you square in the face. the playfulness between the two of you escalated as you and sunghoon splashed huge amounts of water back and forth, giggles and laughter filling the pool's atmosphere as you tried to outdo each other.
"stop it hoon, my hair!" you screamed, shielding yourself with your hands to avoid a large wave he launched in your direction. "okay, okay!"
"you're going down, pretty girl!" sunghoon yelled from a few feet away, completely ignoring your plea and lunging forward to splash more water in your direction.
"in your dreams, pretty boy!" you shouted back, jumping onto his back and tackling him into the water. the impact of your tackle sent both of you underwater for a moment, before you resurfaced, gasping for air and sputtering with laughter.
sunghoon surfaced next to you, his hair plastered to his face blocking his eyesight. "cheater!" he accused you, spitting out a mouthful of water. but before you could respond, his strong hands gripped the underside of your thighs and picked you up again, fluidly carrying you through the water to the 3-foot end.
he pinned you against the cool tiles of the pool wall, his body in between your legs that wrapped around his waist once more. the chill on your back made you gasp, you clutched onto his broad shoulders for support.
"it's just the two of us out here, you know." sunghoon said softly, with a smile full of his pearly white teeth.
you were too busy looking up at the night sky, admiring the twinkling constellations dancing in the vastness above. "look at the stars, babe. they're so pretty tonight."
but sunghoon's eyes remained fixed on you, you're all he wanted to look at right now. "so pretty, like you." he whispered, his eyes focused on your lips. "i want to kiss you."
his words drew your attention back to him, you smiled and cupped his face with your hands. "then do it," you whispered back, pressing your forehead against his. "what's stopping you."
sunghoon took one hand from under your thigh and slipped it behind your ear, pulling you towards him to press a soft, sweet kiss on your lips. his touch was gentle, his fingers tracing small circles behind your ear as you opened your mouth, allowing his warm tongue enter past your lips.
the kiss was intense, but slow and perfectly passionate. your hands tangled in his damp hair as sunghoon took his time and worked his tongue and teeth in perfect harmony, carefully sucking and nipping at the soft flesh of your lips. the burning sexual tension between you rose as your mouths hungrily collided, licking and biting for more. you could taste the growing arousal on his lips, moaning into his mouth as you felt his warm tongue explore yours.
sure, you were wet since you were literally in water, but his dominant tongue nearly down your throat was making you wet elsewhere.
you felt sunghoon's fingers trail downward, finding the strap of your bikini bottom and teasingly tugging at it. he pulled away from the kiss with a bite of your bottom lip, his dark eyes looking you in your soul. "i really like this swimsuit on you, but you'd look better without it."
"you can," you murmured permission just a breath away from his lips, "you can take it off."
he whispered more hoarsely, "gonna feel you first."
his hand slipped its way into your bikini bottoms, rubbing your pussy with ease underwater. you gasped at the feeling of his touch, grinding against his hand as his clever fingers found your sensitive clit. he slowly pressed down on it while he began sucking your neck, pumping a thick finger into your pussy at the same time.
the combination of his soft kisses on the sweet spot on your neck and the affectionate movements between your legs sent a flutter of desire through your body, making your knees go weak and wobbly.
"i want to fuck you right now, right here in this pool." sunghoon mumbled into your neck, adding another finger into your hole, his dick rising in his swim trunks at the sound of your sweet moans. "would you like that?"
"mhmm, need you in me," you gasped, traveling your hands to his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath the thin, wet fabric of his shirt. "want you to fuck me so hard, hoonie."
"i'll give you what you want, don't worry." his fingers finally slid your bikini bottoms down your legs, throwing them into the pool with a careless flick of his wrist. "i'll be right back, okay?"
"wait, hoon," you grabbed his arm in worry as he turned away, making him turn back to you. "where are you going?"
sunghoon's expression was surprised by your grip, "i won't be gone for long, i'm just running inside to get something real quick. wait for me here, okay?" he nodded before trying to pull away again.
but you tightened your grip on his arm, not quite ready to let him go just yet. "what are you grabbing? you're leaving me alone, in the dark?"
