IM SO HAPPY
I START WORKING SOON I GRADUATE SOON I START COLLEGE SOON
IM GONNA GRADUATE IN THREE YEARS W MY BEST FRIEND AND EVERYONE WHO MADE FUN OF MY PROCRASTINATION AND LACK OF EFFORT BC OF MY MENTAL HEALTH IN HS IS GONNA WATCH ME GRADUATE FROM PURDUE IN THREE MF YEARS
i’m finally doing better. it’s crazy how well i did in school before and now how well i’m doing after. couldnt quite put my finger on what but i’m different now. i’m healthier and happier and thriving.
THANK YOU UNIVERSE
successfully turned my friend into a heavens feel stan 🙌🏻🙌🏻🙌🏻
gettin needy with the bonten boys
FT. sano manjiro, sanzu haruchiyo, haitani ran, haitani rindou, kokonoi hajime, kakucho, akashi takeomi
aka half-coherent bonten brain rot from a slowly withering cat, fuck finals week
notes: most warnings will be right with the drabble for each boy, pls tell me if i mislabeled something, its 2 am and i've been studying for nearly 15 straight hours and my brain is only half functioning right. with that, i'm sorry if none of these make sense LMAO
general warnings: fem!reader, liberal use of pet names, heavy on exhibitionism </3 cuz i can't help myself
rindou — semi-exhibitionism, oral m->f, pussy drunk!rindou
doesn’t put up with it. the moment he sees you standing there, thighs subtly rubbing together as you watch him talk with ran and sanzu, he knows, and he’s moving over to you in an instant cuz he knows you, and he knows how you get, and he knows that once you want something, you’ll do anything to get it and he’s not tryna deal with that—he’d rather put it down before it even begins. he gives a half-assed excuse as he leaves his brother and sanzu, pressing a hand to your lower back as he leads you out of the lounge. doesn’t even bring you somewhere private as he lifts you onto a nearby windowsill, tugging your panties down before burying his face in your cunt. n y’know? as much as it’s meant to be for you, it’s also cuz rindou is selfish and he can only go so long without the taste of you on his tongue. he’s addicted to it like a drug and he wants his tongue deep in your cunt as much as possible, loves playing with your clit with the tip of his tongue like a toy, loves feeling your walls contract around his tongue n fingers, loves feeling your thighs spasm around his head as you cum all over his tongue for the second, third, fourth, fifth time, til your limp in his arms n he’s lapping at your cunt makin sure not to spill a single drop.
“taste s’fuckin good, baby, always taste s’good f’me. could live between your thighs the rest of my life, baby. hey, baby, don’t tap out on me yet, yeah? you can give me one more, can’t you? know my good girl can gimme another.”
mikey — thigh riding, EXHIBITIONISM
unbothered king <3 he doesn’t give a shit who’s in the room, who’s watching, who’s listening, if his baby needs him, she gets him, let’s you use his body to get off whenever you need. he sees you shifting in his lap halfway through the meeting with a rival gang (cuz he’s always got his girl sat pretty on his lap when he has to suffer through long meetings, cuz at least you make it somewhat bearable). he notices how your thighs press together tight, how you keep turning your head to the side so your eyes can dart back toward him. and he pauses mid-conversation, nodding at you, before going back to discussing the deal with the rival gang leader. immediately, you turn around in his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, burying your face into his neck as you rock your hips against his thigh, damp panties grinding against his dress pants. and maybe you should be embarrassed, yeah, cuz all the other bonten executives n the higher-ups in the rival gang are watching you get off on your boyfriends thigh but you can’t really pay much attention to that when you feel mikey’s fingers running up and down your spine, ghost-like touches that have you shivering n shuddering, when his free hand comes up to cup the back of your head, holding you against him as you let out muffled whines n whimpers into the skin of his neck. and you’re panting heavier, moans are getting louder, and mikey knows you’re close, and so does everyone else in the room and it takes all of their self-control to keep their eyes off of you cuz they know the moment their gaze slips from mikey, he’s gonna take the loaded gun resting on his free thigh and empty into their head.
“and why, exactly, do you think we’d settle for a deal so blatantly in your favor, hm? you’re in no position to be making demands of us. you’ve been encroaching on our territory for nearly two months now. you’re lucky we haven’t taken more extreme action because we… what are you looking at?”
kokonoi — semi-public sex, mirror sex, implied/threatened humiliation
he knows how you get when he takes you out shopping, how your heartbeat races whenever you dance out of the dressing room all dolled up in another dress he wanted you trying on for him, how your fingers tremble at your side when you catch sight of him leaning back against the couch in the lounge, arm slung across the back, eyeing you up like a piece of meat. and you know that it won’t be too long until he’s joining you in the dressing room because as much as you get wound up trying clothes on for him, he does too. and you can almost predict it—it’s always the fifth outfit in that he slips behind the curtain with you, pressing you up against the mirror, trailing wet kisses up your exposed neck, hands sliding up your sides, hiking the dress above your hips and grinding his clothed cock up against your ass. he brings one hand up to cover your mouth as his other works at the buckle of his slacks, freeing his cock from his pants so he can push himself inside of you, forcing you to watch as he rails you in one of the many ridiculously expensive dresses he intends on buying for you. and isn’t it so coincidental that the fifth dress is always the shortest? so when he’s got one arm wrapped around your waist, helping you walk out of the dressing room, all of the store attendants get a good view of his cum dripping down your inner thighs
“that’s it angel, look at yourself, look so pretty all dressed up for me, i just can’t help myself, y’know? but i mean… ’s not like your complaining, are you? look at you, soaked through your panties, dress all stained, what were you going to do if i decided we weren’t gonna get this dress, we couldn’t have given it back to them like this, angel… guess it doesn’t matter, now c’mon, angel, keep your eyes on the mirror or i’m gonna make you go hand this dress back to them after i ruin you in it, okay?”
sanzu — MEAN!SANZU, degradation, kind of manhandling, choking ?, mirror sex
you were tugging at his wrist n he was getting annoyed. you could tell that much at least but you couldn’t bring yourself to care because he was the one that promised that you’d only be at the event for an hour and it been well over three already. but sanzu had an appearance to hold up, y’know? so when you start acting up and ran starts making sly comments in front of mikey about sanzu not being able to control his bitch, he loses it. and you know you fucked from the tight grip he had around your wrist as he dragged you down the side hall and toward the bathroom. he doesn’t speak, and you know you’re in trouble because whenever sanzu doesn’t speak, it means he’s plotting, and a plotting sanzu is never a good thing. pulling you into the men’s bathroom harshly and not even bothering to wait until all of its occupants had fled at the sight of him before he turned toward you, grabbing your cheeks so hard that it hurt, squishing them together as he spit out a string of cruel words before he had you bent over the sink, fingers shoved down your throat as he pounded into you from behind, forcing you to watch him split you open.
“fuckin’ needy little bitch, aren’t you? pawing at me like a fuckin’ whore in front of the haitanis, in front of mikey? the fuck you think you are? think i won’t replace you with one of kokonoi’s sluts? at least they’re fuckin’ well-behaved. you happy now? only fuckin happy when you’re stuffed with cock, aren’t you? ungrateful whore.”
ran — EXHIBITIONISM, oral fixation, oral f -> m, implied edging f -> m, kind of humiliation (m)
you’re toying with a toothpick in your mouth n he’s watching you from across the room, flicking it with your tongue, sucking it between your lips, and youre watching him, eyes trained on the lower half of his body cuz you and he both know what you really want in your mouth. and who is he to deny you, yeah? so he calls you over, motioning to the floor in front of him, n you make your merry way over to him, knowing he’s going to give you what you want cuz that’s just how good he is to you, yeah? n you ignore the stares of the other bonten executives in the room as you drop to your knees in front of your boyfriend, fumbling with the button n zippers of his slacks tryna pull out his cock as he leans back against the wall and keeps talking to his brother n sanzu n kakucho n the others about business deals in roppongi and weapon shipments from russia. n he doesn’t even acknowledge you as you press your lips to the tip of his cock, pressing soft kisses up n down his cock before sucking his tip into your mouth. and you’re not doing it for his pleasure, he knows that, but he can’t help the shudder that rocks through his body when he feels you take him deep down your throat, tongue flat against the underside of his cock, bobbing your head up n down the length of his cock. and before long you’ve got him gasping, biting down on his bottom lip desperately trying not to lose control in front of all the other bonten executives—but it’s not like you’re gonna let him anyway, yeah? cuz you wanna play with your lil toy as long as you can.
“ah, fuck, throat s’fuckin tight doll, takin’ me so good. gunna let me cum, yeah? … yeah? need to get back to-fuck, fuck, c’mon, baby, don’t play games with me right now… not in front of all ‘em, yeah? that’s it, doll, just like that, j-fuck, fuck, baby why you gotta do this right now?“
takeomi — exhibitionism, praise, fingering
weak for you. always, always, weak for you. takeomi never had the heart to deny you much of anything so when you started pawing at his dress shirt trying to get his attention while he was talking to mochi and kokonoi, he didn’t hesitate to tug you right onto his lap, sliding his hand up your skirt to rub circles over your damp panties, resting his chin on your shoulder as he continues conversation with mochi and kokonoi, occasionally murmuring soft words of praise into your ear. he’s got you squirming on his lap before he even touches you underneath your panties and mochi and kokonoi aren’t even paying attention to you as you let out soft whimpers n whines and as your pants get louder and louder. youre clawing at his jacket, back arching against his chest, sweat beading at your forehead, gasping as takeomi’s fingers finally dip beneath your silk panties, running between your slick folds, nudging your entrance n sliding up to rub your clit. he’s pressing soft kisses to your neck, withdrawn from mochi and kokonoi’s conversation as he directs all of his attention toward you, sinking two fingers deep into you as he flicks your clit with his thumb.
“’s my good girl, yeah? gunna cum undone all over my lap in front of them? gunna tell them how good i make you feel? pussy’s so wet for me, baby, ‘m sorry for neglecting you so long. i’ll make it up to you, yeah? gunna make you cum so many times you’ll be beggin’ me to stop.”
kakucho — car sex, angry/jealous sex, choking, slightly mean!kakucho, kinda dubcon ??
kakucho is a patient man, more patient than any of the other men in bonten, at least, and he was not a jealous man, but when you start rubbing up against him at a club, whiny n pulling at his shirt, and the haitanis start making snide comments about him not being able to properly satisfy his girl, about how he should give them a chance to show him how to fuck a woman, it flips a switch he didn’t know he had. he’s pulling you out of the club and toward the car. and you think he’s gonna drive you home because kakucho doesn’t like fucking you anywhere but his bed, but instead he’s pushing you face first into the back seat, barely giving you time to steady yourself before he’s following after you, hiking your dress up and grabbing you by the hair and pushing himself deep inside you. and you’re reeling, because kakucho was your sweet boyfriend who never dared to be rough with you because he was scared of his own strength. but now he was bullying his cock so deep in you that it was stealing the breath from your lungs, that the car was rocking with each thrust and your eyes were knocking back as one of his hands curled around your throat. he fucks you through your first orgasm, second, third, fourth, until your drooling and barely conscious in the backseat of his car, letting out incoherent babbles promising that he was the only one that could make you feel good, that he was the only one that could fill you up so good, that you were sorry for being so needy in front of all his coworkers n making them all think he didn’t know how to satisfy you. and you were begging him to slow down, to give you a second to recover but he was too focused on chasing his own release, stuffing you full of his cum and sending you right back in there to face all of them with his cum dripping down your thighs.
“look at you, choking over your own words, begging me to slow down after pullin’ all that shit inside in front of the haitanis, making them think i can’t properly satisfy my own girl. got some nerve asking me this now, isn’t this what you wanted? ‘m giving you what you wanted babygirl, so lay back n take it, alright?”
I apologize in advance for this monstrosity of a post. But I have to get a point across here. Like...either Byler is endgame and is going to happen, or Will Byers is going to go down as one of the most tragic TV Show characters of all time.
Sounds a little like hyperbole, no? Well, let's just recap. This starts when Will is 12. Just 12 years old. This adorable, sweet, little, innocent bean here. Just keep in mind these pictures for future reference:
He's kidnapped by an interdimensional monster and forced into a dark, cold, lonely place all by himself. He's stuck in another dimension for a whole week, trying desperately to get out, wondering if anyone is going to save him, all while constantly fearing for his life. Alas, the demogorgon did get to him:
And, even after he was rescued, he was still puking up slugs:
All this is from S1. Enough trauma to last several lifetimes. But wait, there's more.
Apparently Will hadn't suffered enough, so they had the Mindflayer set its sights on him. And well, we all know S2 didn't turn out the best for this now 13 year old boy.
And if the mental pain and anguish and loss of innocence of having your body forcefully entered against your will isn't enough, they decided to heap on some intense physical suffering as well:
And to end the series, you have to have the monster literally burned out of you by your own mother while you're tied down to a bed.
Surely our boy has had enough right? Wrong. On to Season 3. 14 year old Will is mostly sidelined this Season, but he's present enough to get ignored by his friends and put down by his best friend for his "childish" interests, a fact that hurts Will so bad he breaks down and calls himself stupid before resorting to demolishing his childhood fortress. The same haven of safety that helped to save his life in the Upside Down. He's then forced to pack up and move from the only home he's ever known, severing all his friendship ties, such as they were.
Well at least they're gonna fix stuff in Season 4. So here we go, and...what? Excuse me....hmmm...okay. So I've just gotten word they in fact did NOT fix things in Season 4. We have Will, now 15 (or maybe actually still 14 since the Duffers apparently FORGOT HIS BIRTHDAY) so happy to see Mike at the airport for the first time since leaving town, get his hug physically rejected (when Mike has no problem hugging anyone else this series). He's then forced to third wheel and watch his best friend/love of his life have fun with his step-sister. He then LIES TO MIKE (something we have seasons of evidence that Will hates to do) in order to project his own feelings for Mike onto El because that's what he thinks Mike needs to hear. And he's then forced to help Mike "confess" his "love" for El as he stands there and hears Mike say that his life didn't really begin until the day Will disappeared?
Guys, even if you don't ship Byler, you have to admit....this is a pretty fucked up life in the span of 3-4 years. My point in posting all of this (and actually depressing the hell out of myself as I looked for all the screenshots) is if they really leave him like this, and Season 5 doesn't turn things around for Will...or maybe even somehow gets worse and they either kill him off, or force him to stand there and fake a smile while Mike and El live happily ever after....well then fuck this show.
They introduced us to this sweet innocent kid, made us all fall in love with his character, then treated him like their personal punching bag for four seasons. If they aren't planning on giving him a happy ending, that's just downright sadistic. After everything Will has gone through, they're going to make him a gay kid in the 80s living in smalltown Indiana in middle America, with an unrequited love for his childhood best friend? A fact that makes him feel "different" and like he's a "mistake"? Overkill for the sake of overkill. Trauma p*rn. And that's just the suffering they've shown us onscreen. Just think of how many nights laying in bed alone Will has had these thoughts about himself. Or desperately wishing that Mike felt the same way, even though he "knows" it's hopeless. Truly tragic.
