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#it's a DAMN good thing i always actually LOOK at what just poured out from the case before i take it
slippery-minghus · 6 months
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sometimes i look at things my mom has done... simple tasks.... and i see where the intellectual delays/disability i fought tooth and nail to overcome growing up came from.... 💀
#no joke my mother is the stupidest person i've ever met#like not even trying to be mean (much)#personal#so like. before she left she wanted to know if there was anything she could do for me that would be helpful#so i asked her to fill my pill cases - i have two for my nightly meds so i only have to fill them twice a month#i take four meds at night. one of each. pretty straightforward#...right?#but this woman is incapable of any sort of planning-forethought#so even though i explained it clearly i realized as i was explaining it that it mightve been too complicated a task for her#(how this woman survived this long i don't know. sheer boomer hutzpah i guess)#but she has a huge complex about being made to feel incompetent so i left her to figure it out#and lo and behold#it's a DAMN good thing i always actually LOOK at what just poured out from the case before i take it#(bc i'm not immune to mistakes either but... i'm just. careful not to make them to begin with.)#(and there's one med i cant skip and another that if i accidentally take two i'll be so ill i can't go to work)#so. i check.#and fucking hell. i've had to rearrange the contents of both cases and have had uneven amounts in each#like HOW is it too hard to count out 14 pills#to do that four times and drop them one at a time into a little box#i know she wouldve had her glasses on and was in a well lit space so that was no excuse#just like#it frustrates me bc this is exactly why i developed my own tendencies to be so careful#bc if i wasn't and just took the handful of pills that was due to pop out in a few days? i'd be fucked and wouldnt know why#i'm so frustrated by this bc it's just such a glaring reminder of the incompetence i was raised under and had to learn very early on#not only to compensate for but also to expertly dance around and never point out lest mother's mental house of cards catch a slight draft#and crumble to the ground#she KNOWS she's incompetent and makes sure everyone ELSE knows it too but donT YOU DARE treat her like she's incompetent#you'd better make sure yo give her tasks she's not up for! and then when she does a shit job you better not outwardly acknowledge it's shit!#even though you both know that it is!!!#fucking hell no wonder i'm so afraid of acting w/o deliberate care + attention!! bc look at the disgusting outcomes that happen if you dont!
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saltburnedme · 4 months
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My requests are open! Message/comment to be added to the tag list!
Paring: Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader
Word count: 3520
Summary: After your last night with Oliver you question if things were even real, did you want them to be? Or are things better left unsaid.
Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), dub con, drowning (kind of, their in a bath it’s more of like a forced breath play thing no one actually dies), sex in a bath, generally fucked up smut overall again
Read part 1 here (this can be read as a one shot too)
You didn’t wake up until nearing noon, up to this point you didn’t realise that had even been an option. Moments after you realised that something must have woken you up in the first place, there was a light knock on the door from one of the maids, a welcome change to the usual bursting in and blinding you with light pouring in from the freshly opened curtain you thought for a few seconds before she did exactly that.
‘Good morning miss, did you sleep well?’ She questions, her voice cheerful as she opens the curtains letting the sunlight flood into the room. Your eyes still adjusting to the dawn, the memories of last night rushing back into your mind. Your ripped night dress and falling asleep naked must have looked suspicious enough but to add to this you were certain your hair must have been a mess. It was only upon looking down towards yourself to cover up that you found yourself wearing a different night dress, one you can’t remember ever having seen before, your hair felt as if it was tied back and your torn nightwear was nowhere to be found.
‘I slept fabulously, thank you for asking’ you reply, feeling like your speech was slurred from drowsiness.
‘Breakfast is ready downstairs’ she replied before exiting the room, the second the door closed you rushed out of bed and almost sprinted towards the mirror. Was any of it real? You were now dressed where you remember sleeping naked, your hair was tied back and brushed where you remember it being down. Your mirror was against the wall like usual and as much as you may try the damn thing wouldn’t budge an inch. The only thing remaining from the night before was the faint swell between your legs and a suspiciously red mark left around your neck, if it hadn’t been for this you would be questioning if the night previous had been real at all or if you’d finally become so delusional from tiredness that you’d hallucinated the entire thing.
You traveled through your day in a haze, you’d like to say that you hadn’t made an extra effort to seek out Oliver but you had once again wandered into every room, down every hall and through every garden, apparently after everything that had happened he was now conveniently a difficult man to find. Was he ever really there? All of those words he said and everything he did was it actually real? He did seem out of character, the Oliver you knew, albeit very vaguely, would never have come into your room, stripped you naked and fucked you like that. You weren’t even convinced he’d ever actually had sex before last night let alone was as depraved as you’d found him to be. Last night he asked you to come to him at 10pm sharp, to meet him in the bathroom that he and Felix shared, but should you go? If you doubted it was even real in the first place wouldn’t just turning up in their bath seem at the very least a little bit unhinged? You weren’t sure what to make or do with any of it, but if one thing was for certain you were going to find out.
The day hurried by and promptly turned to night, surely you’d see Oliver at dinner you thought to yourself, your little hunt that consumed your day proving fruitless. As always you dressed for dinner, this time opting for a white bias cut silk dress which clung to every curve. It somewhat resembled your torn (and now missing) night dress, the main differences being in the wider straps and being longer in length as the hem delicately brushed the floor.
You tried your best to keep your literal and metaphorical cool through the warm air of the summer night, strolling with ease through the door of the large dining room. Your eyes scanned the room for mere seconds before you found him, sitting silently in his usual seat cross from yours, eating and avoiding eye contact at all costs. Taking your seat the usual chit chat continued around you with food placed elegantly in front of you, your eyes beaming forward burning a hole into the forehead of the man across from you in the hopes that your gaze would force his hand in some way. You’d searched for him all day, where could he have been? He looked almost angry. Summoning up your last ounce of bravery you decided, the only way to fight the bull is to grab him by the horns.
‘So Oliver, how did you sleep?’ You asked loudly across the table, loud enough for the rest of the dinner guests to hear, placing a pause over all the other conversations happening in your vicinity. Out of the corner of your eye you could just about make out the puzzled faces of the rest of the table, everyone now wondering how often they’d actually heard you address each other previously to this.
‘Fine, thank you Y/N’ he replied bluntly, his gaze finally meeting yours. You’d hoped opening up some kind of conversation with him would confirm your beliefs in some way, but instead he just looked angry. Maybe that was conformation enough in itself?