"i'm going to get a condom," sunghoon clarified, his voice low. "you don't want a baby, now do you?"
you shook your head no, pulling him back to you by his blouse. your eyes roamed over his body, admiring the way his top glued to his abs. you didn't want a baby, but you didn't want to wait any longer. "... maybe we can just... try without it."
sunghoon damn near froze in place, he couldn't believe the words leaving your mouth. you were always adamant about using protection, you never let him hit without it. hearing you suggest otherwise was unexpected, but he couldn't deny the excitement that was building in his stomach. "you—you want to try without?" he repeated.
you nodded and gave him the most seductive eyes, letting him know you were serious. "i want to feel you babe, without anything in the way."
sunghoon swallowed deeply, his throat suddenly dry. he could feel his dick hardening at the thought of being inside you without a rubber, he dreamed about this day, and how magical you'd feel. "you want to feel me, huh?" he stepped closer and towered over you, the height difference between the two of you more apparent. his hands moved to your hips, gripping them firmly. "are you sure, y/n?"
"yes hoon," you replied as you stared at his waistline, playing with the elastic band of his black swim trunks. "no condom."
"i'll ask one more time. you really want this?" he whispered as he looked down at you, his voice deep and rough. "you want me, with nothing in between us."
"yes," you whispered back, "i want you. just like this."
a small smile tugged at the corners of sunghoon's lips, pleased by your sure responses. he gently grabbed you by your hips, pulling you closer against him so that you could feel his arousal pressing against you.
"turn around," he commanded, his hands gently guiding you to reposition yourself at the edge of the pool. "wanna put one leg up for me?" you nodded, slightly breathless from the heat of the moment. he stood behind you and bent you over, helping you lift one leg out of the pool and place it on the coping, while your other leg stayed in the water. you felt vulnerable as you leaned forward, your bare pussy open and available to him.
he was satisfied with how well you listened, taking in the sight of you leaning forward, clinging to the edge of the pool for support. "perfect, just like that." his grip stayed firm on your hip, helping you balance in place.
he spit a good amount of saliva onto his fingers, bringing his hand to your pussy and smearing it around. he slightly pulled down his swim trucks and his hard cock immediately sprung up, his body knew exactly what time it was from the moment you started kissing.
he gave himself a couple good strokes, licking his lips before slowly pushing his cock inside your pussy. you both gasped in unison feeling him enter you, sunghoon closing his eyes and biting down on his lip at the immense pleasure, and you, tightly gripping the coping of the pool, dumbfounded by his unfriendly size.
sunghoon spit on his fingers once more, reaching between your legs and rubbing your clit in a circular motion as he picked up the pace of his strokes, carefully stretching you out. the sensation of being filled with his cock while his fingers played with your clit felt so good, so good that it winded you of air. you physically couldn't let out a peep, processing the stimulation your body was experiencing.
"baby, are you okay?" sunghoon asked as he brought your hair over one side of your shoulder, revealing your back for his viewing pleasure. he noticed you weren't making much sound.
"m' okay," you weakly responded with your eyes closed and head facing downward, still trying to adjust to his length. "s-so big, hoon, fuck.." his grip on your waist was firm and possessive, gently pulling you onto his cock. "you can go f-faster," you managed to stutter out, "want more."
sunghoon smiled as he listened to your plea, his thrusts becoming faster and more urgent. he could feel your body's response, your pussy getting wetter and wetter around him, your breath quickening and your moans getting louder.
"arch your back for me baby," he lowly asked, watching intently as you complied. his thumb then dipped into your lower back, guiding you into his desired position. "there you go, good." he bit his lip at how wet you were making his dick, his cock already glistening with your slick wetness as he watched himself disappear in and out of your pussy.
he loved the view of your back as you took him from behind, how the soft fat of your ass clapped against his hips as he picked up the pace.
you reached behind and grabbed ahold on his blouse, bundling the material into a fist and pulling his body closer. "harder hoon, please. right there feels s-so, good," you begged him. and he listened, using all his strength to relentlessly pound into you.
you were now screaming at the top of your lungs at this point, but you couldn't help it with how fast he was going.
"shh, i know, i know baby." sunghoon comforted you as he reached forward, his fingers coming to rest against your lips. "we don't want to wake everyone up now, do we?"
as much as he loved hearing how much you were enjoying this, he wanted to keep your precious whimpers to himself. his fingers found their way into your mouth and you sucked on them, moaning and biting against them as he roughly fucked your pussy from behind, waves of water violently splashing below at the collision.
he leaned down, his plump lips devouring your neck and leaving bruises of love. each caring kiss on your skin was followed by a soft suction, creating a pattern of hickeys that marked you as his.