Yes, other beloved characters in this show have been traumatized too, yes. But they've also all had sustained happy moments that the show has shown us on screen (for characters that were around for more than one season). Every time Will seemingly gets an ounce of happiness it's violently snatched away.
I refuse to believe that the show doesn't want to give Will a happy ending. There has to be a reason for his suffering. And yes, I think Byler is the only satisfactory happy ending. And that's not my choice, that was the choice of the showrunners. They made being in love with Mike his whole character in S4. Gay pining at its finest. Trying to intro a new love interest at the last minute isn't going to cut it. I'm not going full delusional like before. But I do believe that S5 Byler has a good chance of happening. Otherwise...it kind of taints the whole experience.
Enemy part 2 |N. Romanoff + W. Maximoff
Summary: a few years has passed and y/n has been feeling a little insecure after having her third baby and decides to surprise her wives once they come home. Wanda and Natasha then make sure that their wife knows just how beautiful she is.
Pairing: g!p Natasha x fem!reader x g!p Wanda
Warnings: smut, fluff, g!p Natasha and Wanda, unprotected sex, oral (Wanda and reader receiving), dom/sub dynamics, mommy kink, daddy kink, threesome, fingering, breeding kink, pregnancies, slight housewife kink, praise, dirty talk, orgasm control, body insecurities, pet names (baby, detka, princess, sweetheart)
Word count: 2107
A/N: this is part 2 but it can be read on its own without reading part 1.
I checked my hair from different angles in the mirror, making sure everything was in place where it should be. I applied an extra layer of mascara and touched up my lipstick, wiping the edges to fix it.
I stood up and ran my hands down my body, looking at the dark green, one-piece lingerie I had put on. The deep neckline showed off my cleavage, and the colour with the lacy, sheer fabric matched my skin tone nicely. I took a deep breath and nodded before giving myself a smile to boost my confidence. I heard the front door open and quickly made my way to the bed.
I sat down against the headboard before becoming unsure of my position. I moved to the middle of the bed and sat on my knees, but shook my head as it wasn’t quite right. I ended up sitting on my butt, one of my knees bent upwards as I leaned back on my hands behind me.
I watched the door nervously as I heard Natasha and Wanda’s footsteps come closer to our bedroom and I breathed in through my nose to calm myself.
“Y/n? Are you here, princess?” I heard Wanda ask loudly.
“Bedroom!” I yelled back.
“Where’s the kids?”
I watched as the door opened and saw my wives freeze once they saw me. Natasha looked me up and down while Wanda stared at me with a smirk. They stepped into the room, Nat taking off her jacket and putting it on the chair next to the door.
“The kids are with Steve, I asked him to babysit.” I answered the previous question.
Natasha stepped in front of me, lifting my chin up to look at her. “What’s all this, detka?”
Wanda got in the bed, sitting with her legs tucked under her before running her fingers up my side. I took a breath before answering my wife. “I wanted to do something nice for you two. We haven’t had sex in a while and I’ve really missed it.”
I bit my lip nervously before continuing. “I’ve been worried that you two aren’t attracted to me anymore… I mean, my body doesn’t look as nice as before and you haven’t been touching me like you used to.”
Natasha sighed before getting on the bed. She placed her hand on my stomach and smiled at me. “You are so beautiful, princess. God, if I’m being honest I would say you almost look better than you did before. You have always been gorgeous, but it’s a little extra now that your body shows that you’ve carried our three amazing kids.”
Wanda nodded in agreement as she laced her fingers with Natasha‘s, keeping their hands together on my stomach. “Three pregnancies will of course make some changes to your body, but as Natasha said, you are absolutely gorgeous. And yes, we’ve been keeping some distance sexually, you’re right about that. We just didn’t want to pressure you into anything, you only gave birth around four months ago so we wanted to give you a little break because we love you.”
I frowned a little. “I don’t need a break, I wanna have sex.”
Natasha gave a small chuckle. “Trust me, baby. It has not been easy for us. It’s taken a level of restraint and self control that we barely have. The amount of times we’ve wanted to bend you over and fuck you dumb or be buried between your legs has been too many to count.”
I smiled a little at her words. Wanda cupped my cheek and pulled me into a soft kiss before whispering against my lips. “You want us to fuck you, princess? Want us to show you just how beautiful you are and how much we love you?”
I nodded before kissing her again, making sure to deepen it immediately. She moaned into the kiss before putting her hand on my back, moving me down to lie on the bed. She didn’t pull away for a moment as she gripped my hair, keeping her other hand on my waist. The kiss was messy and desperate, being deprived of sex for so long fuelling the need for touch.
She moved down to kiss my neck so Natasha was quick to clash our lips together, moving her tongue against mine immediately. I moaned as Wanda sucked onto my sweet spot, leaving a red mark that would bruise later. Natasha pulled away and took off her shirt before unbuttoning her jeans, and once she stood in her bra and underwear she resumed the kiss.
Wanda kissed down my chest and sucked marks all over, their possessive tendencies and need to show that they owned me still as present as ever. She continued to kiss down my cleavage and stomach as far as the neckline would let her. She looked me over, touching the fabric of my lingerie softly before she moved to lie between my legs, kissing and nibbling the insides of my thighs.
Natasha pulled away a little with a smile, tracing my facial features with her fingers. “Pretty girl.”
I returned the smile and let out a moan once Wanda moved the underwear part of my bodysuit to the side so she could get access to my pussy. Her tongue gave small kitten licks, avoiding my clit to tease me. I looked down at her, lacing my fingers into her hair as I moved my hips to try and get her where I needed her most.
Natasha pushed my hips down and kept them in place as she placed her forehead against the side of my head. “Lie still, detka.”
Wanda’s lips wrapped around my clit, finally giving me what I needed as she groaned against me. “Taste so good, baby.”
Natasha smiled while raising her eyebrows suggestively. “Yeah, she does?”
“Like heaven.” Wanda answered before resuming her licking, making me let out a surprised gasp.
Natasha held my face while kissing around my ear, biting my earlobe and slowly dragging it down with her teeth. I shivered and let my eyes flutter closed, gripping the sheets as Wanda sucked harder.
“I think she’s getting close, Wands.” Natasha said with a cocky smile.
“That fast, huh? Guess she’s been pretty deprived then.” Wanda returned the smile before suddenly pushing two fingers into me.
My breath hitched and I gripped the sheets harder. She moved her fingers, not pulling them out but instead curling them upwards. She licked my clit fast while looking up at my blissful face, my hips bucking only for Natasha to hold them down.
“Oh god~” I moaned and arched my back. “I’m cumming~”
Wanda kept sucking as my orgasm hit, feeling me clench around her fingers. I wasn’t given any time to recover from my high before Wanda pulled away and I was thrown onto my stomach as Natasha got behind me and pushed me up onto my hands and knees.
She pulled the fabric to the side before shoving her cock into me, only having pulled her underwear down a little. I gasped and my eyes widened in surprise, my pussy still pulsing from my previous orgasm.
“So tight and perfect, baby…” she said in a low tone.
Wanda moved in front of me, her clothes all gone with her cock hard in my face. She held my hair while nudging the head of her penis against my lips to open them up. She pushed into my mouth, moaning at the warmth that enveloped her.
“Fuck~” she whispered before slowly moving in and out.
Natasha kept fucking me, pushing me forward and as she thrusted into me I took more of Wanda into my mouth. They both moaned out loud while my noises came out as muffled sounds.
“So good, detka~” Natasha moaned. “Missed this so much~”
I swirled my tongue around Wanda’s cock, feeling her hit the back of my throat repeatedly. She wiped away some tears that had run down my cheeks before she gripped my hair harder, moving me up and down her penis.
“God, I love fucking your mouth.” She groaned. “You love it when I use your mouth to get myself off, don’t you?” She smirked down at me and I nodded the best I could. She patted my cheek lightly before speaking again. “Good girl.”
My pussy clenched around Natasha at her words, the praise and dirty talk making my stomach flutter.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum…” Natasha groaned and bit her lip. “Gonna fill this pussy up~”
“She’s not on birth control, Tasha.” Wanda breathed out.
I could hear Natasha panting as she fucked me faster. “Then I guess she’s just gonna have to get pregnant. Wanna see you get all round with our baby’s again, I fucking love it. God, plus the pregnancy boobs, the constantly being horny and needy for us, the way we get to take care of you all the time and you can’t tell us not to.” She moaned.
I could see on Wanda’s face that she was getting closer, her face scrunched up in pleasure as she listened to Natasha. “Fuck…cum in her, Tash~”
Natasha’s breath hitched as she finished inside of me, her movements coming to a complete stop. Wanda pulled out of my mouth and I gasped for air, letting out a cough before moaning as Natasha’s orgasm had triggered my own.
Wanda caressed my face gently, wiping away some more tears from under my eyes. “You did good, sweetheart.”
“You didn’t cum.” I said confusedly.
She gave a smirk. “Oh, you didn’t think we were done did you?”
My eyes widened a bit, Natasha pulling out of me before moving me so I laid on my side. She laid down behind me, pressing her chest against my back before holding my leg up. Wanda got down in front of me and took my leg from Nat and laid it on her hip. Both their cocks nudged against my hole before Natasha pushed inside first.
“Fuck, Nat~” I moaned out.
Her hand gripped my thigh hard. “What did you call me?”
I swallowed. “Daddy…”
“That’s right, baby.” She whispered into my ear.
Wanda grabbed her cock before moving it into me, my face scrunching up at the painful stretch. They stayed still for a few seconds before they began to move, both of them pulling out and pushing back in at the same pace. Natasha moved her hand up to my stomach, holding it there as Wanda circled her arms around my waist.
“You’re taking our cocks so well, princess.” Wanda praised.
“Always so good for us.” Natasha spoke into my hair.
“Fuck mommy…daddy…” I moaned quietly.
They picked up the pace, moving faster as we all knew we wouldn’t be able to last long. Natasha kept moaning into my neck, mumbling soft praises.
“Such a perfect little girl~” Wanda breathed out. “Our perfect little housewife~”
“We’re not gonna deprive you anymore, always gonna fill you with our cocks~” Natasha said before biting my neck lightly.
“I can’t last much longer~” I whined and held onto Wanda.
“Don’t hold back, princess.” She said before they quickened their movements, fucking into me desperately.
“Cum around us, baby, clench that little pussy so hard on our fucking cocks.” Natasha whispered into my ear. “Come on. Three…two…one.”
My orgasm hit me quickly, my pussy fluttering wildly as they thrusted into me. My eyes rolled back into my head and I moaned loudly while feeling my body tense up. They fucked into me a few more times before they let go and filled me up, their cum leaking out around their cocks.
They pulled out and we laid there on our backs for a few minutes, just trying to catch our breaths. Wanda rolled over onto her side and gently caressed my stomach while speaking. “I really hope you get pregnant.”
I nodded. “Me too.”
Natasha kissed my temple and held me. “One more baby would be just perfect.”
Strawberry - Fezco x Reader (Smut)
A/N: I was thinking for a hot minute about how I should classify this one. Is it smut? Is it fluff? But I think if smut and fluff got into a fight and started throwing hands smut would beat fluff's ass, so here it is. This is smut.
I’m taking a break from writing the third part of Diner Date to give myself some time to get my concepts together. I really don’t wanna drag it into a part 4 but I also want it to keep it organic, yk? I’ll figure it out, writers find a way. Take in this oneshot in the meantime.
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: Smut but not as much as the fluff, many mentions of food, swearing, casual drug mention, general Fez pining for you
Ever since Fez knew you he noticed your obsession with Strawberries. It started small; every day at school your mom would pack strawberries in your lunchbox as a snack. You would sit there in the cafeteria with Fez and savour the sweet berries like it was the best part of your day. He admired you even then, wondering what it was like to be able to enjoy such little things in life to the extent you did, the way a kid his age should.
That admiration for your lust for life evolved as you two grew older and closer throughout the years. Your mom no longer packed you a lunch in high school, but you had a stash of strawberry flavoured blow pops in your locker and it was rare to ever see you without one in the halls. Fez, like most of the guys his age, had started to notice different things about you. He’d find himself staring at you as you enjoyed your pop, slowly dragging it out from your mouth and against your lips, letting them give off a satisfying smack before returning it to your tongue. The thoughts he had while watching you do that over and over again definitely weren’t platonic per se, but he had a hard time shooing them away nonetheless.
He dropped out of high school before the two of you graduated but that didn’t stop you from hanging out with him. Every Friday after school was dismissed he would pick you up, then Ash and take the two of you to the local diner for a snack. Without fail you would beam up at whichever waitress was working that day and say, “One strawberry milkshake please, extra syrup, 2 strawberries on top.” You looked fucking delightful sipping the overly sweet, milky drink with your eyes practically closed with how content you felt. The creases in the corners of your eyes made Fez’s heart melt and the tips of his ears go pink like your drink. He thanked God that you never noticed the way you had that effect on him, but Ash definitely did. After he dropped you home he would turn to him and ask since when he was “all soft and shit”, only earning a scoff or a snarky request for him to shut the fuck up. Ash knew that his brother was in love with you, what annoyed him was his reluctance to act on it. Fez wasn’t one to be unsure of any of the decisions he made in his life, it was either yes or hell the fuck no. He also knew that his feelings were reciprocated by you, so why was it so hard for Fez to suck it up already and tell you. That cheesy rom-com shit on TV annoyed him enough; he didn’t want to deal with it from you or his brother.
Ash and Fezco were making their monthly trip to the wholesale store to pick up supplies they needed to keep the store stocked and ready. Sure their main income brought far more to them than the snacks and basic necessities they sold as the shop, but it was just as much their business as the narcotics they sold and they made decent enough money from it. Ash had been on the other side of the warehouse picking up boxes of gum, chips and candy, noting the lines drawn for emphasis under the “strawberry twizzlers” written in his brother’s handwriting. He sighed to himself and mumbles a, “fuckin’ lovesick dumbass.” to himself as he dropped them into the cart either way. Fezco on the other hand was dealing with the crates of soda and malt liquor, sliding them onto the long cart as he made his way through the lanes, checking his list he had made on his phone. They met up at the cash register, ready to pay for their haul. Ash handed the cashier the card, making mindless small talk as he checked their items out. Fez’s mind couldn’t be further from the interaction happening before them, his thoughts fluttering over to perch where they always do: (Y/N). You had said that you would come over later that night to help him pack the items in the store, a task he never enjoyed but was made bearable with you there to keep him laughing and distracted. As he thought about the fun he would have tonight his eyes wandered over to the corner of the counter, seeing stacks of pink boxes there. He read the green words on the side, “Lip Smacker Strawberry Lip Gloss.” His already distracted mind thought about you and if you would like it, if you would wear it, what it would taste like, what you would taste like. Without a second thought he slid the box closer to the haul and the cashier slid it over the scanner, bagging it up and wishing them a good day.