‘I thought I heard something from your side of the house’ you muttered out as the conversations around you slowly begin again. His blue eyes becoming black with anger almost daring you to say more as he sat unspoken.
‘Oh did you now?’ He questions. Definitely daring, you thought to yourself. You felt almost as if you were staring out a wild animal waiting to see just how long it would take for you to blink and for him to attack.
‘Yes, I thought I heard someone walking around near my room coming from your direction’ you continue, one hand playing nervously with the soft fabric of your dress underneath the table as the other shuffles food around your plate with your fork.
‘It’s an old house, all sorts of noises’ he replies, his head tilted slightly to the side as if to work out where you were going with this line of questioning. ‘Why, was there something you needed during the night?’ He ponders. Was he still daring you or was he just as confused about this whole situation as you were? Maybe you really had imagined the whole thing. He wouldn’t be asking you that if he had something to hide surely, you knew Felix had a temper with a hairpin trigger and absolutely no one wanted to provoke that. Or maybe that was exactly the point.
‘Oh no, it’s nothing really. Don’t worry, it just woke me up is all’ you reply, trying your best to sweep this entire conversation under the rug as much as humanly possible. You wanted to shrink away and become one with your chair, hiding in plain sight almost as if to disappear completely into a puddle of your own embarrassment. With a shrug Oliver went back to eating and ignoring you again, occasionally joining in with the others conversations as you pushed your food around your plate, taking anxious mouthfuls until the plate was almost entirely emptied.
‘Please may I be excused? I’m awfully tired’ you asked, your question pointed towards Elsbeth at the head of the table.
‘Of course my darling, sleep well’ she says as you hurry off, granting the room a brief Goodnight and a polite smile before making your way down the corridor.
Despite all of this, at 10pm you found yourself pacing your room, if any of it had been real you were well aware that you were late by now, your pacing only increasing as the clock ticks to 10:01pm, 10:02pm and before you knew it 10:05pm.
‘Fuck it’ you whispered to yourself, heading out of your room and down the corridor in the direction of Oliver’s room. Taking off your shoes to be as quiet as possible, your dress swung at your ankles as you almost stormed your way towards the bathroom, your feet padding cautiously but quickly against the wooden floor.
Finally arriving after what felt like hours of walking you found the bath freshly drawn yet the room suspiciously empty. At least this partially confirmed that you hadn’t manufactured this entire situation in your haze of exhaustion. The lights dimmed to their lowest setting you can barely see into the corners of the room, you make your way over to the mirror to take in your reflection standing in front of the sink. Resting your hands against it you check the room again, still no one to be found or so you thought. Letting out a frustrated sigh you concluded that if someone was watching you, as you hoped they were, you’d give them a show.
Sliding the first silk strap down your shoulder you glide your hand across your chest, down to your shoulder and off of your arm. You follow the same with your other arm, still holding the dress to your body as you take one last look around the room before dropping your dress to the floor the white fabric pooling at your feet, a stark contrast to the darkness of the rest of the room. Your movements continued as you slipped your bra off, once released massaging your own shoulder softly to relieve yourself from the stress of the day. Your hands slipping lower you step out of your white, matching silk panties, the collection of fabrics joining your dress on the floor.
You turn away from the mirror, facing towards the bath, slowly stepping in and submerging your body in the water, the shine of the golden tub reflecting off of your skin. Dipping your hair in the water you look around the room full of hopefulness again, still, finding nothing. He had to be here, you were sure of it and if he wouldn’t come to you of his own free will, you’d make him just like he made you. Your hand begins to travel south, lowering between your legs rubbing soft circles into your clit. You feel the tension release from your body almost immediately as your pace increases, letting out a stream of breathy moans, the sound reverberating off of the tiles. Your eyes fall closed and your face begins to contort with pleasure as you feel your climax rapidly build, your mind replaying the previous night tempting your pleasure to reach its peak.
Just as quickly as your orgasm built, it was ripped away from you harshly. Your eyes still clenched shut in ecstasy you feel your wet hair being grasped firmly, pulling you under in the water. You try to hold your breath as you’re pushed under but the shock of it almost causes you to breathe the water in. Being held there for a couple of seconds your pulled up just as aggressively.
‘You think your such a clever girl, calling me out like that’ he growls, climbing on top of you still dressed in a white shirt and boxers. His body caging you in underneath him he puts his other hand around your face, squishing your jaw so that your mouth falls open, spitting into your mouth before pushing your head under water once more. You wish that you could have kept the taste of him on your tongue for a few seconds more, a thought that crossed your mind very briefly until you were filled with the panic of being drowned once again before being pulled to the surface once more.
‘Tell me why I shouldn’t just drown you now little one? You know that’s been my plan all along, fucking you and feeling you completely submissive underneath me, nothing you can do to stop me’ he growls, grinding his hard cock into the flesh of your thigh. ‘But you had to be a disobedient little whore, just like the rest of your fucking Catton family’ he continues, you open your mouth to reply but just as you breathe in to speak he plunges you under again, this time pulling your up faster, allowing you to cough up water and look up to him in fear. ‘There’s my good girl’ he sneers, this is exactly how he wanted you completely obedient and pliable underneath him. He wanted the power over you, to make you fear him and love him all at once, something that he was very much achieving. Almost as quickly as he had turned on you, his touch became soft almost loving and his words followed suit.
‘You looked so pretty in that dress, almost like an angel. You wear that for me sweetheart?’ He asks, releasing your hair to press one hand against the roll top of the bath near your head while still holding your cheeks softly in his other hand. You were almost wordless, the contrast in his actions totally throwing you off in a way you would have never expected. You thought you’d seen the darkest parts of him last night, but this was like you’d found another cavern in his soul filled with nothing but hatred for you and everyone around you.
‘Y-yes’ you stutter out, still catching your breath from being held under water, your eyes locked on his as he leans in closer, his face almost touching yours.
‘Yes, what?’ He asks, your eyes scanning his face rapidly to give him the answer he craves, the answer you wish with all your heart and mind to give him.
‘Yes.. sir’ you reply, your words coming out shakily, your body trembling in the gradually cooling water.
‘Such a good girl for me’ he says letting go of your face, his hand sliding down your curves, pulling your legs around his hips your heat pressing into his fully hardened length. He got off on drowning you, that was the first thing that sprung to mind when you felt him between your legs, he wanted your submission and my god did he have it. ‘Fuck’ he groans to himself as he grinds into you, it was almost as if he saw you as an object, just there for his ego.. and other things. Pulling his shirt over his head he discards the wet fabric to the floor beside the bath, pushing his boxers down and gliding the thick head of his cock through your folds.