"please hoon, don't stop!" you let out moans of encouragement as his fingers played in your mouth, begging and pleading for sunghoon to keep going. he was repeatedly hitting the most pleasurable spot inside of you, it was utterly euphoric.
"i won't, you feel so good." sunghoon groaned, feeling his balls throb and tighten already. he knew he was about to cum, but your pussy felt a little too good, he didn't want to let it blow yet nor he didn't want to pull out. you were so warm and wet, your walls gripping his cock just right.
you yelped as his hand suddenly wrapped around your throat, forcing your head to tilt back in his grip. your back arched further as he asserted his control over you, and you found yourself looking up at him from a vulnerable position, your breath hitching in your throat as his gaze locked onto yours. "you like that? you like taking my cock in the pool baby?" sunghoon asked you, looking down at your helpless expression with pure lust in his eyes.
you grabbed onto his wrist for balance, feeling every flex of his arm muscles as he continued to fuck you hard. "mm—mmhm!" you choked out in response, struggling to look him in the eyes.
he held your neck tighter, as he increased the pace, giving you exactly what you had asked for. your bodies pressed close, skin slippery and wet against each other. the sound of water blended with your labored breathing as you both sought pleasure and release. it was so romantic, the both of you dripping wet in every area possible, tightly grasping each other's bodies to chase your highs.
"uh, hoon!" you screamed, feeling him hit your cervix. he was so deep inside you that you started to see stars, and not just the ones above you.
sunghoon's rhythm began to slow as he felt himself nearing the edge, his body taut with anticipation. his movements became slower, each press of his hips against you becoming more intense and focused. his breaths came in hot puffs against your skin, each one shorter and more shallow than the last. he was close, holding himself back as long as he could manage.
his hand slid down your body, finding your hip again and gripping it firmly as he tried to control himself, maintaining the slow, deliberate pace. but the pleasure was building rapidly in his core, he knew he couldn't hold back much longer, and you could feel it too.
"it's okay, cum inside me hoon," you absentmindedly cried out, feeling him slow down. your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you shook, your body tensing as you coated his cock with your cum.
as the pleasure reached its peak, sunghoon and you both found release, your bodies shaking and trembling in each other's arms as waves of ecstasy washed over you. you held onto each other tightly, both of you trying to catch your breath and come down from the euphoric high.
you shivered as he abruptly pulled himself out of you, a mixture of your cum and his seed coating his creamed cock, his cum dripping from your pussy and into the pool. he collapsed on top of you in the delight of his orgasm as you caught your breaths together, planting kisses on your wet neck, burying his face in the crook of it.
neither of you said anything at first, simply holding onto each other as you both came down from the high of your shared pleasure. the only sound was that of your erratic breathing, mingling with the gentle water waves in the pool.
"come here," sunghoon broke the silence after shoving his sensitive mess back into his swim trunks, turning you back around to face him. the force of your climax left your legs trembling, making you stumble in the water. sunghoon caught you, steadying you against himself with a firm grip on your waist. "careful," he laughed, his voice low and gentle.
"that was so good," you panted heavily as you smiled at him, your voice shaky with the aftermath of pleasure. "you fuck me so good."
"because you feel so good." he tilted your head up by your chin and kissed you, a kiss that was full of tenderness and devotion, his lips moving against yours in a slow, gentle rhythm.
as your kiss deepened, sunghoon's hands roamed over your body, one of them squeezing your ass. it struck you, the realization that he had completely discarded the bottom of your bikini. you broke the kiss, pulling back slightly to look at him in disbelief. "hoon, my bottoms! where did you throw them?" you asked him, your voice a little higher than usual.
"oh my, i don't know baby..." sunghoon jokingly replied with a smirk on his face, his hand giving your butt another squeeze. "they just sort of, disappeared."