Ashtray had always been the one to calculate their expenses after doing supply runs, so when he checked the bill and saw a charge for strawberry lip gloss his eyes couldn’t roll further into the back of his head. “Fez, what the fuck is this shit?” he asked, exiting the secret back room in the shop. Fez played dumb, knowing it would piss the kid off, “Uhh, that’s the bill from the store. You get those after the dude checks yo’ shit out”. Ash swung his hand, letting the piece of paper slap his brother weakly across the face, “Strawberry lip gloss? Get your head out yo’ ass, how’d you even sneak this shit past me?” Fez was about to give a comeback when he heard his phone ping, a notification from you letting him know that you would be there in 5 minutes. Ash takes that as his cue to leave, scoffing as he heads into the back once more.
Packing the shelves with you is as fun as it always is. You convince Fez to change the station on the radio from his preferred rap to your indie songs. He doesn’t particularly love your music taste but he tolerates it because he likes you. His attention flickers between you and the shelves he’s packing, watching as you sway your hips to the music. You’re slightly off beat but it’s endearing. Fez didn’t like you because you were perfect, nobody is. He liked what he saw and what he saw was the little pieces of you that he had the chance to get to know and fit together like a puzzle. You were one of his closest friends and even if he liked knowing that you cared about him just the same, it hurt that that’s all the two of you were.
He snaps back into reality when he hears you gasp a little, picking up the little red box at the bottom of the bag with the spearmint gum. “No way, Strawberry Lip Smackers? I haven’t worn this since I was a kid!” You reminisce about middle school dances with your friends and how you felt like the hottest girl at school when you put the sticky-sweet gloss on. Fez looks at you in a slight daze, loving that this little gesture of his gave you this much excitement. He followed you across the room as you took one of the little bottles and opened it, giving it a whiff. “Gosh it’s so artificial, but it smells so good”, you take out the applicator and slick on a few swipes of the clear gloss. Fez laughs as you pucker out your lips and walk up and down the aisle, pretending to be a runway model dolled up and showing off the latest trend. “Yo’ ma, who you wearin’ tonight?”, “Lip Smacker darling, only the most exquisite selection. It’s so middle school chic!” You and Fez double over in laughter, holding your sides as they begin to burn from clenching your stomachs so hard. You lean on the desk the register sits on for support and let out a content sigh, absentmindedly licking your lips as you do. Your eyes widen, “Mmmm, wow I forgot how good these taste too.” Fezco tilts his head at you, smirking at your comment, “You say that bout all the strawberry shit you taste”.
He gets up from his position on the floor and stretches high to the ceiling, you don’t fail to notice the way his sweater slides up his sides slightly, exposing the skin there and his happy trail slightly. You rip your eyes away from the sight so Fez wouldn’t notice, but it’s hard to hide. He leans on the desk with you, giving you a gentle smile. “I mean yeah I always say that, but like, this brand tastes particularly good. I’ve probably swallowed pounds of lip gloss since I’ve been in middle school”. His eyes zero in on your lips as you speak. He always liked the way your mouth moved, how they formed your words or the special way they stretched when you smile. He would be lying to say he hadn’t thought of what else they could do, how else they could look doing those other things, but he tried shooing those thoughts away too. “How does it taste?” he asks you, very much aware of the way that question sounds. It flusters you and you stutter a bit before you reply. “You uhh, wanna try some?” Fez’s gaze on you feels hot now and it makes your skin burn in the best way. It wasn’t often that Fez’s words were so smooth, so calculated, but the times that they were they did things to you that you had only ever sneakily read in your mom’s romance novels. “I can put a little on you if you wa-“, Fez grabs your face gently in one hand to make you look up at him, a little toothy smile playing on his lips as he stares at yours shamelessly. “You don’t gotta waste none on me ma’, there’s some right here.”
Fez tilts your head up slightly and brings his lips to the corner of your mouth, pushing his tongue out and across your bottom lip, licking the lip gloss clean off. The action brings a slight moan out from deep in your throat, immediately wanting nothing more than for him to do that again. The look in Fez��s eyes is darker now, the blue in them seeming sharper and he dares not look away from yours, waiting to see your reaction. You waste no time in wrapping your arms around his neck and slamming his lips back into yours, smiling into the kiss as his hands move from your face to grip your hips and push his into yours. His tongue darts out again to lick your bottom lip, groaning to express his displeasure at not having access to what’s inside. You open your mouth feeling his tongue hastily meet yours. It brings another moan out of you and Fez quickly notes the sound as another thing he loves about you, immediately thinking off all the things he could do to keep hearing it from you. He moves his hands from your hips to under your ass, lifting you onto the desk in one swift motion. You tilt your head to deepen the kiss even more as you feel the light touch of his fingers trail over your knee, slowly edging his way up your thigh until he reaches the hem of your skirt. Still exploring your mouth with his tongue, he groans into the kiss as he reaches the hem of your skirt, pushing the fabric up your thighs to expose your underwear. He moves from your mouth to your neck, peppering kisses up and down the sensitive skin until he finds a spot that makes your breath hitch, choosing to stay there and suck on the area. You let out another moan, more audible this time. His fingers find the lacy fabric of your panties, tugging at the edge and pushing it slightly to the side. You whimper as you feel Fez’s rough fingers push into your panties and brush against your clit. “Fez-”, you call out his name in a sigh, making him look at you but it doesn’t stop his motion on your clit. He likes knowing that he could make you feel like this, that he could have you melt in his hands this easily, that you want him just as much as he wants you, just like this.
You move to grab his wrist, pushing his fingers closer to your hole when the two of you hear the screeching of bike tires outside the shop. Fez quickly slides you off the desk and you fix your skirt and underwear, squirming at how wet he had just made you. The two of you turn to the entrance wide eyed and immediately relax when you see Rue enter the shop. “Ayo Fez. G’night (Y/N)…um…y’all good?” she splits her attention between the two of you. You’re both breathing heavily, your hair is slightly out of place from where it was slicked back and Fez’s face and ears are bright red. “Yo Rue, yea we coo’. Whatchu need? Ash in the back countin’ some bills.” Rue narrows her eyes at the two of you, nodding her head slightly, she obviously doesn’t believe him. “Yeah…I just need a few oxy’s. You sure everything’s good with you two?” You look at her and smile sheepishly, “Yeah, yeah we’re fine. Ash will hook you up.” She decides to leave you two be, smiling knowingly as she slips into the backroom where Ash is.
You and Fez turn to each other, staring wide eyed before bursting into a fit of laughter. Fez ropes you in and hugs you tight, kissing your forehead as he does. “You can’t get me caught like that again Fez, that could have been bad.” He rolls his eyes at you, “What Rue? She was probably jus’ gon’ tell Jewel…and Jewel would tell Kat…and then Kat would rat us out to Maddy and Cassie”. Him slowly putting the pieces together makes you chuckle, “…I don’t regret it though. Low-key wish you had done something like that sooner.” He looks down at you in surprise and you look back up at him innocently. “It’s been years Fez, how’d you not know?”, “Well if I’m being honest Ash been telling me to do something for years but I was like, too shy and shii’”, “Fez that was the last thing from shy”. He pulls you closer, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. “Well if you keep wearin’ that strawberry shit and tasting all delicious shii it gon’ stay that way ma’.” You laugh, keeping your eyes on his, “I’m not complaining”, you sigh as he leans in for another kiss.
A/N: Halfway through writing this it turned into smut. And yk what sometimes that's just what happens, so why fight it. This is the Valentine’s Day fic I suppose; part 3 of Diner Date will probably be out within the next 2 days. I hope y’all have a good day/night wherever you are.
I love your stories! I have been following roommates sukuna and satoru and haven now stopped to read satoru as ex-husband. After seeing the last story i was wondering what it would be like if satoru found out that the reader is taking birth control so his attempts to have a third child failed
Ex husband Gojo: what baby?
A/N: Omg bestie you a genius for this one! I was thinking of a way to spice up the story a bit because I didn’t want it to go down the typical ‘oh no I’m pregnant’ route. So thank you the idea! Hope you enjoy! <3
⚠️ Warnings: MINORS DNI, mentions of killing, sexual content, sexual language, mentions of mental instability, mentions of baby trapping
Ever since your divorce to Gojo, you had slowly fell under the illusion that you were dumb. For some reason, you could never keep up with his mind games, he was always one step ahead.
‘But I’m not dumb’ you thought as you casually stared at the birth control pills that was now held in Gojo’s trembling hands.
“What is this?”
“Is it not obvious? They’re my birth control pills” you replied.
He removed his shades from his eyes to stare into your soul with his icy blues, his face blank and emotionless. His large hands quickly crushed the packet and dropped it carelessly to the floor, without even looking away from you.
You gulp as you watch him slowly saunter his way closer to you like a predator who knows it’s prey can’t escape now.
His 6’3 figure towers over you as he stands in front of you now. He stared down at you unwaveringly.
“Why? Why do you take birth control you whore?” He asked with a strangely monotone way, but you could just about hear the tipping edge in his voice.
“Gojo I don’t need to explain myself to you, we’re divorced for a reaso-“
“It’s because you fuck other men too don’t you?” He asks with a surprisingly calm tone again, but this time his face inches closer to you.
You gulp, but you keep your head up, refusing to lose composure. “Why does that matter Gojo I-“ but your sentence was left incomplete as a large, cold hand is wrapped around your neck.
“You killed our fucking baby” he seethes, finally breaking his calm facade, his hand tightening around your neck at the very thought.
You choke at the constriction of air, your hands desperately trying to remove Gojo’s but it was hopeless against his iron grip, “What baby?” you manage to choke out.
You always knew Gojo was insane, but to think having pills equates to killing a baby? He officially lost his mental stability, and you were gonna pay the price for it.
Suddenly you were thrown onto your bed roughly, and before you had the time to recover or even process what just happened, his large hands found its way to your neck again.
“Stupid whore, HOW COULD YOU FORGET I FUCKED A BABY INTO YOU?! YOU’RE SUCH A BAD FUCKING MOTHER, SO DESPERATE TO RUN AWAY FROM THE RESPONSIBILITY OF A CHILD” he roared at you as he climbed on top of you to stop you from escaping his wrath.
“IM GOING TO FUCKING INFINITE VOID ALL YOUR LITTLE FUCKBOYS, MAYBE THEN YOU’LL PRIORITISE SOMETHING OTHER THAN YOUR PUSSY” He promised.
You felt hopeless under his body, from the pain shooting through your neck mixed with the awful words that stung your heart, you felt tears build up in your eyes.
His crazy blue eyes quickly spot the tears now leaking from your eyes as you sobbed pathetically. And as sick and twisted as it was, Gojo felt himself growing hot at the sight.
“Oh no no no, you don’t get to cry your way out of this one, you know what that does to me AHH~” he moans, and you turn away in disgust as you feel him press something hard against your own private area. You hated how your tears always turned him on.
He humped the large, hard bulge feverishly against you, with his head tilted back in pleasure and his shamelessly loud moans echoing across the room.
“Ah! You’re so evil y/n, using your tears- to get me- to forget” he gritted through his teeth, shifting the blame of his sick thoughts onto you. You shook your head in embarrassment and denial, he was so delusional.
You gasped as you felt wetness seep through his pants, and he must’ve caught on too. Suddenly he sat up and shoved the wet material of his pants on your face, grinding his bulge against your face. “Look what you’ve done” he accused breathlessly.
“Daddy where are you?” called a small, sweet voice from outside the bedroom, making yours and Gojo’s eyes widen.
Suddenly Gojo scrambled off of you, and quickly pulled out a pair of joggers he always keeps in the house while you cleared yourself up and tried to regulate your breathing.
“Come in my angel!” Gojo called out sweetly, making you wonder how someone could switch up that quick. If there was one thing you were thankful for, it was Gojo’s love for your kids.
Your adorable daughter entered your room and she looked up at you both with big magical looking eyes that resembled Gojo’s. “Hi mommy!” She waved to you with her chubby hands before returning her attention to her father.
“Daddy, you said to would show me my new toy but then you picked up mommy’s medicine and came upstairs?” Your daughter said with a sad pout adorning her face.
Gojo raised his eyebrows in surprise. How could he have forgotten?! He originally came over to show his kids new toys he brought, until he saw your pills and went hunting for you like a mad man.
“Oh baby! I’m so sorry!” Gojo apologised, picking up your daughter and kissing her squishy cheeks that resembled your own squishy cheeks. “It’s because mommy wasn’t feeling well so daddy needed to give mommy her medicine!” Gojo lied easily with a charming smile.
It made you wonder how many lies he’s probably told to be so naturally good at it.
Your daughter turned to you with wide eyes, and her mouth wide open “mommy sick?! Mommy I need to give you kisses!” Your daughter says, protruding her lips, making you smile sadly at how sweet your daughter is, no where near as evil as her father.
You lean forward, letting your daughter press a kiss to your nose, before she booped your nose and giggled, “now mommy will be all better again!”
Gojo smiled at his precious daughter, pressing a kiss to her chubby cheeks, before picking her up and bringing her to the door, “now princess, you head down and I’ll come down in a second and show you all the pretty toys I brought for you and your brother okay?” He says. Your daughter nods enthusiastically before running out.
The room returns to its previous eerily silent atmosphere. There’s a chill running down your spine as Gojo returns his attention to you.
He’s silent as he walks back to you, now sitting on the edge of the bed staring at you with a blank expression, yet his arms stretched out to caress your cheeks, taking you by surprise but you didn’t dare to disrupt his sudden mood change.
You still didn’t speak when he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and leaned forwards to press a soft kiss to it, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke
“Sit here and think about what you’ve done” he orders calmly.
“And then think about how you’ll possibly escape me now that I want that baby”
“...A lone woman could, if she spun in almost every spare minute of her day, on her own keep a small family clothed in minimum comfort (and we know they did that). Adding a second spinner – even if they were less efficient (like a young girl just learning the craft or an older woman who has lost some dexterity in her hands) could push the household further into the ‘comfort’ margin, and we have to imagine that most of that added textile production would be consumed by the family (because people like having nice clothes!).
At the same time, that rate of production is high enough that a household which found itself bereft of (male) farmers (for instance due to a draft or military mortality) might well be able to patch the temporary hole in the family finances by dropping its textile consumption down to that minimum and selling or trading away the excess, for which there seems to have always been demand. ...Consequently, the line between women spinning for their own household and women spinning for the market often must have been merely a function of the financial situation of the family and the balance of clothing requirements to spinners in the household unit (much the same way agricultural surplus functioned).
Moreover, spinning absolutely dominates production time (again, around 85% of all of the labor-time, a ratio that the spinning wheel and the horizontal loom together don’t really change). This is actually quite handy, in a way, as we’ll see, because spinning (at least with a distaff) could be a mobile activity; a spinner could carry their spindle and distaff with them and set up almost anywhere, making use of small scraps of time here or there.