‘Do you want me to fuck you angel? You’ve been such a good girl, you deserve a reward’ he asks as softly as he could in the given situation. You knew he didn’t really care what you said, if you refused he’d still take what he wanted from you but he knew you’d never turn him down not when he was the only person granting you the lustful excitement that you so craved.
‘Please sir, please fuck me’ you ask looking into his eyes in desperation.
‘Ah, that’s not quite good enough little one. Show me how much you want me’ he demands, pulling you up towards him, leaning back on his heels as he kneels in front of you, his hips lifted to your face height. Tentatively you licked down his shaft, your gaze held by his as you take more of him in your mouth. For the first time, he was letting you take control, his hands gripping the sides of the bath firmly, his knuckles whitening as his fists tighten. You knew not to break eye contact from your last time with him, he liked you to look at him, he loved the power it gave him over you as he moaned unashamed above you. Wouldn’t Felix hear? Wouldn’t you be in trouble? You thought. You’d suspected earlier today that this may be exactly what Oliver was betting on but right in this moment you didn’t care, you’d do anything to please him.
Your hands join your mouth wrapped around Oliver’s length, pumping him as his cheeks flush and one of his hands entangle in your hair gripping it and pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. ‘Fuck angel’ he almost whispers, as you feel him throbbing under your grip, he was close and you knew it. Your fists quickened their pace and you sucked his tip a little bit stronger until his eyes left yours, his head falling back against his shoulders as his eyes close and his face contorts in pleasure, pushing his tip right to the back of your throat causing you to choke as he empties himself into your windpipe, fucking your face as he rides out his orgasm. Just as his climax subsides he pulls his still hard length out of your mouth.
‘Open’ he demands, no other words. You thought he wanted to see that you’d swallowed but you hadn’t, his spend trickling out around the corners of your mouth. ‘Jesus, look at you’ his tone mixed between an insult and genuine concern. Just as you tried to swallow his load again, you were stopped feeling his mouth on yours, his tongue exploring your mouth immediately making your kiss a mixture of both of your saliva and his cum emptying your mouth of it as he pushes you back against the bath, wrapping your legs around his hips once more. The image of you like this seeming to have triggered something in him again, he immediately lines his cock up with your entrance and thrusts up into you making you let out a light scream in a mixture pleasure and pain as he splits you open.
His pace was fast, way faster than you expected as the remaining water in the bath splashes over the edges as he fucks you landing on the floor beside the tub. His eyes baring into yours once again he holds you up above the water line, the blood rushing throughout your body almost deafeningly as all of your senses heighten zoning in on Oliver. Your ruined orgasm returning almost as quickly as it left you feel yourself begin to clamp down on him, you know he can feel it, his hips grinding into yours forcing your orgasm from you almost violently.
‘Cum for me’ he asks, his tone almost begging at this point. ‘Let me hear it’ He demands, another contrast with last night, this time he wants to hear you. ‘Let them all hear it, let them know who you belong to, who fucks you like this’ his words faltering as you clamp down on him, riding out your orgasm loudly just ask he asked, the sound bouncing off the walls you were certain that they must have been able to hear you in the next village over let alone just in the house.
‘Fuck, you really are an angel, look at you’ he says, guiding your gaze to the mirrors over the sink to the side of you as you come down from your orgasm, still continuing at his blistering pace. Watching him fuck you was almost other worldly, the way the dim light reflected off of his almost translucent white skin. You could see his length thrust in and out of you as your eyes met his in the mirror. Pulling you out of your post orgasm haze he doubles down on his pace, one hand on the bath above you the other on your hip as his nails dig into your soft skin. Without warning he emptied himself inside you, pressing his lips to yours as he came within you his moans almost as loud as yours had just been.
Regaining your breaths he pulls out of you, sliding behind you in the bath washing your body clean with the remaining water as your back is pushed against his chest. You wanted to say something, to ask him what all of this meant or if it really meant anything to him at all. You knew you had feelings for him, feelings that grew stronger every time something like this happened between you. You had a need, a desperate want to make him happy, to impress him and to make him need you the way you needed him.
‘Did you enjoy your little lie in?’ He asks, some what out of context with the rest of what had just happened.
‘Uh.. yes’ you replied ‘I wasn’t aware the staff would let anyone sleep in after 8am’ you continued with a giggle.
‘That’s because they don’t. I told them to leave you be a little longer after your somewhat strenuous night’ he replies pressing kisses into your neck as he continues to clean you.
‘And they listened to you?’ You asked, partially amazed that the house staff would ever listen to the wishes of anyone other than the core members of the family.
‘They will’ He says, his voice sterner as his actions continue, pulling you in for one last kiss while running his fingers through your hair. ‘Oh they will my angel’ his words ring in your ear as you begin to fall asleep on his chest ignoring the rest of his sentence, you were his angel.
Tag list - @lillypink @ilovesaltburn @simplymakkari @hahahafucku @rorysgirl @jubileexoxo @grandpaintersuit @anniemay67 @idontevenknow1359 @frayafriggafrey
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serotonins-stuff · 4 months
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3 am preggy cravings
Jjk men ° • . • ° •
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♡︎Sypnosis: You wake up in the early hours of the morning craving your favorite snack. Luckily your husband is always there to help you.
♡︎Featuring: Gojo, Toji, nanami, Geto and Choso
♡︎Warnings: none just, fluff and kisses
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Gojo
It was rare for the both of you to be up like this, at three am with Satoru staring at his paperwork in the bedroom.
You told him that you were just going to go to the bathroom, but then a sudden craving for ice cream hit.you like a truck.That's how you found yourself sitting on the kitchen floor, teary eyed as you stared at the freezer vacant of any sweet treat.
This was probably the most heartbreaking thing you've experienced this week. Tears turned into sniffles which then led to soft whimpers, and not long after your despair you heard footsteps approaching the kitchen.
He was worried out of his mind that something might've happened to you, but he was confused when he could not sense any kind of threatening aura.
"Baby?"
His laid eyes of your slumped figure and jumped into action, craddling your trembling figure in his warm arms.
"Hey" he cooed, wiping your tears away and lifting your chin up to look at him. You were in perfectly good shape, so if he had to take a guess, he'd say it has to be some sort of pregnancy thing. "What's wrong sweets?“
"Toru" you wailed, wrapping your arms around his neck. He could feel goosebumps rise on his skin from the contact of your chilled flesh. The freezer was open, displaying the broad selection of different meats.