"you idiot!" you playfully pushed him backwards into the pool, a small splash of water hitting you as he fell underwater. he resurfaced in laughter, shaking his head to clear the water from his face. "hoon, it's not funny! go find them!"
he gave you a thumbs up and dove beneath the surface, swimming through the dark water with his eyes open as he searched for the remainder of your bikini. every time he came up for air, he shook his head and dove back down again, determined to find them. after several minutes of searching, sunghoon finally came up with your bikini bottoms clutched in his hand. "found them!" he exclaimed, holding them in the air like a prize.
you couldn't help but laugh at the sight of him, holding your lost bottoms like a trophy. "you're so annoying," you rolled your eyes, splashing some water in his direction.
sunghoon made his way back to you, swimming with a grin on his face. when he reached you, he picked you up and sat you on the edge of the pool, squeezing and shaking the excess water off the bottoms as he tried to find where the front and back were. "there we go," he smiled as he figured it out, slipping your feet into the holes.
you looked at him with so much admiration and love as he kissed your feet, thankful to have someone as sweet and caring as him. but you just couldn't get it out of your mind, how careless and irresponsible you two had just been, all for the feeling.
"hoonie, i'm not on the pill anymore," you admitted, the vulnerability in your voice evident. "we should have used protection, i'm... i'm a bit scared."
"right, about that." sunghoon's tone was more serious as he helped you step into your bottoms, pulling them up over your hips. "i'm sorry, i really shouldn't have done that." he looked you in the eyes, his gaze full of regret and remorse. he hated seeing you scared, he didn't want you to worry. "but don't be scared, we'll figure something out, okay?" he reassured you, his voice softened as he leaned in and kissed your cheek. "you're not pregnant, baby. let's not worry about what we don't know just yet."
he gave you a warm smile you nodded, comforted with his reassurance. but as the moment passed, your stomach loudly growled, reminding you of another immediate need - food.
you kicked your legs in the water, pouting at sunghoon with big, watery eyes. "hoonie... im really hungry."
sunghoon's heart melted as he looked into your eyes, unable to resist your adorable pout. he spoke in a gentle tone, realizing you must be starving. "you're hungry? what do you want to eat, baby?"
"a sandwich. and maybe... some chips... and... and a caprisun."
he couldn't help but laugh at how cute you sounded listing your specific cravings. "a sandwich, chips, and caprisun?" he repeated, grinning at your adorable insistence. "let's go inside then, i'll make you a sandwich and find the rest."
he turned his back to you, motioning for you to climb on. you happily wrapped your arms around his neck and jumped onto his back, wrapping your legs snug around his waist. he effortlessly carried you through the water and up the steps, thanks to his strong back.
"do you have strawberry kiwi?" you cutely asked, your mood lightened up by simply being carried by him. "the caprisun. it's my—"
"favorite, i know," he finished your sentence. "of course, i always make sure we have your favorite." sunghoon smiled as he walked out the water with you on his back towards the house, the both of you soaking wet with a strong scent of chlorine. "we're going to sleep good tonight y/n, that's for sure."
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𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗇��♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧
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this was supposed to be for heeseung buttt welp😞pretty please with a cherry on top reblog! (if u enjoyed!) y'all I'm trying to make it out the tumblr slums😭💕love you thank you for reading xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
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rainrot4me · 6 months ago
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Keep It Rolling
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Summary: You and your friend decide to see if you can find ghosts in an abandoned asylum as you record the whole thing. When you run into Hoodie, he thinks it’d be fun to record you instead.
Characters: Hoodie x Female Reader
SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI
TW: Recording sex, bad blowjob, vaginal, threatening with a gun, pussy slapping, size difference, forcing, gagging, stretching, cream pie, size difference
Words: 3.9k
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You spent your whole life filming everything. 
It didn’t matter what. Eating breakfast, going to the store, hanging with friends, everything was caught on your little camcorder. You had an internet personality to keep up with and feeding your viewers your personal life was a hefty job. But you loved it. 
So, of course, when your best friend messaged you about some supposedly haunted mental asylum twenty minutes off the interstate, you had to get it on camera. 
The mid-autumn breeze blew through your hair as you and your friend packed your filming equipment into the back of your car, shutting the trunk before climbing into the driver's seat. The asylum wasn’t even an hour away. But as you sped down the interstate, it was like the whole atmosphere had changed. The clouds were dark, the wind blew leaves from the trees, and this ominous darkness loomed around you. 