On the flip side, the labor demands here are high enough prior to the advent of better spinning and weaving technology in the Late Middle Ages (read: the spinning wheel, which is the truly revolutionary labor-saving device here) that most women would be spinning functionally all of the time, a constant background activity begun and carried out whenever they weren’t required to be actively moving around in order to fulfill a very real subsistence need for clothing in climates that humans are not particularly well adapted to naturally. The work of the spinner was every bit as important for maintaining the household as the work of the farmer and frankly students of history ought to see the two jobs as necessary and equal mirrors of each other.
At the same time, just as all farmers were not free, so all spinners were not free. It is abundantly clear that among the many tasks assigned to enslaved women within ancient households. Xenophon lists training the enslaved women of the household in wool-working as one of the duties of a good wife (Xen. Oik. 7.41). ...Columella also emphasizes that the vilica ought to be continually rotating between the spinners, weavers, cooks, cowsheds, pens and sickrooms, making use of the mobility that the distaff offered while her enslaved husband was out in the fields supervising the agricultural labor (of course, as with the bit of Xenophon above, the same sort of behavior would have been expected of the free wife as mistress of her own household).
...Consequently spinning and weaving were tasks that might be shared between both relatively elite women and far poorer and even enslaved women, though we should be sure not to take this too far. Doubtless it was a rather more pleasant experience to be the wealthy woman supervising enslaved or hired hands working wool in a large household than it was to be one of those enslaved women, or the wife of a very poor farmer desperately spinning to keep the farm afloat and the family fed. The poor woman spinner – who spins because she lacks a male wage-earner to support her – is a fixture of late medieval and early modern European society and (as J.S. Lee’s wage data makes clear; spinners were not paid well) must have also had quite a rough time of things.
It is difficult to overstate the importance of household textile production in the shaping of pre-modern gender roles. It infiltrates our language even today; a matrilineal line in a family is sometimes called a ‘distaff line,’ the female half of a male-female gendered pair is sometimes the ‘distaff counterpart’ for the same reason. Women who do not marry are sometimes still called ‘spinsters’ on the assumption that an unmarried woman would have to support herself by spinning and selling yarn (I’m not endorsing these usages, merely noting they exist).
E.W. Barber (Women’s Work, 29-41) suggests that this division of labor, which holds across a wide variety of societies was a product of the demands of the one necessarily gendered task in pre-modern societies: child-rearing. Barber notes that tasks compatible with the demands of keeping track of small children are those which do not require total attention (at least when full proficiency is reached; spinning is not exactly an easy task, but a skilled spinner can very easily spin while watching someone else and talking to a third person), can easily be interrupted, is not dangerous, can be easily moved, but do not require travel far from home; as Barber is quick to note, producing textiles (and spinning in particular) fill all of these requirements perfectly and that “the only other occupation that fits the criteria even half so well is that of preparing the daily food” which of course was also a female-gendered activity in most ancient societies. Barber thus essentially argues that it was the close coincidence of the demands of textile-production and child-rearing which led to the dominant paradigm where this work was ‘women’s work’ as per her title.
(There is some irony that while the men of patriarchal societies of antiquity – which is to say effectively all of the societies of antiquity – tended to see the gendered division of labor as a consequence of male superiority, it is in fact male incapability, particularly the male inability to nurse an infant, which structured the gendered division of labor in pre-modern societies, until the steady march of technology rendered the division itself obsolete. Also, and Barber points this out, citing Judith Brown, we should see this is a question about ability rather than reliance, just as some men did spin, weave and sew (again, often in a commercial capacity), so too did some women farm, gather or hunt. It is only the very rare and quite stupid person who will starve or freeze merely to adhere to gender roles and even then gender roles were often much more plastic in practice than stereotypes make them seem.)
Spinning became a central motif in many societies for ideal womanhood. Of course one foot of the fundament of Greek literature stands on the Odyssey, where Penelope’s defining act of arete is the clever weaving and unweaving of a burial shroud to deceive the suitors, but examples do not stop there. Lucretia, one of the key figures in the Roman legends concerning the foundation of the Republic, is marked out as outstanding among women because, when a group of aristocrats sneak home to try to settle a bet over who has the best wife, she is patiently spinning late into the night (with the enslaved women of her house working around her; often they get translated as ‘maids’ in a bit of bowdlerization. Any time you see ‘maids’ in the translation of a Greek or Roman text referring to household workers, it is usually quite safe to assume they are enslaved women) while the other women are out drinking (Liv. 1.57). This display of virtue causes the prince Sextus Tarquinius to form designs on Lucretia (which, being virtuous, she refuses), setting in motion the chain of crime and vengeance which will overthrow Rome’s monarchy. The purpose of Lucretia’s wool-working in the story is to establish her supreme virtue as the perfect aristocratic wife.
...For myself, I find that students can fairly readily understand the centrality of farming in everyday life in the pre-modern world, but are slower to grasp spinning and weaving (often tacitly assuming that women were effectively idle, or generically ‘homemaking’ in ways that precluded production). And students cannot be faulted for this – they generally aren’t confronted with this reality in classes or in popular culture. ...Even more than farming or blacksmithing, this is an economic and household activity that is rendered invisible in the popular imagination of the past, even as (as you can see from the artwork in this post) it was a dominant visual motif for representing the work of women for centuries.”
- Bret Devereaux, “Clothing, How Did They Make It? Part III: Spin Me Right Round…”
I just got my wisdom teeth out and was wondering if I could have either a rooster or hangman fic with reader who just had her wisdoms out too! The chipmunk look is not it.
oh friend, i feel your pain!! i got mine out 2 years ago and it was brutal. wish i had a hunky pilot to nurse me back to health! hope you recover fast!! warnings include- mentions of blood, IV's, and all the lovely things that come with having your wisdom teeth out.
You took a deep breath and let your finger hover above the name of the contact in your phone.
“You can and should call me anytime.”
Pressing his name, you waited with bated breath while the dial tone sounded in your ear. He picked up on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Hi, Jake…” you murmured breathlessly. You could make out the distinct ruffle of bedsheets in the background, as the elder pilot whispered something to someone in the background.
“Good morning kid,” he stifled a yawn. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your early morning wake-up call?”
You cringed at the notion that you had disturbed him from something important. “Listen- I need to have my wisdom teeth pulled tomorrow morning and the person who was supposed to take me…”
“Can’t anymore?” he finished for you.
You nodded dumbly. “That’s exactly right. And I would take myself except that I’ll be sedated and groggy and I probably shouldn’t drive- so I was wondering if you might be able to drop me off and bring me home?”
A female voice could be heard above the crackle of the phone wire, the realization of it caused your cheeks to burn warmly. Jake simply ignored her. “Of course, I can. What time tomorrow morning?”
You chewed anxiously at the edge of your bottom lip. “11 am.”
“See you tomorrow morning, kid.”
The drive to the clinic had been quiet, the silence punctuated only by short stretches of conversation. “I’m sorry to have bothered you yesterday… I wasn’t sure who else I could have called save for a taxicab or something.”
Jake frowned down at the speedometer and shook his head. “Nonsense. I’m uh… glad that you called. I’m glad that I was able to be able to do this today. Besides,” He added, and proceeded to signal right, shoulder check and move into the right lane. “I made your brother a deal when you moved to San Diego to keep an eye on you- and that is exactly what I intend to do.”
You swallowed hard at the mention of your older brother and turned your attention to the scenery rushing past your window. “I miss him.” You confessed quietly, trying to keep your voice as even as possible.
Jake lifted his hand from the steering wheel as if to wrap it around your own, but something hindered him, and he let it drop back to the black leather wheel. “I do too.” Ten minutes had passed in silence when he pulled into a stall in front of the building and pushed the car into park. “Are you nervous?” He turned to speak to you now, the full power of his glassy green orbs caused any moisture in your mouth to evaporate on the spot.
“Quite, actually.” You admitted.
Jake smiled sympathetically. “It’ll be over before you know it, hm?” He reached over to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear- the subtle brush of his fingertips left trails of fire in their wake, and you stifled a full-body shiver. “And on the bright side- they’re going to give you a bunch of great drugs to keep the pain at bay.”
He exited the vehicle and made his way around to your side of the door, holding it open for you. “You’ll be here when I’m finished?” you asked, and in that moment- you detested how scared and desperate your voice sounded.
Jake rubbed a reassuring hand in circles against your back. “I’ll be here, kid. As long as it takes.” As the nurse escorted you to an exam room, you watched the naval aviator drop into a chair by the window, a half-finished novel wedged firmly in his grasp.
“A warm blanket?” You raised an eyebrow in question at the nurse a few feet away from you, a blanket fresh from the dryer ready in her hands.
“Yes, honey.” She wrapped the warm fleece around your still frame, and surprisingly enough, it had brought a small amount of peace of mind.
The anesthesiologist took a seat next to your bed and rubbed an alcohol swab over a spot in your inner forearm. “This is going to pinch a little, but then you’re going to get very sleepy. Are you ready?”
“Yes.” You murmured, despite your immense apprehension.
He slid the IV into your arm, and as the anesthesia made its way into your veins, your whole body suddenly became very cold. You were astonished at how tired you became so fast- and then your entire world faded to black.
“Hi honey- the surgery is all over. You can wake up now.” You came to, to the sensation of someone shaking your arm rather abruptly. Your mouth was more swollen than it had ever been in your life, and you struggled to put a face to your location. “Where- where am I?” you managed to make out.
“You’ve just had your wisdom teeth taken out, darling. You’re at a dental clinic.”
Dismayed, you murmured, “Can I… have them back?”
The nurse pulled the blanket from your body and fit a Band-Aid over the wound in your arm from the IV. “Can you have what back?”
Your thoughts felt as though they needed to swim through an ocean before they could exit your mouth. “My teeth… can I have them?” You could not, for the life of you, figure out why this was such a difficult concept for her.
“Oh, honey no… they’re gone.”
Gone? Where on earth did they go?
You had been about to push her further on the mystery of your missing molars when a patient next to you had been roused from their sedation, and had begun eliciting loud, groggy groans.
“Jake…” you murmured wearily. “I’d like to see my… Jake now.”
The nurse nodded her head and moved to help you off the gurney. “He’s just waiting for you behind the door, honey.”
Sure enough, when she opened the door to the back of the clinic, Jake was already waiting for you. “There she is,” He smiled and stood from his position at the bench. “How’d you do, kid?”
You watched his figure approach you- watched the way the sleeves of his worn t-shirt stretched out around his toned biceps. You had always been in awe of him, but this? This was too much. The nurse cleared her throat and passed him over a small slip of paper, and a large pack of gauze. “This is a prescription for Toradol and Tylenol 3’s. Please have her alternate between the two every three hours, to keep on top of the pain.” Jake read the paper and then simply slipped it into the back pocket of his jeans.
“Anything else I should be aware of?”
The nurse gestured to you. “Swelling is absolutely expected and should return to normal in a few days from now. Keep an eye on her temperature and check the gauze every hour or so. If her sutures aren’t clotting and her bleeding is excessive, take her to a hospital. No straws, or excessively cold or hot foods.”
“No ice cream?” You gasped and could feel the warm prickle of tears in the depths of your eyes.
“Thank you.” Jake smiled politely and watched the nurse leave. He dropped to his knees to help you get your boots on. “How are you feeling?”
“How am I feeling?” You mumbled, not entirely aware of how much the gauze was making you lisp. “I feel like I’m missing a piece of myself.”
Jake stifled a chuckle. “Beg your pardon?”
“They took my teeth Jake. They just… ripped them from my mouth and stole them.”
“They needed to come out kid.” He hooked an arm around your frame and helped you out the backdoor to his waiting car. “They were super impacted.”
You shook your head. “At my last consultation they told me that if they came out intact… that I could have them,” You ran a finger over the top of your numb lip. “I miss them…”
Jake succeeded in getting you buckled into your seat and made his way around to the driver’s side. Once settled, he turned to you and gestured to the radio. “Is there anything you’d like to listen to on the way home?”
You thought for a moment. “You know that old western song about the big iron on his hip?”
Jake seemed clueless, so you attempted to hum it for him. “Yeah- I’m just going to type it into Spotify and see what comes up, okay?”
You nodded, numbly. “Hurry please. I just want to forget about my missing teeth.”
You had been too tired to notice Jake’s muffled laughter.
Coming to for the second time that day, it was to the realization that Jake had managed to get you from the car to your apartment without your recollection. “Hi, kid.” He murmured. Your side of the bed dipped under his weight as he found himself a seat next to you. “Let’s check that gauze, okay? Open up, please.”
Groggily, you did as you were told and watched his face drop the smallest bit. “Oh, definitely time for a change-out.” He reached for the packet of gauze next to the table and rolled two pieces up into long sticks. He then pulled the soggy, bloody pieces from your mouth and dropped them into the garbage can next to your bed.
“Oh my god,” you groaned.
Jake shook his head, his jaw set. “Don’t even think about it. It’s not that bad.”
“Not that bad? They were soaked in blood!”
He sighed heavily. “Yeah well, you just had surgery on your mouth, kid. There is bound to be blood. But it looks like they’re clotting okay, so you’re on the right track.” He rubbed a warm thumb over the back of your hand. “Would you like to try some water and Toradol? How is your pain?”
“What time is it?”
Jake glanced at the watch on his wrist. “2:43.”
You tried to gauge your pain by biting down softly on the raw skin, which caused you to whimper quietly. “Yeah, I’ll have some water.”
Jake nodded finitely and stood from the bed to head to the kitchen. He returned moments later with a glass of water and a pill in his hand.
“God, you’re good-looking.” you sighed as he came further into view.
“And you, are about to be on some pretty hefty painkillers, kid.”
You shook your head. “That won’t change a thing, Jake.”
He settled down on the bed beside you and tapped your chin gently. “Open up, please.” Doing as you were told; he placed a small white pill on the flat of your tongue and slid a water glass into the crook of your open hand. “These are going to make you sleepy I think.”
You took a hearty swig of the water and swallowed the pill, eying the sticks of gauze on the bed that Jake had already rolled. “Would you mind inserting them back in?”
His gaze followed yours and he nodded his head. “Of course.” Once that was done, and he had tucked you firmly back into bed, he stood to leave. “Can I bring you anything else?”
You could already feel the familiar pull of your eyelids- sleep loomed above you like a warm rain cloud. “No… but could you stay with me?”
He hesitated at the doorway- you almost expected him to decline, but then he turned on his heal and sidled into bed beside you. His presence alone was like a safety blanket; nothing untoward could happen to you if he was there. You slowly drifted off to the feeling of his impossibly large, warm, fingers brushing through your hair. “Hey Jake?” you mumbled sleepily.
“Who do you think has my teeth?”
You did not miss the way his shoulders shook with silent laughter. After a while he cleared his throat and said, “I’m not sure, kid. Maybe the clinic employs a tooth fairy and instead of money you get…”
“You get Jake’s.” you yawned.
And before he could respond to that, you had already drifted off.