"You wanna cook?" He asked and you shook your head. He pondered for a bit, a hand rubbing your back soothingly while you cuddled up into him.
"Were you feelin cold?"
You shook your head, causing him to run a nervous hand through his white locks. He looked at you with a soft smile on his face.
"Sweetheart I can't help if you don't tell me what's wrong"
You felt stupid for what you were about to say. Adamantly so, you didn't think you'd be able to go to sleep without having the cool taste of your favorite ice cream clouding your senses. The tears wounlnt stop coming out and you cursed yourself internally for behaving like this.
"I'm cra-craving ice-cream" you hicupped, letting all the tears flow onto Satorus shirt.
He didn't seem to mind, he was actually relieved because he thought something mighve actually been wrong.
"Okay, c'mon" he cooed, rubbing nice.and tender circles on your big belly. "I can't have my sweet girl cryin on the floor"
"I didn't want t-to bother y-"
"Shhhhh" he whispered, before placing a gentle kiss on your lips. "Don't worry about stuff like that, I'll go get your ice cream ok?"
You nodded, before lifting your hand to shut the freezer. Still sitting pretty in your husbands arms. He stayed with you until you hand calmed down, making sure to give you all the cuddles, kisses and love you needed before lifting you up effortlessly and plopping you onto the bed.
Like a man on a mission he grabbed his keys on the counter and went to the store. It didn't even take him more than ten minutes before he was back home, a bag of ice cream tubs in hand.
He put some in the fridge and took one for you, strolling up to the bedroom with two spoons in hand.
There you were sound asleep on your side, mouth slightly agape as soft snores poured from your lips. Satoru couldn't help but smile softly to himself, walking over to his side and giving you a soft kiss on the forehead.
His head then trailed down to your big bump and he stared at it lovingly. "Whatcha doin to your momma huh?" He asked before chuckling to himself. As the mother of his child he could never ask for more than this. You were perfect, even when you have him running to the store to buy ice cream at three am.
"Damn this tastes good" he hummed, devouring the contents of the ice cream tub next to your sleeping figure.
Nanami
Even if you had wanted to sneak into the pantry, Nanamis death grip on you didn't give you the chance. Whenever you moved he furrowed his brows before snuggling his face where it had grown comfortable in the crook of your neck.
You couldn't help but crave your favorite flavor of ice cream, which had somehow ran out a week ago.
You wouldn't be able to go to the store and buy it because Kento would never let you lay a hand on store bought food. He makes everything from scratch, just for you with the freshest ingredients in the house. The store bought one didn't even come close to being as good as his, which takes a few hours to make. It would probably be bothersome to tell him you wanted some at this time of the hour.
You shifted uncomfortably, rubbing your husbands callused knuckles which pulled your chest close to his. This was painful, having to endure such a craving that only the sleeping man next to you could provide.
You sighed once more before shuffling in his arms, and finally you heard him shuffle in response.
"Hm?" He hummed "What's wrong love?"
His voice was raspy and you couldn't help but feel guilty at the fact that you had just some him from his peaceful slumber.
"Uh well" you paused, tapping on his hands nervously. "Nothing, it's not important"
His hands traveled down to your stomach and settled there comfortably "It's important if it has you unable to sleep at this hour"
"Are you and the baby alright?" He said sleepily into the crook of your neck.
"Yeah we're fine I just- well- randomly started craving ice cream?"
He let out a sigh of relieve, before reaching over to the nightstand on his side and flicking the lamp on.
You were confused right now, more so distraught that your personal heater had just decided to get up and stumble out of the door without a word.
In the distance you heard the fridge open and the clinking of cutlery before his footsteps returned. His hair was messy, and he was stumbling over his feet, cursing internally at the random objects on the ground.
Despite being so disorientated after waking up, he still got up with no questions, fully determined on getting you what you wanted.
You never thought you'd start tearing up at the sight of your adorable husband, shirtless with a tub of ice cream in his hand, helping you sit up by putting pillows beind your back.
"You're so sweet Ken" you cooed, opening the tub to gawk at its delicious contents "When did you even make this?"
"I made sure to stock up on all your favorite craving snacks, just in case"
He didn't want to fall asleep until you were satisfied with your fill, and when you were he gladly pulled you back into his arms
His hand was on your cheek and he wiped of any residue left of the ice cream, tilting your face to look at him in the process.
"Don't be so hesitant to ask me next time"
"Even if its 2am in the morning?"
"Whether it is am or pm does not concern me, I will wake up at any time if it means making the mother of my child happy ok?"
Toji
His legs were tangled with yours, his big strong hands wrapped around your body almost like a shield.
It would be quite impossible to get up without waking him up, which was the last thing you wanted. His instincts were on point, meaning he'd catch you instantly if you so much as inhaled too hard.
You sighed, and immediately regretted it when you felt him shift.
"Somethin wrong?" He rasped, the sound of his voice reverberating against your ear.
"I just need to get up" you groaned, trying to pry his arm off of you. It was no use being sneaky now that he was awake.
You could feel him look at you with a raised brow, not moving an inch from your prying hands. You thought he'd be annoyed with you till his chest shook with laughter. "Sit your pregnant ass down"
You deadpanned which only seemed to made him more amused. Swiftly he hooked his arms under you and carfied you princess style, giving you no time at all to retaliate.
You could already hear the cheekiness in his voice when he looked down at your cute form. "Where to?"
Of course he wasn't going to let you go there by yourself, not after the last time you tripped.
"The kitchen please"
He carried you with such ease even though you had another human being literally growing in your tummy. The ride wasn't bumpy at all, and you could barely feel a thing as he maneuvered you through the house. In the dark may you add.
You felt the coolness of the kitchen against your skin and shivered slightly.
"You can put me down now Toji" you mumbled into his chest. Hesitantly he put you on your feet and watched intently as you waddled over the the freezer and pulled out a tub of ice cream.
His heart warmed at the sight of you disheveled hair and growing belly. It was moments like these were he admired you the most, where you just happily lived your life next to him.
You were looking around for a spoon, but stopped when you saw two of them shining in your husbands hands.
He was looking at you with that face again, the one of admiration were he studied you closely. Shyly, you looked away from him and he laughed before switching the lights off and pulling you into his arms again.
Soon you were seated cross legged in front of him while he fed you ice cream. Occasionally he'd kiss the spots where the dessert would get smudged on your face. He was giving you the prinsess treatment you deserved and he could've never asked for anything more.