“Where did these rain clouds come from?” Your friend mumbled, scrolling through her phone and checking the weather which didn’t offer many answers. Brushing it off, you turned down an overgrown dirt road off the highway and searched for the building. If it did start raining, there was no way you were getting your camera out of the car. And if there was no camera, there was no reason for you to go inside. But as you drove further, an overgrown sign dangled on the side of the path. ‘State Asylum for the Mentally Insane.’ Charming. It was much farther after that that you could see the run-down building come into view, boarded up windows and patches of wall missing. The decorations of the building had all but disintegrated, but the foundation and skeleton of the building still stood strong minus the crumbling sections of walls. You pulled the car as close to the end of the path as you could before the overgrown plants stopped your path. Shutting the engine off, you sat and stared at the rolling clouds swarming overhead, judging if this was a good idea or not. Obviously, you knew it wasn’t.
“Shit, whole things coming down. Wonder how much longer it's got till it completely crumbles.” Your friends laughed, hopping out of the car and opening the trunk, slinging a bag full of voice recorders over her shoulder. “I hope we don’t find out.” You joked back, sliding to the back and grabbing your camera and backpack full of batteries and hard drives. The wind howled through the building, an eerie whistling noise echoing off the decaying walls that were visible from the outside. If you couldn’t find anything haunted in there, at least you’d get some good aesthetic shots. “I say we make a lap through the building and see if we can find any particular room that feels right to set up in. Y’know, see if it feels haunted.” They laughed, slamming the trunk shut and sauntering towards the entrance, a large dark door with shattered lanterns on either side. You flipped open your camera lens, filming a good shot of your friend shoving the door open and peeking inside. You quickly followed behind, skipping up the steps and peeking inside yourself.
The entrance was dark, furniture and paintings rusted with age and tossed around on the ground. Leaves and cobwebs accented the space, giving just the right amount of old and creepy as you filmed you both entering. The wind howled through the halls as you scanned each room, discovering abandoned medical supplies, facility rooms, and rows and rows of medical beds. All of it was caught on film, the dim lighting giving just the perfect balance with the soft glow of your flashlight. This had to get you views.
When you and your friend finally decided on a spot, a recreation room fit with a stage and tables, you set your audio recorders on the tables, little blinking lights illuminating the room as you pointed the camera. Your friend pulled out their flashlight, laying it on the table and flicking it on. You angled the lens, catching their face in the glow as they began to ask questions, the eerie quietness echoing their voice. “If there are any spirits here who are wishing to make themselves known, please do so now.” Silence. Besides the settling of the old floorboards, there wasn’t a movement or sound to be made. They tried again. “We’re here to do nothing more than talk. Please don’t be afraid to communicate.” Nothing again. You were growing impatient, switching your camera between your friend and the dormant recording devices, no lights signaling activity was being captured. Your friend groaned, holding out for maybe just some noise but ultimately flipping off the flashlight and scooping the recording equipment back into their bag. “Maybe we just picked a bad room. I want to try something though.” You flipped your camera shut, breathing deep and smelling nothing but mould and concrete. “And?” 
They shuffled the bag onto their shoulder, shining their flashlight around the disheveled room. “I saw on some ghost channel they split up and went to opposite ends of their hospital and got a lot of activity. Apparently, ghosts like it when you’re alone.” They smiled, shuffling back to the hallway. “Sounds good to me,” It didn’t, but who were you to say no to some good content? “Walk to opposite ends of the building and meet back in thirty minutes?” You both nodded, turning away from each other as you trudged your way to the farthest end of the asylum. 
You felt like you had walked forever, stepping down two flights of stairs until you ended up in what you assumed to be the basement. Random trash and unorganized medical equipment littered the floor but it was charming in a way, like the place was a relic of what it used to be. The damp air surrounded you, every step echoing off the concrete walls and recording beautifully as you flipped on your camera. Cobwebs hung in every corner, more afraid of running into one than running into an actual ghost, but content was content.
You set your camera on the ground, shining your flashlight at your face as you crisscrossed in front of the lens. The hall was silent, the dark corners sending chills up your spine as you couldn’t see past where your flashlight glow went. You settled yourself, breathing deeply before calling into the darkness. “If there are any spirits here who would like to communicate, please make yourself known.” Silence. The rhythmic dripping of water from the pipes offered some relief as you listened closely, but ultimately heard nothing. You sighed, trying again. “I am only here to talk. Please make yourself known.” Nothing still. It was relieving, sort of, praying internally that you’d find nothing as you stared into the camera’s lens. Shaking your head, you gave it one final attempt before you’d decide to head back upstairs. “If any spirits wa-” 
That was when you heard it. The loud thud echoed from down the dark hallway. Fear shot through you, quickly aiming your flashlight but seeing nothing that could have made the noise. “Hello..?” You called, picking your camera up and directing it the same way. There was no response. But as you went to stand, a very clear sound of someone clearing their throat echoed. You scrambled to your feet, realizing this wasn’t going to be paranormal, but some squatter you’d accidentally run up on. Your hands were shaking but relentlessly keeping the camera trained on the hall, staring intently for any sign of motion. Deciding not to press your luck further, you quietly stepped towards the stairs, barely reaching the railing before you saw it. The tall figure of a man resting his shoulder on the wall beside you and staring straight at you. 