Evening had come fast- when you awoke a few hours later, night had fallen, and your apartment was permeated with the mouth-watering scent of homemade chicken noodle soup. Jake stood in the doorway of your bedroom and you smiled dopily at him. “Hi there.”
He happily returned your smile. “Hi, kid. Let’s see how that gauze is doing, hm?” He closed the distance quickly, and you were already open wide. Again, he pulled the sodden ones from your mouth and discarded them, settling a warm hand over your thigh. “Are you hungry at all? I made some soup…”
You nodded. “Quite hungry, actually.”
“Alright then, I’ll be back momentarily.”
You watched his figure disappear from frame, could hear cupboards and drawers opening in the distance. When he returned, he was laden with two steaming bowls of soup, and a bed tray. You ate mostly in silence- you could not remember the last time someone had cooked for you, and you reveled in that notion for the entire meal. Your mouth was sore, and you felt grotesquely swollen, but you knew that eventually it would pass. “Thanks a lot for this, Jake.”
He shrugged as he scraped the spoon around the bottom of his empty bowl. “No worries. It was my mum’s recipe.”
You shook your head. “Not just for the soup, Jake… but for everything.”
He took your empty bowl and made for the direction of the kitchen. “Don’t mention it kid.”
After dinner, Jake helped you to your bathroom so that you could rinse your mouth out with the bright green, medicated mouthwash they had prescribed you. You took a Tylenol 3 in preparation for sleep, and he helped you get into your pajamas and settle right back into your down duvet. A gentle summer rain had begun to patter against your glass window, and you felt lulled by the staccato of it. Thinking back to your phone call to him yesterday morning, your cheeks grew warm in mild embarrassment. “I uh… I’m sorry for interrupting you yesterday.”
It took him a moment to reply. “You didn’t.”
“She sounded beautiful.”
Jake hummed contentedly next to you and let a few moments pass before he leaned over and pressed a warm kiss to the edge of your swollen jawline. “She couldn’t hold a candle to you, kid.”
The only thing that seemed to calm your racing heart, was the notion that when the sun rose to greet you in the morning, she would also greet the wonderfully warm, and kind man next to you.
As I Once Was
Pairing: Pete “Maverick” Mitchell x Reader
Word Count: 1.4k
Author’s Note: I am in need for more Maverick fics, so I am feeding myself. I’ve exhausted all of them. I feel like I made Jake’s character too much of an asshole, but we love his character development in the movie.
Watching Hangman and Rooster play pool while shooting insults back and forth was entertaining on the first day back, but seeing as it’s the third day, the show just was not as appealing. Sitting beside Bob, your elbow rests on your knee as your hand holds your chin. You can help the bored look on your face as you stare past the pool table and out of the window at the beach. The waves build up just enough power only to be stopped by the shore, and somehow that is more entertaining to watch.
“Since you’re so bored, Sweetheart, why don’t you go get me another beer?” Hangman calls out, knocking you away from your previous stare on the water. You look at him still holding the same bored expression. On any other day, you would tell Jake to shove the pool stick so far up his ass it comes out of his mouth, but it would do you some good to get away from whatever this weird dynamic they have going on.
“Fine, does anyone else want anything?” You ask just to make sure, but the majority shake their head no. You give one last look around and even take a moment to check in with Bob before heading to the bar where Penny is moving back and forth between customers.
“Penny, I think it’s time to hire some help.” You joke as you take a seat, not planning on bringing Hangman a drink back for a while. Penny just smiles while handing the girl beside you two beers.
“Are you offering?” She leans on the bar with a raised brow, but you just laugh it off with a shake of your head.
“If it gets me away from the Hangman-Rooster situation, then I’ll be happy to work for you.” You both share a smile before your eyes drift to a patron behind her.
“And who is that?” You ask with a smile on your face. On the other side of the bar was an older man staring into his glass, and Penny turns back to you with a laugh.
“That’s Pete “Maverick” Mitchell. He was in Top Gun with Admiral Kazansky.” She mentions while taking a beer from another girl to pop the top off for her. You keep staring at the pilot with a mixture of curiosity and want. You get Penny to pour you a shot, so you shoot it back while standing up; she just shakes her head before going to an empty table with bottles littering the top. You can’t deny the attraction you feel towards him, and the fact that he is older doesn’t bother you. If anything, it’s preferable. As you get closer, you notice so many more perfect pieces of him. His hair is perfectly pushed back, he’s sporting a nice, leather jacket littered with patches, and his eyes just look so inviting.
“Is this seat taken?” You point out the barstool beside him, and he looks confused. Taking a look at the empty stools around you because most patrons are either standing or at tables with friends, he looks back with a lopsided smile.
“Is there a reason you want that stool specifically?” He pushes back, and you look at the floor with your tongue pushing at the corner of your lips. You look back with a tight grin.
“Because this seat happens to be beside a very attractive man I’d like to talk to…” You place one hand on the bar and shift on your feet. You lean in a little closer to his face, “...Is that a problem, Captain?”
He stirs in his seat, looking away from your face to take a large drink from his beer. After a moment, he reaches out with one hand to pull out the stool from under the bar, and you take the seat happily. Just as you sit down, Penny replaces his beer and hands you a new one.
“Wouldn’t you rather talk to the other men you came in with?” He still is not looking at you. Instead, he watches as Hangman sets up for another game of pool, so you roll your eyes.
“I’d rather be thrown overboard out of the bar and have back problems for the rest of my life.” You grimace at the thought of having those same people playing pool picking you up to toss you off the side of the bar. You never got along with Jake. Your go to friends, if you had to choose, were always Bob and Phoenix because they weren’t the cocky, arrogant pilots that surrounded you. To your surprise, the pilot laughs. He puts his beer bottle on the bar and leans his head down while laughing. As you pick up in the laughter, his being contagious, he brings a hand to wipe down his face.
“I take it you don’t like pilots?” He coyly asks, looking at you with an amused glance.
“There are always some exceptions.” You look towards Bob and Phoenix as they are deep into a conversation despite the rowdy game of pool happening right beside them. He follows your gaze, and his smug smile seems to soften when he realizes you were speaking about your friends.
“Am I to believe I’m one of them?” He takes that chance. He watches as your expression turns from soft admiration to wide grin, and you turn to face him completely.
“Do you want to be?” You take a step further and place your hand on top of one of his that was resting on the bar. He just stares at your hand for a moment and relishes in the feeling of your fingers softly running over the back of his hand. When he glances back at you, you’re giving him that suggestive look. The look that is asking him to take you out of the bar and back to wherever he wants to because you’re whipped for this man already. Whipped like “Pearls, heels, dresses, and cherry pie” whipped.
“Ma’am, as much as I would love to do the whole routine, I’m not as good as I once was.” Though he seems dismissive, his hand flips to take yours into his grasp.
“I think you’re being too hard on yourself.” You squeeze his hand, and as he is about to say something else, you hear the awful voice of Jake Seresin.
“You ditch us to hang out with this relic? What the hell, Shine?” Jake leans on the bar beside you, so you gave Pete an apologetic look.
“Yeah, well, the five minutes I’ve been sitting here with Captain Mitchell has been more interesting than the years I’ve known you. My apologies for wanting something…different.” You can see Jake’s face go from cocky to pissed off quickly, and you know that he’s either going to blow up or storm off.
“Interesting? Bring me a few more beers, and I can show you something interesting.” You give him a bored stare because that was the worst pick-up line you have ever heard.
“That’s the best you got? I’d keep my focus on pool, Hangman.” You turn back to Maverick, but Jake was not done just yet.
“Come on, Sweetheart. We used to drink together every time we saw each other, so let’s just keep that tradition going.” He places a hand on your shoulder, and you can see Pete flagging Penny down.
“Me drinking with you, Fanboy, and Coyote is not us drinking together.” You bite back while pushing his hand off of its spot on your shoulder.
“So you want it to be just us then?” His classic Hangman smirk and charm kicks on, and it did make you smile just because you have seen this routine before. Before you could get in another word, you hear the sound of Penny’s bell ringing.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, Lieutenant Jake Seresin will be paying for all your drinks from here on out!” She announces while clapping, and the bar erupts into cheers. As Jake brings a few drinks over to the group, you turn back to Pete with a toothy grin.
“Thank you, Captain. How could I ever repay you?” You ask as you rest your arm on his shoulder, chin sitting on top of it. He looks straight ahead at Hangman as he takes one last sip of his second drink.
“Let me skip the routine and show how good I once was.”
I don’t have a taglist yet, I’m sorry! Give me time to set everything up again because as I said, I am restarting my blog to be more multifandom. That way I don’t have to keep resetting the blog.
queen mary scaries — colby brock
SUMMARY — you and colby go back to the queen mary ship
WARNINGS — scary stuff, gn!reader, fluff
REQUESTED BY — @outerbanks-world
THEY WERE GOING BACK, and you weren’t the only one to warn them. katrina, sam’s girlfriend, also warned him against it. did either sam or colby listen? no.
“i just don’t understand why they would go back to the time in their ghost-hunting career that traumatized them the most,” you vented to kat as you both waited for the boys to finish packing.
“sam says this is their last time going,” kat agreed, concern written on her face.
“do you believe him?”
you were soon on your way to another terrifying experience. you’ve watched their videos, and you’ll never forget the sheer terror on colby’s face whenever he went back a second or third time. he has nightmares for weeks, and you knew because he often woke you up to come and sleep with him. it wasn’t a bother at all, you were just worried for him.
that anxiety carried over. you were anxious for the trip, of course, but also for colby. you told yourself you needed to get out of your own head and just breathe. things were gonna be fine, right?
the car stopped and you looked out of the windshield from the backseat. you saw the looming ship in front of you, and for a moment you were too engrossed in the beauty of it to remember it’s haunted. hopefully you keep reminding yourself of that throughout the night.
you all — kat, sam, colby and you — climbed out of the car to be met with the chilling air of the evening.
“perfect weather,” you joked to your boyfriend. colby chuckled, wrapping his arms around you from the side. he knew you were anxious, if you hadn’t told him he definitely felt that you were.
“chilly for a chilling night,” sam rubbed his hands together with a grin, making the rest of you laugh. the duo did their intro, introducing the other two of their group. it was officially the beginning of a very long night.
it was the height of the investigation and you were behind colby. sam held the camera, which was pointed in a particular corner of the room. you could hear colby’s breathing hitch, his anxiety spiking through the roof.
“what was that?” sam asked quietly, looking over at colby, who merely shook his head. there was silence, but then another knock in that corner of the room. it all came flooding back for colby, almost as if it was ptsd.
colby backed out of the room, leaving it just as quickly as all that happened. you turned on the lights, since it was y’all’s bright idea to have them off.
“i’ll go check on him,” you nodded to sam, running out of the room. sam followed you, which you expected of his best friend.
“colby!” you called for him to stop, but he wasn’t stopping.
“colby, stop please!” you called again, picking your pace up to a jog. he was still a ways ahead of you, given he had much longer legs than you did. you finally caught up to him and stopped in front of him, at that point it was just the two of you. his face was red with fear and his breath was uneven. he ran a hand through his hair, avoiding your eyes.
“colbs…look at me,” you hummed softly. he replied by doing as you asked, his eyes welled up with tears.
“it’s just like it was before,” he whispered softly.
“i was reluctant to come back, i shouldn’t have,”
“you wanted to resolve this once and for all. leave it behind you, and that’s ok. i’m proud of you for facing your fears,” you brought up a hand to rest on his cheek, feeling the warmth of his tears. his hand rested on yours, taking in the comfort you radiated.
“you didn’t want to come,” he spoke gently. you should have known he’d pick up on that.
“do i ever want to go to a haunted place and purposely crap myself? no,” she joked, making the brunette boy in front of her chuckle. “but i will always join you on your adventures no matter what. who knows, maybe it’s growing on me,” your words comforted your boyfriend, who’s hands were still shaking from the horror within that room.
“thank you, y/n,” he hummed softly, his eyes locking with your own. you were his rock in these situations, hence why you came along most of the time, especially to the places that were rumored to be the scariest.
“anytime,” you smiled, grabbing ahold of his hands. he gave your hands a light squeeze before wrapping his arms around you. you both just stood there for a moment, mentally preparing yourselves for the horrors that lurked in the walls of B340.
colby pulled away and took a deep breath.
“let’s get this over with,” he hummed.
“i’ll be right beside you,” you told him, “and so will sam,” you reminded him, to which he smiled at you. you both returned to the room and continued your investigation.
this took me absolutely forever and i sincerely apologize. i’m not as into the fandom anymore :/ but every now and then i’ll try to post something! i wont leave y’all hanging. thank you for the request and i deeply apologize for the wait time! remember to be safe and be kind lovelies!!
Surprise Pt. 3
Hi guyss! Here’s the third part of Surprise and I’m so excited about whether you’re gonna like it or not so please let me know, enjoyyy <3
And I’m so sorry if I can’t reply back to your beautiful comments but I read and appreciate every single one of them so thank you so much
Also part 1 and 2 can be found on my blog, make sure to check them out
pairing: Sparrow Ben x Y/N
After they left the academy she had to endure Diego’s long long long interrogation about how the sparrows treated her in the house and if they harmed her in any way. She answered every question he had with patience as she knew he only did this because he cared. After that he went to Lila who was sitting on the couch watching them and laughing her ass of at over-protective Diego. She watched as the love birds hug and kiss, being happy to be in each other’s arms, bickering back and forth about the smallest things and gaining laughs from everyone. She couldn’t help but wonder if they would be the same if what happened didn’t happen. If only Ben was here, she thought. Actually Ben was here, only minutes away. If she wanted to see him, which by the way there wasn’t a time she didn’t, she could. But she knew better than that. She already faced her siblings’ concerned eyes pointed at her as she answered questions about Ben earlier. They all were afraid this was affecting her in a bad way. She was less prepared for sudden movements, less concentrated and more depressed. Even more than usual.
Ben was at dinner table with all his siblings and Reginald, consumed by his thoughts. He had let this new group of people affect him too much and he needed to shake this uneasy feeling off of him. He decided it was best to keep himself entertained and possibly shit faced would help. He went into his room to change in a more fancy get up and started doing his hair on the mirror when he saw Fei walking in his room.
“Don’t you think going out tonight is a bad idea?” she asked sitting on his bed.
Fei and her ideas no one asked for, he thought.
“I need to blow off some steam.”
“You mean you need to be blowed to feel better about yourself.” she answered quickly with a laugh.
“Fei, I’m the Number One now and I don’t want your criticism.” He didn’t like being interrogated, he was in charge now.
“Then, be a leader! Tell us to get up and do something, this is why you were demoted before!”
She walked out angrily but he was even angrier. He never liked to talk about the time he was Number One and then demoted to Two. But this was his time to shine, he was the first right now and nothing could take that away from him.