"You're so pretty y'know that?" he questioned genuinely, before eating a spoonful of ice cream "Carrying our kid n'all"
This time he was the one with a smidge of ice cream on the corner of his mouth. Mischievioudly you pulled his face close to yours and swiftly licked it off, leaving him shook in his place.
"It's all thank to you for taking such good care of me" you smiled.
"Nuh uh" he wagged his finger, "It's what I'm supposed to do- yer the one who's doing all the growing"
Your heart melted from his statement and you pulled his fave down to kiss the ice cream that was smudged onto his cheek.
"You're too sweet Toji" you said with a smile, and you swear you could see the slight pink tinge of his cheeks.
Choso
His insomniac ass was getting not a single wink of sleep, especially after his most recent mission.
You thought you had successfully snuck off to the pantry to get yourself some snacks. Until you heard crunching behind you nd you flinched.
"You scared me" you whispered, clutching your hand to your chest. His eyes stared at your figure which was trying to reach a box at the top of he shelf. You huffed in annoyance when your fingers touched the box, moving it further away from where you wanted it.
You were about to get a stepping stool before the warm figure of your husband clouded behind you. The smell of the sweets he was eating lingering from his face. He reached up with ease, and brought the box of snacks down for you.
You plopped down onto the couch before switching the tv. You opened your arms to offer your husband cuddles, considering he was following toy around like a lost puppy.
You laid on your back ond he lay on your stomach, occasionally giving your grown belly a kiss and rubs of affection. You stayed like this for a while, just letting the time pass with Choso in your arms, his head resting on your stomach.
He felt a kick and his eyes widened. "Looks like someones a bit feisty huh?"
He then stares up at your sleeping figure, mouth agape and packet of chips in hand as you snored away.
"Just like your mama"
Geto
"Sweetheart" he sighed next to you, rubbing your back as you stood in the pantry. Frustrated to find that the food you were craving was no here to be found.
Geto was kind enough to help you in your search. He didn't get mad when you just stood there with tears staining your eyes and his tshirt.
You huffed into his chest, melting into his strong arms wrapped around your trembling figure. They were warm and welcoming, on top of that he also smelled good and you couldn't help but feel safe listening to the thump of his heart.
"C'mon" he cooed, before pulling away to wipe the tears on your face. "I'll go get it for you yeah?"
"But it's three in the morning"
Nothing was cuter than your tear stained face, pouting at him right now. The urge to squish your cheeks took over and his fingers were on either side of your face. He brought your face closer to his and planted a nice plump kiss on your puckered lips.
"If you're hungry, then that doesn't matter" he smiled, his hand traveling down to your very noticable bump. "As long as you're happy then it's fine, plus the little one's doing quite the number on you anyway- so you need all the food you can get"
You pulled him into a sudden embrace and he chuckled. "Thanks Sugu"
"Anytime baby"
His plan was to quickly get in the car to get your food, then come back. Though that changed slightly when he heard your light footsteps follow him into the garage.
It was far too late for you to be up and about right now, but he didn't have the guts to tell you to , because that would only add to your sadness.
He opened the door for you, held your hand to help you in and even reached over to click your seatbelt into place.
He closed your door and hoped in on his side, connecting the aux cable to his phone to play music that usually calms you down.
He observed your cute figure as you softly let your hand caress your belly. Staring at your bump with nothing but adoration.
"The food I'm craving is bit far from here" you shuffled "Is that ok?"
He chuckled softly and put the car in gear "I'll take you wherever you wanna go"
----- • ° • .•°•. -----
End
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trippygalaxy · 9 months
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Mutuals Loving Hours
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Okay this might be a sappy so...beware as I gush about my mutuals!!
I have so many things I want to say to everyone, so much I would love to tell you face to face. So many reassurances and encouraging words that I would have to write a list just to remember everything I want-- what I need to tell you. I would give anything to be able to make you laugh and enjoy your smile, admiring the way you light up. I'd make an ass out of myself just to watch your smile widen. If I could, I would grab those weights from your shoulders and throw them into the great lakes, never to be seen again. I would stand by your side as we watch them drown from their own weight, never to get that satisfaction of dragging you down with them.
You're a damn good person, whether you believe it or not. Your creations, the things your pour your heart and soul into are some of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. I can feel the love and joy you used to intertwine those ideas together, I can see the excitement on your face as you share your creations.
You are one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. I don't care if I haven't seen your actual face, or if I don't even know your real name. You are stunning. Stunning like a star that threats to burn your eyes the longer you look at it. But I'd be okay with loosing my sight, as long as you're the last thing I see. I know I'm just a stranger to a lot of you, but I still care! I will always care and you will never be a burden. Sometimes I might not be able to help you like you need, but I'll be damned if I don't try.
I love you, you made my void a little less empty.
<3
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lightsoutletsgo · 1 month
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names the f1 drivers would call their partner ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
word count: 2k
warnings: cheesy cringy fluff I just thought this was a cute little idea so I decided to turn it into a whole post of it's own! I noticed that I've kind of started assigning names to specific drivers just because that's the vibe I get from them! as always this is entirely personal opinion. happy reading! mimi ₊˚❀.ೃ࿔*:・ it isn't all the drivers bc I don't write for the entire grid but if you wanted to see one driver in particular then pls send in a request and I'll see what I can do!
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cl.16 ❀⋆. ࿐࿔  Ma belle (my beautiful or my lovely) Simple and sounds divine when it rolls off the tongue with the French accent! Charles can't remember when he first called you the name because it's all he ever calls you! He adores the way you smile when you hear it and knowing you like it just as much as he does makes him say it again and again and again. 
"Ma belle" is the first thing you hear as your eyes slowly blink open in the morning light. You smile happily with a hum as Charles' lips press against your cheek slowly,  "Good morning ma belle, how did you sleep hmm?" With a giggle you roll over to look at him properly,  "You know I always sleep better when you're home, handsome." You poke his nose gently and it scrunches up before he's pulling you into his arms, hating that you're not as close as possible to him,  "Well then ma belle, let's sleep a little longer..."
cs.55 ❀⋆. ࿐࿔  Princesa (princess) It's classic and sweet without being too cringy!  Carlos originally started calling you princesa as a joke but found that he actually quite liked it. You're his princess and so giving you that title only made sense! Carlos swears his heart melts when you pout up at him and he realises all over again he's more than happy to keep calling you his princess.