A scream bubbled in your throat, panic building before he was on you in a second, his large hands shoving his over your mouth and holding your head still. You gripped your equipment tightly, panicking desperately as you tried to wiggle your way out of his grasp. That all stopped as soon as you felt the gunhead press against your ribs, nudging you to be compliant. “One word and I shoot.” He huffed, his deep voice reverberating against the walls. That’s when you could see him in the glow of your flashlight. He wore a ski mask that covered every feature of his face, but had a weird face drawn on. Tears rolled down your cheeks, realizing what a heap of trouble you were in. Whining, the man released your mouth but nudged the gun deeper into your rib, forcing you to the wall behind you. His gruff demeanor shakes you. “Explain yourself. Now.” He commanded, shoving the hilt further up. You panicked, quickly answering. “Uh- My f-friend and I came to see if we c- could find ghosts. I was making, uh, a video.” You cringed, holding the camera up as it was still rolling, capturing everything that had happened so far. The man jerked the camera out of your hand, examining it before tossing it to the floor, a whine escaping you as you watched it skid against the concrete. He leaned in close to your face, his breathing mumbled by the mask. “No ghosts, huh?” He towered over you, his large frame encapsulating you easily. You shook your head awkwardly, gulping as he pulled the gun from your side but quickly repositioned it under your chin, nudging it forcefully. “Sorry sweetheart, but I’m afraid this is as far as you’ll get.” He cocked the trigger, the noise sending a full-blown panic through you as you gripped his arm. “Please! Please- oh, God, I’ll do anything,” You huffed, tears pouring heavily. “Anything you want. Money, your dick sucked, food, anything!” You pleaded, face growing red as you shook with fear. 
The man leaned back, pulling his finger off the trigger as he chuckled. “What was that second thing?” He smirked, resting his hand on his hip but not letting that gunhead leave your chin. You blushed roughly, your words betraying you as you just word-vomited something to save yourself. “I said anything.” You huffed, gritting your teeth as you felt the cold metal leave your skin, sighing deeply. 
The man holstered his gun in the back of his jeans, sauntering over to your camera on the ground and scooping it up. He wiped it off, flipping the screen open before pointing it at you. You blushed, feeling awkward on the other side of the lens for once. He chuckled, stepping closer to you as he moved the camera to the side, staring at you directly. “Well?” He grinned, focusing his gaze back on the camera screen that captured your red face, the flash accentuating your features. His mask concealed his expression making you unsure if he was being serious or not, but you didn’t want to test those waters knowing full well he had a gun.
You awkwardly knelt in front of him, the concrete wall behind you cramping you. The truth was, you had no clue what you were doing. No boyfriends made their way around to lay you, so whatever you were about to pull out of your ass: your life literally depended on it. 
You fiddled with his belt, sliding it open before nervously pulling the zipper of his jeans down. He wasn’t even half-hard in his boxers. You palmed at the bulge awkwardly, glancing up as the camera stared at you, his face peeking behind and watching you closely. Growing in your hand, you tucked your fingers under his boxers and tugged them down, his large cock barely bobbing out. It was awkward, but you took the length in your hands and slowly began to stroke, feeling it harden slowly. This was good. Nervousness pricked at your stomach as you licked at the tip. You slowly pressed the now hard length into your mouth, getting as deep as you could before pulling back. Slobber coated the length, gleaming in the flash of the camera. You leaned back in, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock and taking the rest of what you could in your mouth. It wasn’t good and you knew it. Your teeth constantly scraped against his length. Not to mention any time the tip passed your tongue you were gagging back off of it.