She felt the walls starting to closing in, feeling overwhelmed. In need of fresh air, she told everyone she was going on a walk and left without giving anyone a chance to argue. The wind hit her as soon as she stepped out of the hotel. She searched through her pockets to find her cigarettes and lighter and started walking, whilst smoking. She was in the city she grew up in, it was the same but also so different. She was going up to the pedestrian walkway when she looked up and saw a familiar face in a fancy sports car, waiting for the light to turn green. Not wanting to deal with ‘angry Ben’ she tried to walk past the car but he was quick to notice her and came to her side of the road, slowing down in the process. He rolled down the window, looking in an oddly good mood but as soon as he opened his mouth, she knew it was because he was under the influence.
“What are you doing here, at this hour? Someone could kidnap you.” He said with a sarcastic tone, laughing. She missed his laugh, it was like music to her ears.
“I’m not in the mood.” she snapped back, still occupied with all her thoughts and he was interrupting a ‘feel sorry for myself’ night for her.
“Look how the tables turned…” he let out a chuckle. “Is it your turn to be grumpy?”
She knew it was better to keep walking, not getting used to this side of him. She knew he would go back to being the arrogant and selfish guy as soon as the alcohol left his system but she couldn’t help but worry about his well being. Drunk driving was a bad choice. She stopped in her tracks, he stopped the car too as she stepped in the passenger seat.
“What do you want, Ben?” she asked, thinking maybe this could be an opportunity.
“You’ve been incredibly eager to get me to talk to you, interrogating, asking many questions. It’s my turn now.” he said with a serious face.
She let out a nervous sigh and nodded.
“On one condition, switch places with me. I’ll drive you back to the academy.”
“But I don’t wanna go back to the academy, it’s still early and there’s no way I’m letting you drive my baby.” he whined. She looked at her watch seeing it was actually 2 a.m. You rolled your eyes at his comment.
“It’s actually not, c’mon, get out of the car.”
“Do you even know how to drive?” he asked, clearly annoyed but she wasn’t changing her mind. He couldn’t drive like this, possibly causing an accident and having himself harmed in a stupid way.
Finally, he gave in and got into the passenger seat while she got behind the wheel.
“So, ask what you wanna know.” she said to break the tension. There was a thick atmosphere whenever they were in the same space, she wondered if he felt it too.
“What was he like?” he asked, quietly.
“Who?” she raised an eyebrow.
“Your Ben? Everyone just keeps telling me he was this and that and better than me… What did he have that I don’t?”
She realized in that moment, he actually felt hurt to all their comments. Diego, Viktor, Klaus, her… They’ve all said the same things when they saw what a pain in the ass Sparrow Ben was.
“Well, he was like the glue that kept us all together. He had close relationships with everyone and could sense when something was bothering us. He was just the light in the room, and I loved having him by my side at all times.”
He watched her eyes twinkling as she spoke about him, not actually him, but him. He felt a strange emotion, growing inside him as she kept on listing qualities this other Ben had and how perfect he was.
“I think I’ve heard enough” he cut her off.
She knew he felt some type of way about the conversation they had but didn’t want to overwhelm him, this could backfire easily turning Ben into the annoying mood and she didn’t want that, not when he finally felt let his hair down just a tiny bit.
“So, what else do you wanna know? I’m listening.” she asked in hopes of changing the mood.
He had a question in mind, he was dying to know the answer but something in told him it wasn’t the best idea. So he looked at her with the most serious look on his face and asked
“Would you like a drink?” and reached in the glove compartment to pull out a flask.
She couldn’t help but giggle while taking the bottle from his hands. They stayed in the car drinking and talking about stupid things. It got serious at some points but overall, they shared many laughs. More than she could count. When she looked at the time again it was nearly 5 a.m. and they both looked exhausted.
“We really should get going”
He tried to protest but his eyes were shutting down, indicating he needed to rest. She drove to the academy, to drop him and the car off. When they arrived she looked at the passenger seat and saw a sleeping Ben, looking innocent and vulnerable. He looked perfect. She smiled and woke him up. He finally opened his eyes and got out of the car. As she was trying to hand him the keys to the car, he started walking up the driveway. She yelled at him to catch his attention.
“Where do you think you’re going without getting the keys you idiot?” she jokingly said.
He turned to look at her for a second before turning back. Without even glancing at her, he said:
“I’m not letting you walk alone at this late hour, you’re coming inside with me.”
gif credit: simpforbenhargreeves
@silvery-luna hope you enjoy thiss, the third part is already out
⇨ set myself on fire (m).
ex bf!yoongi. college au. 3355 words. slight age gap, slight angst. hand holding. dirty talk, possessiveness.
With him, you were always trying. Trying to be more, trying to be less. Bending, shrinking, expanding.
Break-ups, you eventually learn, are not a good look for you.
Self-doubt keeps you awake at night more than caffeine ever has. The lack of proper sleep has disastrous consequences on your school life and your general appearance.
Even the most skilled makeup artists would consider you a lost cause. All their professional training and years of experience would not be enough to breathe new life into your dull and haggard appearance, not when your exhaustion is still so visibly apparent through the layers of concealer you regularly apply under your eyes. When you stare at yourself in the mirror you see a ghost, a creature from the past anchored in the wrong reality.
This goes on for a week, then two. You probably would have hit the third week mark if your friends hadn’t staged an emergency intervention.
“Your first big split can be hard, I get it.” Mari pats your shoulder. “That’s why you gotta listen to us. This can't go on any longer than it already has.”
Liz is a little less sympathetic. She’s always hated your ex-boyfriend and has no reservations reminding you of what an asshole he is.
You don't agree with her snide remarks but know it's useless to argue. Any objection has her rolling her eyes.
"You think being nice is ignoring your calls for a week?"
"It wasn't a week-"
"Do the details matter?" she crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. "If he really respected you, he'd let you know he was gonna be busy instead of letting you waste your time and energy worrying about him."
Maybe she's right. Maybe you need to stop finding excuses for his every action.
Thanks to your friends' gentle but firm guidance you learn that there’s a code of conduct one must follow post break-up. Detailed steps one must take to numb the side effects of heartbreak.
It’s challenging to keep track of every little thing you’re supposed to be doing - and not doing - but you’re determined to become a functioning member of society once more.
RULE 1. BLOCK THAT MF. Your friends collectively warn you to lose your ex’s number. Delete it, block it, forget it. It makes moving on easier, they insist.
RULE 2. STAY OFF SOCIAL MEDIA. Don’t keep tabs on him. Seeing him be happy without you will make you swim in misery (and wine).
RULE 3. KEEP BUSY. Meet with friends, talk to family. Study, work out - whatever keeps your mind occupied.
The list goes on, some rules making less sense than others, but you’re so desperate to move on at this point that you’re willing to try just about anything.
It works - for the most part. You’ve never been more social in your life and the constant human to human interactions take up most of your free time and energy.
You try your best. Really, you do. It’s not enough, but it helps. So far you’ve successfully avoided any major meltdowns.
RULE 13 : NO LISTENING TO SAD SONGS/WATCHING SAD MOVIES in particular has kept you from recreating the typical kdrama scene where the lead wallows in her own sadness, a tub of ice cream in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, before a nicer, smarter, more handsome love interest sweeps her off her feet.
It’s week six, almost week seven, when your friends decide that you’re ready to take the next step.
“What you need is a distraction,” Mari says, wagging her eyebrows, the implication of her words evident.
“She’s not that kind of girl.”
“What do you mean?” Except you know exactly what she means. You just want to make her say it.
“Well, aren’t you the relationship type?” it’s defensive, like she knows she’s said the wrong thing.
“Sometimes.” You say, but the answer is distracted, your mind elsewhere.
You’re thinking about lists and rules, adding this one to the ever growing manual you’ve sworn to follow. RULE 26. DATE OTHER PEOPLE. THERE ARE OTHER FISH AT SEA.
“You don’t need to find the love of your life right now. Just - like go out, have fun. It doesn't have to be a big thing."
"Why don't we go clubbing!" Mari proposes, excitement building in her tone. "Even if no one catches your eyes, I think it’ll do you some good to go out. We haven’t been out together in forever!”
You think about the alternative. Going home, watering your plants, microwaving the leftover lasagna, feeling bad for yourself. Reluctantly, you nod.
“That settles it then!” Liz cheers, already making her way to her closet to dig up the perfect outfit. “We’ll help you find a hot rebound. Nothing is better than good dick to help you realize there are plenty of great options!”
Next to you, Mari nods sagely. “It’ll help you - make you realize that there are other guys out there. Your world is much bigger than one single person, no matter how great you thought they were.”
Her words of advice settle into your bones, haunting. You want to believe her but if there's anything these past weeks have taught you, it's that your heart is stubborn. It cares little about what's better or nicer or kinder.
When you return her smile, you know deep down that you're only setting yourself up for disappointment.
Rule 26 is tiresome work, requiring more effort than advertised. But like every rule before this one, you give it your best shot.
It doesn’t take long for your eyes to zero in on tonight’s target.
The guy in front of you is handsome. Objectively. Prominent features with long lashes and pouty lips. Slicked back hair, well dressed, and clearly on the lookout for a one night stand. He ticks all of your boxes - if you had any to begin with.
Somewhere over his shoulder you see Mari shoot you a thumbs up, grinning like a proud mom, and the sight helps steel your resolve. You can do this.
It doesn’t take long for the both of you to shift to the dance floor, chests pressing against one another.
His hands on your waist are warm. The way he’s moving his body - the slow grind of his hips against yours - it should be enticing.
But you feel - detached. Your brain registers everything that’s happening to you in an almost clinical way. Two hands, a set of lips, the rub of stubble against your cheek. Your body is responding in a rehearsed fashion, like it’s following a set of pre-set instructions, and all the while your mind is elsewhere.
You’re not distracted, you realize. You’re bored. The space between your ribs and beating heart is just as hollow as it was before. Briefly you wonder if the emptiness will ever fill itself back up again, or if you’re supposed to live the rest of your life searching for the missing pieces that used to make you whole.
“Gotta go to the bathroom.” You squirm out of his grasp. There’s no point in playing this game anymore, not when the promised prize is this lackluster.
“Oh yeah. Sure.”
He nods, smiling, but his eyes are already flitting around the crowded room, on the lookout for your replacement. You wander off, weaving through the crowd of swaying bodies, and take a left instead of right, heading for the backdoor instead of the bathroom.
The midnight air is cool against your skin and you breathe it in greedy gulps.
Your mind clears and suddenly fatigue seeps in. Here, hidden in the shadows, you allow your mask to slip. You’re tired of pretending that everything is okay, that this endless list of do's and don’ts you’ve been following is the only way to achieve happiness.
And maybe this is the universe’s way of telling you that you should stop running away from your feelings. That no matter how much you pretend, the truth is always there, sitting under the scabs you’ve covered up with makeshift bandages.
There’s a pull, a magnetism you’re weak to. Your eyes land on his familiar figure like you knew he was there to begin with and your world comes to standstill. A feeling you can’t name threatens to burst from your chest.
The gravity must be a two-way street, one of two planets circling around each other, for his gaze somehow lifts and your eyes meet for the first time in months.
The moment he spots you, a three second beat passes with him frozen in place, like his body doesn’t know whether to flee or disappear into the ground. Then, after a small eternity, he relaxes back into his signature slouch, resigning himself to whatever twisted plan fate has schemed against him.
When he doesn’t budge from his position, you decide to approach him, well aware this is going against RULE 4 : AVOID YOUR EX AT ALL COSTS. ANYWHERE HE IS LIKELY TO SHOW UP, DO NOT GO. With every step you take all of your hard work goes down the drain but -
For the first time tonight, your chest thrums with nervous anticipation. You feel alive again - not a shell of the person you used to be or a puppet imitating who you wished you could become.
“It’s been a while," you start off, hoping it comes off casual. It doesn’t.
He sneaks a glance in your direction before looking back down at the cigarette plucked between two lips. He lights it and takes a long drag before looking back at you.
“You’ve been doing well.”
The phrasing throws you off. It’s not a question so you don’t know how to answer. You also don’t know why he thinks that, if it’s the fact you’re out right now instead of sleeping through the pain of a broken heart, or if he’s asked one of your friends how you’ve been doing. Maybe he’s seen your life through pictures, drawn up conclusions that only reinforce his decision.
“… I’m trying to.”
Trying. With him, you were always trying. Trying to be more, trying to be less. Bending, shrinking, expanding.
Something in his face softens at that. Maybe he realizes it, too.
“You will be.” He says it with a note of finality, of certitude. Like the few years he has more than you grants him knowledge you’re not privy to.
“Well, what if I won’t?” You huff, wrapping your arms around yourself. “What if - what if I feel like this forever?”
It’s a childish question, one that probably cements his view of you. In the past you’d always crafted your sentences with care, trying to match his maturity in words but the break-up has made you realize he’d always seen through your act.
A smile plays at his lips, not reaching his eyes. “Forever is a myth. You’ll see - you’ll find a guy who actually deserves you, and everything I said will start to make sense.”
It’s infuriating - the way he decides these things for you without your consent. Like your feelings don’t matter when faced with logic and facts.
“I love you. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
“You don’t want love,” corrects Yoongi, albeit gently, like he knows his words might shatter you if he isn’t careful. “You just want me.”
You swallow, mulling his words over. Trying to understand the unsaid.
“I’m no good for you.” He repeats his words from the break-up.
“But-” You look down, frowning. “What does that matter? I’ve always been happier with you. Now I’m just - I’m…I don’t know anymore. I don’t know.”
Your voice tapers off. You just feel so stupid. Young, stupid. Sifting through the ashes of your relationship, desperate to salvage the bits that hadn’t burned to dust.
Unshed tears blur your vision. You clench your jaw, determined to not break down completely. Yoongi's features twist, his heart weakened by your pathetic appearance, and for a fleeting moment you can see past his unyielding veneer.
“Kitten,” it’s spoken softly, so softly you can pretend it’s a term meant solely for you.
You can see he regrets saying it as soon as the word tumbles out, unbidden. A slip of the tongue. Yet, you latch onto the sliver of comfort offered before he can take it back.
As soon as you step into his personal space, your world shifts on its axis and adjusts. You feel all the floaty parts of yourself slot into place as they were meant to be.
“Yoongi, I miss you.”
When he stares into your eyes, you don’t look away, hoping he’ll see the truth for what it is. How those three words fail to sum up the extent of your never-ending yearning.
“It’s for the best,” he says. Still, he allows you to take his free hand in between your own. It’s cold to the touch, like his skin is carved from marble, but it only makes you squeeze tighter, hoping your warmth will be enough for the both of you.
If life was a chess board, with set rules and clear winners, maybe you’d relent and accept that there was a better fit for you somewhere out there. Someone who was emotionally available, who made time for you, and gave you the validation you needed.
You didn’t start dating Yoongi expecting these things, though.
“But what relationship is perfect?” You demand hotly, fire in your veins. “I’ve never wanted that from you. I don’t care about that. You said I didn’t want love. That’s not true. I don’t believe what you gave me wasn’t love.”
Yoongi listens, patient as always. He takes another drag from his cigarette and silence hangs in the air, heavy with want and regret.