"Carlooooos!" You whined, "My feet hurt..." You pouted as you squatted down on the pavement, unable to take another step.  "Princesa..." Carlos sighed, "I told you those shoes would hurt your feet." You stared up at him, bottom lip jutting out,  "I can't walk anymore..." Carlos chuckled and rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip gently,  "Here, princesa," He guided you up and over to a nearby bench before kneeling in front of you. You sighed as his warm hands eased your shoes off of your feet,  "Better?" You nodded, "I'm going to get the car, it's just around the corner okay?" You smiled at him,  "Thank you."  "Of course princesa... And when we get home I'll run you a bath and give you a foot rub, okay?"  
ln.4 ❀⋆. ࿐࿔  Sunshine  Cute and different. Lando has many names for you that all depend on both of your moods and the situation; jellybean, pretty girl, babe, mamas, peach, but sunshine is his favourite. He tells you it's because you're his little piece of Monaco sunshine when he's far away from home and missing you. He draws his inspiration from lazy mornings spent with you in the bed of your shared Monaco apartment, the sun dappling soft patterns on your skin as his lips chase the sunlight.
"Hi sunshine..." You giggle as Lando's scruff tickles your bare shoulder, relishing in the way his lips trace a line of soft kisses across your back as the sunlight pours in through the floaty net curtains. You roll over and loop your arms around his neck, "Good morning gorgeous..." You nuzzle your nose into his and he presses a kiss to your cheek, humming happily as the sun warms the room. "What are your plans for the day?" He asks, desperately hoping that they revolve around him, you contemplate for a moment before rolling over on top of him, "Nothing at all!" Lando finds himself breathless as he gazes at you, the morning light highlighting the colour of your eyes, the glow of your skin and making your lips look so damn kissable. He knows that when he's far away from home, this is what he'll remember. His own slice of heaven and his very own sunshine.
op.81 ❀⋆. ࿐࿔  Angel  sweet and gives you butterflies! Is very nice to hear in all sorts of settings and moods... The first time he saw you, Oscar thought you looked like an angel and though it took him a while to pluck up the courage to call you angel for the first time, it's now the name he always uses for you! Even when you're not around he still refers to you as his angel (much to Lando's annoyance because he thinks you two are icky sometimes).
"Hey angel!" You gave a watery smile at your boyfriend through the call, hating that he was so far away, "have you been crying?" You nodded slowly, knowing how guilty Oscar felt leaving you behind. "I'm sorry angel... Hey," he said lowly, "I left one of my hoodies in your wardrobe, why don't you go grab it?" Following his instructions you grabbed the hoodie and cuddled into bed, holding it up to your nose and desperately trying to imagine he was there with you, "You look so cute angel..." You giggled, "Even when I'm all teary and snotty and sad?" "Especially then!" He beamed back at you, "Who you talking to Oscah?" You heard his teammate's voice drift through the phone, "Just talking to my angel." Oscar cooed, earning a groan from Lando that had you and Oscar bursting into giggles, "You're not even here in the same room and you're still being mushy!"
ls.2 ❀⋆. ࿐࿔  Baby Simple and understated Logan likes to keep things simple but sweet and so baby is his go-to name for you. He's worked out that it suits a variety of situations and moods whether you're feeling happy, down, excited, angry or... needy. 'Baby' is usually followed up with a quick smooch to the cheek or forehead. 
"Babyyyy?" Logan dragged out the last syllable, sitting next to you on the couch, "Babe? You can't stay mad at me forever!" He whined, flopping down onto the pillows.  "My last brownie Logan. The last one." You hmmphed, crossing your arms for emphasis,  "Baby I'm sorry! I didn't realise it was the last one..." You looked at Logan who now sat up next to you looking very dejected. You sighed,  "It's okay,"  "Thank you so much baby," he kissed your cheek, "I will never eat your brownies again no matter how many are there." You giggled as he gave a mock salute,  "Now, go put your shoes on baby, we're going to go and get more brownies!"
gr.63 ❀⋆. ࿐࿔  My love  Classic and to the point! It’s sweet without feeling like too much. With or without the ‘my’ it still feels intimate.George knew not long after you’d started dating there would never be any other name for you. He loves saying it even when you’re out and around other people, it’s not too much that it’s cringy or awkward but it lets people know just how important you are to him. Sometimes he’ll drop the ‘my’ and just call you love, but even that is enough to have your cheeks heating up and to make you bite your bottom lip through a smile. 
“My love?” You heard George call out as the door to your shared apartment opened, “In the kitchen!” You called back, hurrying around to make sure everything was ready for dinner. “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” You whirled around to see George standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. You smiled fondly at him as he approached you, pulling you into his arms and settling his hands on your waist, “You look beautiful my love, is this the dress you bought with Lily the other day?” You nodded, looping your arms around his neck and leaning up to peck his lips, “It is, speaking of, is she here?” George nodded, “Yeah, they’re in the dining room.” You squealed with excitement and untangled yourself from George to run to Lily, after the squealing and hugging had died down, George poked his head out of the kitchen, “Do you want me to bring the plates in here love?” Alex laughed shaking is head at George, “You’re so whipped for her.” George nodded, not even phased at Alex’s teasing, “She’s my love, of course I am.”
lh.44 ❀⋆. ࿐࿔  Darling  Iconic and timeless, this name has stood the test of time. Darling sounds so good falling off of his lips. Whether it’s tinged with that slight American accent from time to time or sounds completely British, Lewis loves the way your hand always searches for his or your head drops to his shoulder once he’s said it. Lewis isn’t one for big PDA but he will always use this name, especially if he wants to check in with you mid-event or at a large gathering. Using this name is just one of the many ways he takes care of you. 
“Darling,” You stopped mid-conversation with Toto and Susie as Lewis suddenly appeared behind you, his hand sliding down your arm before linking his fingers with yours and subtly pulling you to stand a little closer to him “are you feeling okay?” He knew you hated these big events, especially when he couldn’t stay by your side the whole time. You turned to look at him a sweet smile breaking across your face as you squeezed his hand, “I’m okay, I promise” He pressed a gentle kiss to the side of your head before noticing your glass was empty, “I’ll be right back darling,” He plucked your glass out of your hand and made his way to the bar, you staring after him lovingly, “The two of you are so sweet.” Your head snapped back to Susie who stood there watching you with a fond expression, you giggled, “He takes good care of me,” “You’re good for him too.” Toto acknowledged with a nod, “Here you are darling,” A hand appeared in front of you with a fresh drink, followed by Lewis. Taking the glass from him you pecked his cheek and linked your hand with his, “Thank you love.” 