He was growing impatient, the half-assed attempt at head making his head hurt. You felt his hand slink up the back of your head and grip a handful of your hair, slowly guiding your head back onto his cock. “Open wide.” He commanded, holding the camera lower to get a good shot. You hung your jaw lower, gripping his jeans quickly as you felt him press into your mouth further than you knew you could take. You gagged, straining to pull your head back but he wouldn’t let you, he just kept pushing your head further. You slammed your eyes shut, tears pricking as you wrapped your lips around the thick cock deep in your mouth. He finally pulled your head back, giving you a second to breathe before you snapped his hips back into your mouth quickly. You whined, throat choking as he thrust your head on his cock quickly. He held your hair tightly as he forced himself down your throat, practically face-fucking you and not giving you a second to adjust. 
“Damn, you got a mouth on you, huh?” He huffed, shoving the camera closer to your mouth wrapping around him tightly. You groaned, eyes rolling as you gagged each time his cock pressed against the back of your throat. It was loud and vulgar, the wet sounds echoing off the walls. He refused to let up though, groaning as he held your head back. “There you go. Keep that throat open, sweetheart.” He moaned deeply, pressing your head flush against him but not pulling away. You began to panic, gripping at his jeans as you choked, no air reaching you. He chuckled, cock throbbing in your mouth at the sound of drool gurgling in your throat. He finally pulled you off his length, a loud gasp escaping you as air filled your lungs. He pulled your hair back making you stare at the camera, your flushed face and slobber-covered lips shining brightly against the flash. “God…” He let go of your hair, pumping his cock into his hand before kneeling at your level. “Yeah, I’m not done with you.” He grinned, gripping your legs pulling them out from under you and landing you on your back. He crawled over you, nudging himself between your legs as he tugged at your shirt until it bunched above your bra. He hooked his fingers under the cups, pushing them up and exposing your tits. Hands were on them in a second, massaging and pulling at the mounds. 
Your whines echoed as he pinched your nipples, pulling them roughly and kneading the buds in between his fingers. “You’ve got such a nice body sweetheart. I can’t wait to ruin it.” He scaled the camera across your body and shot your curves well. It was incredibly embarrassing. 
He pulled his hands off your nipples, leaning back to set the camera on the ground and angle it between your legs, getting a good shot of your crotch. If anything, you were impressed with his familiarity with a camera. But the other half of you cringed as he unbuttoned your pants and slid them off your legs, giving the camera a clear shot of your damp panties. His fingers rubbed at the spot, his thumb pressing roughly against your clit and making you squirm. You reached down quickly, grabbing his wrist. That wasn’t going to happen. He immediately grabbed your wrists in return, pinning your hands above your head and relishing the way your body arched in defiance. “Calm down, huh? Relax…” He grinned, sliding your panties off your hips with his right hand and sliding his fingers up your folds, collecting your arousal. Pressing your legs open, he spread your folds the same, the cold air making your clit twitch. “Such a pretty cunt…” He groaned, spreading your lips and spitting against your hole, making you squirm.
He rubbed his fingers against your entrance, circling the area as you arched your back, silently begging for him to slide them in. That was when you saw his hand reach back and quickly slap down on your cunt, a sharp sting hitting you. You gasped, his hand slapping you again before you could even say anything. His palm continued to connect with your cunt, rubbing the area roughly before bringing his hand back to slap down again. You were a whining mess, every sting and slap making you so much wetter. The squelching sounds your cunt made every time his palm reached was embarrassing, your moans mixing and creating an insanely lewd noise. “God! Please…” You whined, squeezing your knees closer and trapping his hand against your cunt. He chuckled, giving in and pressing his fingers into your soaked entrance, a loud squelch echoing. You groaned, his fingers reaching deeply inside of you and curling just the right way. When he began to pump his fingers, it was all you could do not to scream your pleasure. Your throbbing clit ached as his fingers curled against your walls, each curl causing them to clench down. His thick fingers worked you open, your squirming body being easily held down by his muscled arms. Your orgasm came incredibly fast, your walls tightening around his fingers as they stretched your entrance wide and became soaked with your ecstasy. 