“It’s not fair to you.” He looks away, weak. “I feel like I can do anything and get away with it. I don’t want to have that kind of power over you.”
Your mind races as it processes his confession. It’s the first time he’s phrased it in other terms than ‘you should’, ‘you deserve’, you, you, you.
“I don’t…can’t we work out this out together? Is it easier for you to shut people out than fix things? Was it… was it that easy breaking up with me?”
“It’s not easy.” He wets his lips. “It hasn’t been easy. I only - I’ve only wanted what was the best for you. What I thought would be the best for you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I was hurt, though.”
Yoongi squeezes your hand back. The touch is everything you remember - secure, comforting, reassuring.
“I’m sorry. I’ve never wanted that.”
A pause and then, whispered in the night for only you to hear, “I’m afraid I’ll keep hurting you.”
“Whatever you’ve done in the past… It hurts more now, when we’re apart.”
He swallows audibly but his eyes never leave yours. In them, you see your emotions reflected. Logic and facts are meaningless now. The love you'd tried to smother out blazes into a wildfire, so untameable and overwhelming Yoongi can only get caught in it.
When you stand on your toes and lean in to press your lips against his, he doesn't move to stop you. What remains of his cigarette falls to the floor by his feet, forgotten.
It’s disgustingly easy falling back into bed with Yoongi. You’re partly to blame, though, for having built your world around him, for programming your body to only respond to him. When he kisses you and your knees go weak, you can’t imagine anyone else getting you this keyed up. His hands play you with as much skill as a virtuoso masters his instrument, plucking sigh after sigh of pleasure from your lips.
“These are cute.”
His thumb plays with the small bow adorning the front of your brand new pair of underwear. A self-care gift to yourself. They'd looked nice when you'd tried them on but now they look slightly out of place - the ruffled, pale pink fabric a stark contrast against his black bed sheets.
“Yeah…” You lift your hips, trying to entice him without needing to voice out your needs. “Wanted to get laid tonight.”
“Yeah?” Yoongi smiles but there’s an edge to it. He laughs as he snaps the band of your lace underwear against your hipbone. “You planned on bringing any old guy home tonight?”
Yoongi doesn't get jealous. But - sometimes - he gets weirdly possessive, intent on reminding you how only he affects you. It's silly, this need for validation, especially because you've never shied away from telling him how much you want him. You suppose that's just another difference between the two of you - you speak love in words, him through actions.
“Uh-huh. Wanted to forget.”
His hands continue to map out your body. He's lazy about it, like time isn't important - even though the both of you have to be up by seven to catch your morning lectures.
“Found someone but - wasn’t fun. Only thought about - ah - you.”
“He would’ve been so lucky, though. Look at you.” His hands travel up your thighs, opening up your legs further so that you’re exposed shamelessly. “So fuckin' pretty.”
Your mind flickers back to the guy you'd danced with earlier. You can't even remember what he looks like, let alone his name. All you know is that no one in that club you could have gone home with tonight could ever measure up to this.
“You still get so wet, kitten.” Yoongi kisses down your neck while deft fingers slide under the band of your underwear. He swipes through the small puddle of arousal, his fingers ice cold against your heat.
A moan escapes your lips, your hips pushing down against his hand in search for more friction. He lets you do as you please for a few drawn out seconds before pinning your hips in place, growling against your ear in warning.
“Tell me,” He forces you to hold his stare. “Would you have let him play with your pussy, hm?”
You bite your lips, hesitant. “N-no.”
“Liar.” Yoongi kisses you, tongue pressing against your own, until you can’t think straight. “You think he would’ve gotten you this wet? Sopping like this?”
His fingers thrust harder to prove his point, loud squelches ringing in your ears. It’s so fucking embarrassing to hear the proof of your desire but Yoongi smirks, amused by your discomfort.
“No, no.” You moan, pussy clamping to keep him buried deep. “Only y-you. I’m yours.”
“That’s right, kitten. I trained your pussy to take cock, get it this fuckin’ wet.” He yanks off your new - now sodden - pair of underwear and stares between your legs, famished. A shiver runs down your spine, each filthy word going straight to your core. "Gonna make you squirt all over my tongue. Remind you who this pussy belongs to."
"Fuck." You squeeze your eyes shut, afraid that the image of Yoongi's head between your thighs will be enough material to push you over.
"Look at me." Yoongi slaps your thigh, his expression unforgiving. "You're gonna watch me while I eat this pussy."
You nod, already half delirious. You know you're no match for his tongue - a fact he loves reminding you the best way he knows how. Before meeting Yoongi, you'd always been wary of the idea of oral sex. What if you smelled weird? Looked weird? You'd never imagined a guy could actually get off eating you out but Yoongi literally thrives off the sounds you make when his lips are attached to your throbbing clit. He wants you loud, neighbors be damned.
"Cum whenever you want," he instructs, lowering his head so that he's eye level your soaked cunt. Hunger is set deep on every line of his face, the muscles in his jaw tense from having to hold himself back.
You blink, not believing him for a second.
"Cum," he challenges, his pupils dark with arousal. "But I'm not gonna stop until you're begging for my cock."
i need part 2 of thinking about you omg
HIGHLY REQUESTED!!!! Hope you all love ❤️
The Thought of You
Part 2 of Thinking About You
You couldn’t fight off the smile that crept onto your face as you read the words Timothee texted you. You studied each word of his text.
Your phone vibrated in your hand as you read the sentence for a third time.
“I hope you’re thinking about me.”
You texted back too quickly, “I am,” not caring how eager you seemed.
You watched as the three dots moved at the bottom of your screen, then stopped. Then started again.
“I hope this isn’t off putting, but I think about you a lot.”
You bit your bottom lip as you texted him back, “I think about you all the time, Tim.”
Lost in the texts, you had stopped touching yourself, your hand resting in your panties as you waited for his texts to come through. Another set of dots appeared on your screen indicating he was typing a response. You waited anxiously.
“So, besides thinking of me…what else are you doing?”
He knew. He knew you were touching yourself and he wanted you to say it. You wouldn’t. You couldn’t. Not in a million years would you admit to him that you were fingering yourself to the thought of him. Maybe he was touching himself too…maybe then you’d be able to admit it, but that would require him saying so first. You didn’t think it was something he’d admit either. You were pretty sure the two of you would be stuck in a cycle of wanting each other but nev—
“Are you doing anything with those thoughts, y/n?”
Holy shit. He definitely knew. What do you say to that? Fuck. You typed a number of responses, but erased all of them. As you stared at the screen, the cursor in your text box blinked at you menacingly. Timothee’s third text in a row came in,
“Because I am.”
Your mouth hung open. There was no way this was happening. He hadn’t fully admitted what he was doing, maybe he was…no he was definitely touching himself, what else could that text mean? Still you needed clarification.
“And what exactly are you doing with those thoughts, Timothee?”
He texted back quickly, “Ah okay. You want me to spell it out for you?”
“Yes.” You needed him to, actually, to make sure your mind was in the same place his was.
You weren’t sure if he was going to respond. The chat dots didn’t appear at the bottom of the screen. Did you scare him away? You put your phone face down on the bed, the anticipation becoming too much for you to handle. Thoughts rushed through your head. Why did you pick up your phone, you never usually do when you’re touching yourself, not till after you cam.
A soft ding front from your phone sounded and it was in your hands in seconds.
“I’m thinking about you…and I’m touching myself. I touch myself every night to the thought of you. I want you so bad. I’m sorry if this scares you away, but damn, I want you in every way there is to have you.”
The room spun around you. This was happening. You didn’t want to keep him waiting for your response for too long. You didn’t want him to think he scared you away. But what do you say to that?
“What do you think about us doing?” You texted, still not readily able to admit that you were also touching yourself.
“Well, I think about you…of course. I think about touching you and kissing you. Kissing your mouth, your neck, your collar bones…just every inch of you.”
You swallowed hard and slid your fingers back into your folds. You were wetter than you were before and your fingers slid easily around your clit. You didn’t respond, enjoying the thought of his lips on your body, wetting your skin with his tongue. You closed your eyes as you rubbed your self, feeling a tingling tightness approaching, then vanishing.
“Are you touching yourself, y/n?”
His text brought you back, your finger slowed on your clit. There was no running away now.
“Yes, I am.”
“Fuck, that’s so hot. Are you thinking of me? I hope you are.” He texted back, all to quickly.
There was no turning back. You’d come this far.
“I’m thinking of you, I’m pretending my fingers are yours.”
There it was, all laid out in written text. Lust. Want. Need.
“Holy shit. You have no idea how turned on I am. I’m so hard thinking about you touching yourself.”
The idea of Timothee Chalamet with his dick in his hand was an idea you had never explicitly thought of, not until now. You wondered how he liked it, how firmly he gripped his cock as he pumped himself.
He texted again, “run your hands down your body, from your neck to your breasts, down your stomach and back to your pussy. Pretend it’s me.”
You did what he said and slowly ran your hands down your body, creating chills on your skin, your nipples peaked. You opted to take your shorts off completely giving you more access to work your clit.
“I want you to pretend your hand is my pussy, Timothee. I’m so wet for you. I want you so bad.”
You couldn’t believe the words you were typing, but they were true. You wanted him and you were soaked for him.
“Put a finger inside, y/n, pretend it’s my dick.”
You slid finger inside, pumping yourself lightly. You knew he’d be way better at it, reaching spots you’d only dreamed of reaching.
“Put another one in,” his second text came through.
Then a third, “say my name when you do it.”
You found yourself whispering his name as you slid a second finger inside yourself.
A fourth text, “I want you to make yourself cum.”
You stopped your movement. Making yourself cum wasn’t ever a task you were able to accomplish. You had sex before and cam that way, but through masturbation? Never.
“Uhm..I can’t do that.” You didn’t know why you were telling him this. You could lie, pretend like you cam to the thought of your fingers as his cock. The thought of it actually hanging off the edge of a climax but you couldn’t bring yourself there.
“Why not? :(”
Ugh. Not the frowny face. You found yourself being completely candid with him again, “well, to be honest, I can’t make myself cum.”
He was typing. You held your phone close to your face in anticipation of his text. The chat dots appeared at the bottom of the screen again as a knock sounded at your door. You jumped, searching for your shorts, your phone clattering to the floor.
“It’s me,” Timothee’s voice sounded from the other side of the door. In the moment, you forgot you were staying at a hotel and Timothee was rooming down the hall.
You gave up on the shorts, cracking the door open enough to see his eyes peeking down at you and half of a smile on his beautiful face.
You cracked the door a bit wider allowing half of his body in.
“I’d like to help you with your…issue.” He winked.
Tags: @imnotoverlyobsessive @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @chicchanelcigs @scentedkittenperfection @timotheeisthelomll @mxciscastleintheair @weasleytwinscumslut @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1
Being Asahi’s Crush Part Two: Operation GAG brought to you by Suga’s schemes
Notes: Welcome to part two! Part one is here :)
Description: headcanons about suga scheming and hinata being precious, part two of four
Characters: you, karasuno’s vbc
Warnings: you get hit in the head with a volleyball and somehow sprain your wrist in the process
Word Count: 1.8k
I wholeheartedly believe that this man knows how to give gifts
Look at me and tell me he wouldn’t know exactly what to give everyone he loves
That being said, he doesn’t know what to get you
He likes you so much and with the cultural difference, he doesn’t want to offend you/make you uncomfy or do literally anything that would ruin his chances with you
Hell he wouldn’t want to ruin the friendship either because you’re one of the only people not to judge him off his looks alone
So now he’s in an awkward stage
When is he not in an awkward stage lets be real
Anyways our lovely and chaotic sugawara notices this immediately
He devises a plan
Thus creating Operation Get the Ace a Girl, or Operation GAG
Okay maybe the name could use some work
But the plan is going to work, yeah?
Let me explain
There were three phases
Phase one: they spend time together
Phase two: they confess to one another
Phase three: they get together and make beautiful babies
Easy peasy lemon squeezy
Except you aren’t in the same year which means you aren't in the same classes
And it appeared that you were very busy after school
And they don’t know what you like
Okay this is gonna be harder than he thought
But never fear, karsuno’s goddess Kiyoko has a loophole
“It may be a good idea to recruit another manager to keep Hitoka-chan from getting overwhelmed next year.”
Kiyoko you brilliant woman queen goddess
Now suga has another plan to devise
Commence Operation Recruit the Foreigner or Operation RF for short
Much better than operation gag if i do say so myself
But for this to work, he needs help
Help from a certain ray of sunshine
From some light stalking asking around, he found out that you enjoyed tutoring elementary and middle school aged kids in your spare time
So he recruits Hinata, the babiest baby to ever baby ever
He doesnt tell hinata the whole truth, just that he should ask the foreign second year for help in his foreign language class and if things go well, he should see if she was interested in becoming their third manager
Hinata, you sweet summer child you
Baby boy didn’t even consider that his senpai could have ulterior motive for having another manager
But alas, he asks
And how can you say no??????? He hits you with 🥺 when asking for help
Seriously only a monster could say no
And so it begins!
He explains that it would be best to study near the gym so he can make it to practice on time
You shrug, honestly not caring all too much
But then he invites you to stay and watch because he wants his cute senpai’s praise and attention and he wants to show off a bit, sweet tangerine has a small puppy crush
You say yes, because as we’ve established, you genuinely enjoy playing and watching volleyball
You two are there first and he’s talking so so so fast and showing you everything with no regard to whether you know anything about volleyball or not
Your heart melts because AH HE'S SO EXCITED
Like hinata is such a cute lil guy and he wants to share the things that make him happy because it could make them happy toooooooo
As you can see, i am platonically whipped for precious #10
And so are you, Y/N, I’m happy we have something in common
OKAY BACK TO THE PROGRAM
So the next people to come are obviously the captain and the coach
You feel a bit bad for crashing practice so you explain that you were helping Hinata with his course work and he asked you to stay
Daichi smells something fishy
He knows suga’s schemes when he sees them
But he agrees and so does coach ukai on the stipulation that you aren’t a distraction
Thats a lot ask lmao these boys have two moods: volleyball and girls
I mean… same
But this can go one of two ways:
You distract everyone
You motivate everyone to play their best as to impress the new girl
spoilers its the second one
Suga thought it was going to take a minute for the plan to really kick in, but he was pleasantly surprised to see you at practice
He didn’t tell asahi you were there
He was gonna wait cause hes a bastard that loves drama
So everyone shows up and practice is about to begin
Hinata is an oblivious bb that is somehow unaware of the absolute chaos that is about to ensue when he excitedly announced that he asked the pretty second year to watch practice
Deadass Hinata is like
“I GOT Y/N-SENPAI TO WATCH US TODAY :D”
How he said :D idk but he did and it was precious
Tanaka and Noya get whiplash from how hard they turn their heads to where you, Yachi, and Kiyoko are standing
You smile and wave at them while you promise not to be a bother
“Oh, Y/N-san, you’ll never be a bother to us!” Suga reassures while elbowing asahi
Asahi.exe has stopped working
He was conflicted
He wanted to show off because you like volleyball
But he doesn’t want to fuck up and make a fool of himself
At this point coach ukai was getting impatient and practice starts
You chill with yachi and kiyoko
Yachi asks you if you were a model and felt like throwing herself into the sun when you said no
You talk about your old school and how lucky the boys were to have managers as nice as them
Kiyoko offhandedly mentioned something about needing another manager for next year when she leaves so Yachi isn’t alone wink wink nudge nudge
You say you’ll think about it
Kiyoko is pleased
Yachi is shocked at how slick Kiyoko is
Lets be real here, kiyoko knows
What does she know?