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riftanswhore · 28 days
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insatiable bunny hybrid! jake x ovulating reader
a/n: im sorry for being inactive for such long time and being stupidly incompetent so here i serve some disgusting thoughts i have about my man
cw: tongue fucking, jake has venom's tongue (iykyk)., bunny hybrid! jake, mentions of breeding, heavy cunnilingus, squirting, mentions of somnophilia
"you're ovulating." jake stated with a stoic face. "no im not." you replied feeling confused on how he picked it up. "yes you are, your little womb is screaming for me to fill it with my litter" his forward reply triggered humiliation in you that anger you. "no i am fucking not, if you're just looking reasons to fuck me then get fuck out of this kitchen and find some bunny girls out there, im sure they're are more than pleased to be dicked do- ahh!" in a very swift motion jake's hand were wrapped around your ponytail and your head was pulled back exposing your neck.
having an attractive male bunny hybrid that has very intense sex drive along with brutal heat cycles and keen sense of smell living in the same house with you was definitely a bad idea. but you couldnt help and picked him up from the pavement when he was malnourished and beaten to pulp by some alleyway gangsters.
"don't ever say that again, i don't give a single damn fuck about any bunny girls, i want you and nothing more. i want to fuck you, breed you full of my litter, make you a pretty little bunny mom, so you stay here in this house where i'll do every single fucking thing for you."
you felt his palm pressed again your lower back pushing your body forward until your front is flat on the cold marble counter. you are clad in a small chemise and booty shorts that do nothing to conceal the sweet honey smell pouring out of your pores and the strongest from cunny. "you don't know how perfect your scent is right now and im done holding myself back for 3 fucking days. you're going to stay there like my good little owner and let me take you how many times i want with my tongue until i see your pussy is nothing but a swollen wet gooey mess from your cum and my spit."
at this moment you just accepted your fate. you couldn't fight him. first because you actually wanted this too, you couldn't hold back anymore. you've always been attracted to him beyond sexual intentions. second because even though he's a prey hybrid, he's still stronger than you. you felt jake yanked down your shorts with your drenched panties. cold air hit your dewy slick folds due to your ovulation discharge and arousal. he went down on his to get a closer look. his twitchy bunny nose tingles cutely when he got a very strong whiff from your pussy.
he pushed your legs wider and spread your cute folds apart seeing a pearly string of your juice disconnected while a new glob of your wetness spills out when your little hole clenches. jake's mind is numb. he doesn't know what to do first. fuck you with his tongue so he could get the taste? push a finger in to feel around for your sweet spot? suck your jutting little clit into his mouth to ease his oral fixation? lick all over your labias and clean you up with his mouth a bit before he eats you until you're ready to take his litter? his greed and lust for you forces him to do all of that until you're nothing but a crying mess and pussy spilled everything and soiled the kitchen floor.
his warm mouth latches to your little slit and you felt his tongue slithered in making you roll eyes back from the pleasure. the warm firm muscle fills your needy hole perfectly. sweet tangy taste met his taste buds immediate emitting a throaty moan from him sending vibrations to your puffy clit. you pushed your hips back to fuck yourself on his non-human tongue. so long, slick and thicker than normal pressing directly against your sweet spot you definitely felt a phantom twinge in your pussy like you're about to pee.
his tongue's thrusts matches the rhythm of your hips fucking itself which made your pussy drips more than ever. it flowed down his chin dripping on the floor. you never thought getting eaten from the back could feel this good. it was so sloppy, messy and loud with wet squelching sounds. you felt his tongue pulled out a bit almost making you angry from the lost of warm bliss. "didn't know my owner have such sweet little pussy i should've eaten it the night you got me here, especially when you were asleep, so you wake up to me appreciating you for all your hard works."
"shut up! be a good bunny boy and fuck me with your tongue again." you pushed your hips to his face, pussy to his mouth. much to your surprise, his thick tongue plunged in and a portion of them grew new bumps and deliciously pressed against your gspot. now the earlier twinge came to life and getting more apparent. you wanted him to pull out before you squirted into his mouth. you reached back tried to push his face away. "jake pull out im gonna make a mess." he didn't listen and you felt his thumb and forefinger had your clit in a soft pinch, tweaking the little bud sneakily. the hood was pushed back, his rough fingerprints rubbed the swollen nub naughtily with your slick. your legs are shaking from the impending orgasm.
the first wave crashed and you screamed so loud as you spill into his mouth and his chest. jake closed his eyes while he swallowed your spraying fluid as much as he could, not wanting them to go to waste. "fuck fuck i told you to fucking pull out no fuck-". your screams stopped when the second wave crashed as he pushed his tongue to the hilt and had your clit pinched borderline to pain. but it made it all feel better. your walls sucked his tongue in and spasmed around it. he let your pussy stuffed full for few more seconds before pulling out just to see your little pussy gapes open and some cream spilled out.
of course he couldn't let them go to waste, his owner made all that for him, maybe next time he'll give his cream back for you.
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uncouth-the-fifth · 11 days
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good morning, charlie - Leon Kennedy/Reader
read it on Ao3.
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Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader Tags: domestic fluff with the tiniest dustings of background angst, married life, hugging, kissing, and snuggling. Words: 3k (yes, I'm capable of keeping something this short) Notes: read this in a WWE announcer voice: THAT'S RIGHT! UNCOUTH HAS COME CRASHING BACK INTO THE RING AFTER YET ANOTHER MONTHS-LONG HIATUS. i'm magical, truly. here is the first Leon fic I promised last month! There's so much I want to say about this little drabble, but I'll save that for my curious ppl on Ao3. this is going to be a big 180 from my spn content, and I sincerely hope that's okay with the public 😭 for my RE people: enjoy domestic Leon bullshit!
At two in the morning, Washington D.C. is pouring everything it has into crafting the coziest atmosphere of all time. A pleasant window-tapping storm had rolled in right around when you resolved to stay up working. Some late-night radio host is making soft, fizzing chatter in the next room, and coupled with a stellar view of the city from fancy floor-to-ceiling windows, you have a prime opportunity to pass the fuck out.
Unfortunately, you have made some spectacular life choices that don’t mix well with a full night’s rest. Nope, no sleep for you. Despite all of fate’s attempts to stop you from being a cop, (including throwing a city-wide outbreak at you on your first day), you are still here, gripping your job with both hands. At two in the damn morning.