He pulled his fingers out sharply and brought them to the hem of his mask as he slid it up just above his nose. He licked his fingers of your arousal, smiling at you as he took them down to the knuckle. Your eyes frantically glanced at the camera lens, the flash blinding you as you begged the battery would magically die and none of this would be recorded. No luck. “Damn sweetheart, you think that cunt’s ready for me yet?” He grinned, pulling his mask back down and wrapping his hands around your ankles, pulling you quickly to rest your thighs on top of his. His cock was twitching and angry, the head pulsing as he pumped it in his hands. He let it rest on your tummy. You glance down, head spinning as you realize just how big he is. “Oh, I’m gonna be in there.” He chuckled, releasing your wrists to scoop his hands under your hips and angle them up. He nudged the head of his cock against your entrance, leaning down to meet his face with your as he breathed deeply. “Try to not scream, yeah?” 
Before you could question why, he slammed your hips down onto his length. The rough stretch and sting of him entering you so abruptly made you cry out, tears leaking down your cheeks. He didn’t wait. Either because he couldn’t or because he didn’t care. His hips snapped into you quickly, fingers digging into your bare hips as he forced your hips to connect with his. “Shit-” He was grunting with every thrust, heavily breathing behind the mask. Your moans and cries matched his, every nudge of his cock against your walls making your back arch and jaw hang open. It was dizzying. He was perched on his knees, holding your hips off the ground and fucking into you like some fleshlight. 
Every tug at his hands and pull at his jacket went unnoticed as you clawed against him, trying your hardest to find some stability as your body was being rammed against. Your cunt throbbed with every squelch and slap, your walls constricting around the thick length invading inside of you. The camera caught it all, angled perfectly to see every inch of his cock sink into your cunt as he thrust quickly. It caught every lewd moan, every slap of skin. The tears were rolling down your cheeks, the sting and stretch of him mixing with the absolute pleasure slamming into you. “Fuck, so tight. Gonna milk me dry, sweetheart.” He huffed, repositioning for a split second before angling his hips up to ram into your g-spot. You screamed out, hand reaching for your clit as you rubbed in pace with his thrusts up into you.
That’s when he grabbed the camera, angling it down directly at your cunt as he sunk into you quickly. “Cum on my cock. Yeah, let me see it.” He moaned, shoving your hand out of the way to press his own fingers against your clit, rubbing quick and rough. You slapped your hands over your face, eyes rolling as you felt your orgasm rushing against you. The masked man was moaning louder, little whines escaping his lips as his own pace became sloppy. “Cum all over me, sweetheart.” He groaned. It sent you over, waves of pleasure crashing into you quickly as he refused to let off of your clit. You screamed out, arching your back against his fingers as he rubbed your orgasm out. Walls around his cock constricted, milking him as he held the camera close, the flash catching every drop of sweat and arousal that mixed on you. He bottomed out against you, moaning loudly as he released deep into your cunt. 
The room went quiet apart from your panting. The camera caught it all, each pulse of his cock as he filled you full, your hands gripping tightly against his wrist as he held his thumb over your clit. He slowly pulled out, hissing as you felt the stretch of him. When his head popped out, he moved the camera down, catching every second as his seed leaked out of you. “Did so good sweetheart. Took me so good.” He huffed, sliding his fingers through your folds and spreading his release across your cunt, making you squirm. He pressed his fingers into your swallowed entrance, pressing his seed back in. When he pulled them out, he flipped the camera shut, turning the flash off and setting it back on the ground. 
Finding your panties, he slid them back on you and relished as he watched them soak darker. He helped you button your pants back, pulling your shirt down and helping you stand. Handing you the camera, he laughed at your hazy expression, your heavy eyes and swollen cheeks evident of your fucked out cunt. “Thanks, sweetheart, now run along before I change my mind.” He huffed, turning back to the dark hallway and waving you off. “Good luck with your ghosts.” You nodded, frantically turning back to the steps and rushing up to the fresh air. It hadn’t been long, but as you listened closely and heard the sound of heavy rain, you trudged to the other side of the asylum and found your friend just as hopeless as you left them.
“Did you find anything? I had a whole lot of nothing.” They sighed, leading you to the entrance and out to the car as you tried to hide your equipment from the rain. “Nah. Nothing interesting.” You sighed, climbing into the driver's seat and speeding off back down the dirt path. 
When you eventually made it home, you sprinted to your laptop and shoved the SD card in, loading up the video. Your hand covered your mouth as you watched the scene unfold, arousal growing in your pants again as you felt the leak of the masked man’s seed against your folds. 
The video played through, every squelch and moan sending shivers through you as your hand slid down between your legs, rubbing lazily as you rewatched his cock sink inside of you. 
You’d have to go ghost hunting more often.
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