She knows about suga’s plan and she wanted in even if she didn’t say anything
All she needed was a few minutes after hinata wooed you with his precious boy tendencies and she had it in the bag
But would this be a haikyuu headcanon set without someone getting hit in the face with a volleyball?
No it would not
Let the headshots begin
This time, it is you
But asahi doesn’t hit you!
I’m pretty sure he would drop dead if he did tbh
Instead its tanaka
Sorry bro, i’ll say some nice things at your funeral
So tanaka is up to serve and at the same time, you’re walking over to grab something
The ball goes out of bounds because tanaka wanted to show off and he hit it with enough force to dent metal
But instead of metal, it was the back of your head
You fall forward, hitting your head again and land on your wrist as you try to catch yourself
The gym erupts into chaos
Yachi is sobbing
Yamaguchi is shell shocked
Suckyshima is laughing
Kiyoko is getting the first aid kit
Daichi and suga are running to you
Kageyama is stunned
Hinata is D:
Noya is maiming Tanaka
Tanaka is being maimed by Noya
Poor sweet baby asahi is furious
But his body won’t move
He just witnessed the attempted murder of his girlfriend fiance wife mother of his children and pets crush friend!!
It takes him a good five minutes to come out of the shock
Now back to you, my friend
So i don’t know any language other than english
I know i know im working on it
But i can imagine that getting hit in the head twice can disorient someone to the point of not being able to process a non-native language for a good few minutes
So when they try to ask if you’re okay and you don’t immediately respond with words they’re concerned
But what’s even more concerning is the look you give them
You look at them like they grew two heads
Everything becomes even more chaotic
Tsukishima actually grows slightly concerned
Hinata is actively crying
Kageyama is yelling that he shouldn't be crying because he was not the one that was hurt
Yamaguchi was yelling for someone to call an ambulance
Asahi is still frozen
Tanaka and Noya are praying lmao
Kiyoko is back with the first aid kit
Daichi and Suga panic as well
They think you’ve forgotten where you are and who you are
Coach Ukai and Takeda, the reasonable adults deescalate the situation like pros
Coach Ukai tells everyone to give you space
Takeda aska series of questions to which you’re like
So with his limited knowledge of your native language, he asks if you’re okay and then you nod
Okay everyone breathe a sigh of relief
He helps you up and walks you to the nurse and to get paperwork for the incident
You can’t tell me there won’t be any paperwork for this lmao
After you leave, they try to continue on with practice
Key word being try
Everyone is very worried so it ends early
Shocking, i know
Anyways, they all feel awful about what happened
So when the next day comes and you aren’t in class, everyone assumes you’re dead
Practice turns into a eulogy
Rest in peace my love
Jk you aren’t dead, just navigating an entirely different healthcare system and that takes some time
To make it worse, no one has your contact info and it’s a friday
So they have to go the entire weekend believing they killed you
But then you show up on Monday with a wrist brace
You didn’t break it, just sprained it
Tanaka omg he literally falls to the ground and begs for forgiveness
He thought you would be seething
You were upset at first, but you had gotten over it
You laugh it off
He is s h o o k
it was music to his ears
The third years weren’t lying, you really were super duper chill
When he stands up, you punch his shoulder lightly with your good hand and complement his serves
Again, he is s h o o k
But it was break time and the break was over so you parted ways
Noya deadass had to drag him to his classroom because he didn’t want to leave
Hinata, the sunshine baby boy he is, brought you snacks and cried because he felt so bad
Poor baby was blaming himself because he invited you to watch
Pls hug him tightly and give him all the head pats
You do lol
You give him a small hug after getting permission and ask if he needs help
You keep helping him, but you don’t watch practices
So Operation Recruit the Foreigner fails
P S Y C H
You actually missed volleyball a lot more than you thought, so you stayed behind one day, wrist brace and all, to talk to kiyoko
She was happy and happily helped you talk to the coach and takeda
They triple checked you were sure after what happened last time
You were like
Fuck yeah mate lets go
Operation Recruit the Foreigner was a success
Can you write homelander x male reader?
Lay All Your Love On Me
“You interest me; besides, wouldn’t you like to be on the arm of the world’s best superhero?” he offers, “Anywhere you want - Rome, Paris, Sydney - you name it.”
“Wow, not even a first date, and you’re already pulling out the stops,” you quip. He leans close and offers his arm; you take it, “Alright then, flyboy, surprise me.”
Homelander x Male!Reader
Supe!Reader | Fluff |
I think it'd be funny if Homelander dated Stan Edgar's son, don't ask me why, I just think it'd be. Reader Has Psionic Powers - telepathy, telekinesis, teleportation, precognition, etc. I didn't flesh it out much lmao.
The overhead lights are practically buzzing, and you can feel the headache coming on from a mile away, but Vought’s little mixer is just getting started. Taking a three-day all-nighter was probably the cause of your headache, and it doesn’t help that most of the people here are buzzed enough to have their thoughts up at a high volume.
“Get back upstairs.” Stan Edgar may be cold, but he’s still a good father, “Your eyes are shining again, and you look five seconds away from passing out.”
You shake your head, “I can handle a few hours of socializing.” He stares you down with concern, but you wave him off, a small smile on your face, “I’ll be fine,” you reassure him. He reluctantly leaves you when he’s called away by Madelyn, “Three more hours,” you whisper to yourself. You’ve opted out of drinking wine, but the water’s not doing much to help. Your vision’s not hazy yet, but you have a hard time with it; you're clenching your eyes tightly, lightly smacking the side of your head to drown out the minds around you. One of them is louder than the others, and it comes corralling right into you. Your glass gets caught by the other person, and you take a moment to ground yourself, holding onto the other person’s arms.
You hear the annoyance and confusion in their voice before you feel it, “Sorry, I…uh…I didn’t see you there…” you apologize, and glancing up, you find yourself looking into the Homelander’s eyes. He looks confused as if trying to place you. You back away but keep a hold on him when your vision swims again.
“No problem,” he says, with a dashing smile, “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”
You put on a weak smile, “I come around every now and then, my father works for Vought…and I help out…with a few things sometimes.”
He hmmed, then a worried look crossed his face; unfortunately, you didn’t get a chance to ask why before you lost consciousness. Not exactly the best conversation starter. When you came to the first time, it was to loud buzzing; you’d curled into yourself, the arms around you held you close, but the voices just muffled into one another. The next time was shorter and ten times louder; the third time was really the charm. A doctor was chatting away with your father; Homelander was far off to the side, hands behind his back; thankfully, the lights in the room were dimmer, and you were no doubt far enough from the party. When you sit up, you get the others’ attention; Stan's the first to approach you, kneeling by the couch with his infamous I told you so look.
“Yeah, yeah, you were right,” you say, pulling a face at him when he shakes his head.
“Hopefully, this will teach you the importance of sleep,” he lectures you, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but thank you, John.” You snicker at how displeased he sounds to be thanking Homelander, “I’m grateful someone of your caliber was around to help my son.”
“Of course, no problem,” he replies, “I never did catch your name,” Homelander points out, looking over to you.
“You don’t need to,” Stan cut the conversation, dismissing Homelander.
“You could’ve been nicer; he did help me out,” you comment, watching the hero walk away.
“I’d rather take out my tongue and strangle myself with it,” he remarks.
“Dramatic, aren’t we?”
“You don’t have to clean up his messes,” he states, “he and the rest of the seven aren’t as pleasant as the public loves to think.”
“Oh? But he is cute, in a murderous puppy sort of way,” you say, laying back again.
Stan shakes his head, “Your taste in men concerns me at times.”
In all seriousness, Homelander was interesting; even having returned to the party, you could still hear his thoughts from your place on the couch. They were mostly loud and unpleasant, directed towards the people around him as they did nothing more than bore him - or in the case of the poor Vought employee who he’s currently speaking to, annoy him. You could practically feel the god-complex, but on another level, he was attractive, in his own murderous way, which really must say something about you.
Between bed rest and everything else, you don’t have Homelander at the forefront of your mind; aside from your meeting, you don’t see him again until the next Vought party. A Sidekick Extravaganza - the Seven and all of Vought’s other assets get a chance to meet and inspire their younger fans - unlike the previous party, this one takes place during the day and is held in the nearby parks, with each supe getting their own section. You mingle between the Seven, watching the events from afar, it’s not terribly boring, but you find more fun in the thoughts of the others around you.
When you’re not eavesdropping on minds, you’re setting off harmless little pranks - a bench topples over here and there - nothing major. “Nice trick.”
You turn to find Homelander standing by you, arms behind his back; you shrug, “It’s better than watching the Deep try and stop kids from eating his fishy friends.” He snickers, “I never got a chance to thank you,” you say, “for the other night, sorry about my father.”
“Father…Stan Edgar, is…your father?” He runs through the question a few times as his mind takes the time to process the information. ‘Edgar has children?’
“Yes, two, in fact, though really we’re adopted.”
He steps back, ‘How did he—no, can he read minds?’
You nod, a grin on your face, “Yes, I can read minds.” He leans forward, slightly intrigued.
‘Can you actually read minds, or are you just fucking with me?’
‘I can do a whole lot more than that,’ you say in mind; his eyes widen at hearing your voice inside his head.
“Ok, not bad,” he commends, stepping close. There’s a crash then as one of his sidekicks knocks something over, “Excuse me, be right back,” he says.
You go back to watching the events all around; by noon, the sun is out in full force, and you sigh in relief when it all ends. You’re almost out of the park when Homelander finds you again, landing beside you; his arm comes around your shoulder, “Where are you going? Our conversation’s not over yet,” he states.
“It’s hot, it’s noon, and I’m hungry–”
“I’ll buy you lunch then,” he cuts in.
“All for a conversation?” you tease.
“You interest me; besides, wouldn’t you like to be on the arm of the world’s best superhero?” he asks, “Anywhere you want - Rome, Paris, Sydney - you name it.”
“Wow, not even a first date, and you’re already pulling out the stops,” you quip. He leans close and offers his arm; you take it, “Alright then, flyboy, surprise me.”
He takes you to Lucerne, Switzerland, nestled between the alps; it’s almost like a hideaway, flourishing with medieval charm. Though it’s early evening when you get there, lunch turned dinner is still lovely, and Homelander grills you with questions on your powers. “See that waiter over there,” you point out; he nods, leaning over the table, “he’s thinking about stealing from the register tomorrow night.”
“The lady over by the back,” you say, “she’s been staring at you since you sat down,” you take a bite of your dessert, “and…oh, well, that’s not a PG-rated thought.”
“How far’s your range?” he asks, but you shrug; you’ve never gone as far as testing something like that, “Doesn’t Edgar make you train or something?”
“Not really; I don’t do combat like you or the rest of the Seven,” you respond, “I’m a therapist, but I’m on a break; seeing into people’s heads tends to get overwhelming in the profession.” You leave the restaurant and walk along the bridge; it’s well past regular hours in Switzerland; when you return home, the sun is nearly set. “Thanks for the food and the not date,” you say. The park may be emptier now, but you can feel the glare Stan is no doubt sending Homelander from the entrance.
“Any chance I can charm an actual date out of you?”
“Why Homelander—” you gawk in mock surprise.
“John,” he corrects, “Call me John.”
“Alright then, John, you’ve got yourself a date.”
One day I will write something darker for Homelander, until then, stay hydrated.
could I please request some hickey drabbles (like you did with Lucifer, Mammon, and Barb) but with Levi, Satan, and Beel? 👉👈 I love marking so much
★ 𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗩𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗞𝗘𝗬𝗦 — 𝗟𝗘𝗩𝗜, 𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗔𝗡, 𝗕𝗘𝗘𝗟
note: yep i love marking as well so i enjoyed writing this request x
tags: gender neutral reader. verrry suggestive, marking, possessiveness, slight exhibitionism ? (levi), mention of blood (beel).
★ LEVIATHAN only leaves visible hickeys on you when his envy gets the best of him. his normally anxious personality will dissappear in an instant if he sees you being all lovey-dovey with his brother. levi has no problem pulling you into his embrace from behind during your little conversation– your back pressed against his chest– as he slowly parts his lips right above your shoulder blades.
leviathan's arms wrap tightly around your middle while his hand sneaks up the collar of your shirt down, revealing as much skin as possible to leave hickeys on. the third oldest wastes no time before sucking on the flesh of your neck— looking at the brother who's obviously taken aback through his eyelashes with nothing but a mix of envy and anger. he doesn't stop until the other demon takes the hint and leaves the room. once levi finally pulls back to watch the deep red markings he left on you, his blush darkens.
"this... looks better on you. now they will know not to mess with you in that kind of way."
★ SATAN doesn't finish his day until he has marked you; whether it would be on your neck, high up your thighs, or chest. of course, he would never miss the chance to put a deep red and slight purple mark on the most visible places of your body, however seeing those same hickeys of his on parts of your body that only he is allowed to see satisfies him some more.
satan slowly unbottens your blouse as he had you pinned against his bookshelf— his deep breaths tickling your ears. he hadn't said a word to you after you entered his room and only quickly caged you between him and the wobbly surface. although, you could sense his wrath just by looking at that clearly pissed off facial expression of his. his tongue licked the spot right in between your chest before sucking on it slightly until he made sure that there was at least a faint marking visible before moving on to the next spots.
"stop squirming so much and stay still or i won't be done with you until the next morning."
★ BEELZEBUB doesn't leave his markings on you as much as the others, however when he does, he's going all out. beel will accidentally bite too hard when he's frustrated, maybe even to the point where a drop of blood flows out of your flesh for him to quickly lap up with his tongue. it's easy to spot his frustration and need to leave hickeys once he walks up to you with his hands balled into a fist.
beel's hungry gaze focused on your bare neck the moment he locked eyes with you in the hallway. you were oblivious to the flirting coming from that lowly demon who had been speaking to you ever since the start of lunch break. he pulled you to the nearest bathrooms and pushed you into the stall furthest away from the door. his large hands held you by your shoulders while his teeth sunk into your skin. the avatar of gluttony seemed to be rougher than before as you could feel bits of his saliva and the tingly feeling everywhere on your neck in a span of just a couple seconds. he held you close to him afterwards, still placing soft pecks on your jaw.
"sorry. i couldn't hold myself back today and may have gone way too far.. though, uhm, do you mind if i keep you busy for some more?"