Since scrubbing your eyes hadn’t woken you up the first five times you tried it, you give it another shot as you pace the length of your living room rug—from the coffee table you’ve stacked with files, then back to the whiteboard pasted top-to-bottom with pictures of missing young women. The whiteboard had been Leon’s idea. After the fourth time you’d transformed a flattened cardboard box into a morbid case-board for work, he’d cajoled you into letting him buy one for the apartment.
But I won’t be able to stab the tacks into it, you’d pouted.
Oh, the agony, your husband had drawled. He was a master of delivering a good, dry look.
You’d propped your fists on your hips and tried your best to look serious. The red yarn connecting everything isn’t just a detective-movie thing, y’know! It’s actually really useful. And I need my tacks to stick the yarn in—
Leon had cut cleanly through your building sass with another look, this time one glimmering with humor. Then I’ll get you magnetic ones, detective. Don’t you use whiteboards at the precinct anyway?
You’d grumbled. Because, yes, you did use whiteboards at the station, and they did have the little tacks with the magnets on the bottom. But you’d refused to deal with Leon being all smug (he was unbearable pretty when he was right), and had teased back instead, Whatever, nerd. Why don’t you and the other two angels go call Charlie already?
The reference had gone clean over Leon’s head. Of course, he hated being left out of a joke, so he’d roped you over by your wrist and pinched an explanation out of you until you were squealing with giggles.
Summarizing Charlie’s Angels to Leon had been a lot like offering a paper rocketship to an aerospace engineer. But, hey, picturing him running around in skimpy outfits and escaping action movie explosions on a motorcycle is a whole lot more fun than… than the real deal.
You don’t want to think about what his missions are really like. Not that you’re even allowed to know in the first place. Being Leon’s wife permits you a government-issued phone with his handler’s number, and on antsy days you can push Ingrid for details if you want. But after so long you’ve learned it only hurts both of you—for her, in the inability to answer, and for you, in the excruciating pain of being unable to know. Where is he? That’s classified.
She can’t always tell you when he’s coming home, either. So much of your life is hinged on her check-ins, and even more is forced to live off a simple, He’s okay.
For the seventh time, you scrub at your tired eyes and suck in a deep breath. You’d gotten that fabled text from Hunnigan—he’s okay—earlier today, and like always you crawled through the rest of your shift roiling with anticipation, waiting for Leon to materialize back into your life.
You force your gaze back to the whiteboard, littered with notes and pictures hung up with magnetic tacks. The faces of five missing women bore back. The ten-ton weight of your caseload slams down in full, and again, you scold yourself for floating back into comforting memories of your husband. These girls have lost all comfort in the world since they were taken. Your Captain gave you the responsibility of finding them, and after all you’ve been through, after all the other cases you’ve closed, there can’t be any room for failure. Think.
Your legs ache from being on your feet all day, chasing leads, but dropping into Leon’s armchair for even an instant will just have you nodding off again. More pacing it is, then. This is your pattern for the next half-hour: pace, re-read witness statements, turn, sip your coffee, pace, cross-reference alibis. He’s okay. Two of the girls were taken from Queen’s Chapel, two from Takoma, one from Woodridge. He’s fine. The last victim breaks the profile. What’s different about her? Why take her? Think think think— You know what Leon would do. He was the kind of person you could put in front of a problem, and no matter what he would find a way to shoulder his way through. With physical force, sure, but mental force too. He would sit and just look at the puzzle, and sheer willpower would lead him to some kind of answer. But you’d been pushing and pushing for days now, pursuing every lead, pressing every witness, yet nothing will give. The whole thing feels like a punching bag you’re beating at over and over again, knuckles raw and bloody—
Keys rattle just outside the front door.
First the big deadbolt scrapes open, unlatching with a heavy thud, and that sound alone is enough to shock you awake. More than any coffee could. Then comes the doorknob. Leon hasn’t even turned his key before you’ve twisted the lock open, yanked the door out of your way, and sent it whipping into the jamb with his keyring still swinging from its slot. You give him one full blink to register that it’s you before you’re throwing yourself on him without a single lick of shame, legs and all.
Of course, Leon bears your weight with grace. He grunts out an oof! when you come in for landing, and the living, breathing sound drains into one gruff laugh. You’re scooped up under the thighs and teddy bear squeezed against him. He reeks of cheap motel soap and something faintly coppery—then mint, a whole world of plush, wet spearmint when he nudges your face up with his nose and lays a hello kiss on you. The taste of his gum and the scratch of his stubble on your chin make your skin feel like it’s fizzing, inside-burning-out, every inch of you stood on end by his static charge. Jesus, this guy. He feels like fucking magic, and you’re confident that the laws of physics don’t quite apply around him. Everything in the room, in the too-big apartment that’s painfully empty without him in it, tilts toward Leon.
You shove your face nose-first into his neck and clutch the back of his jacket in both fists. Swallowing hard, you manage, “Hey, angel.”
“Good morning, Charlie,” Leon says.
If you had any resolve for today left in you at all, the wash of his sizzling butter voice would squash the last of it. You’d been trying to be sweet, but your husband has to be funny about fucking everything, of course. Even after weeks spent apart. You love him so fucking much.
“Don’t tell me you found time to watch that stupid movie.” Your voice is muffled by his coat, and you’re grateful for an excuse to hide.
You’re moving. Leon carries you inside, his wedding band pressing into your leg and his other big, warm hand spooned around your back. “Boring plane ride. I wanted to get your jokes.”
Your front door is toed shut, and with all the efficient maneuvering of a proper agent, Leon gets the place locked up behind you. Somewhere in all the commotion he’d dropped his go-bag by the welcome mat, and you hear the dramatic thunk, thunk, of his fancy work loafers being kicked off beside it. Only then does he slip you onto your own feet again.
Your hands slide down his arms as you make contact with the floor. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re aware that he’s damp from the rain, but that fact hangs in the little alternate universe he’s made in your front hall. Standing there and being able to look at him straight-on, Leon doesn’t feel real. It’s like your constant thoughts of him have manifested a ghost in his shape, mimicking the smiley rookie you remember.
He greets you with a quiet, beaten-down smile, and you understand immediately that the world has thrown its fair share of punches at him, too. You’ve both had a shit week. The Kennedy surname just brims with good luck, huh?
Your hands work on autopilot as you take him in, slipping under the fabric of his jacket and lingering over his thudding heart. His warm blue gaze swims over your face, and you can almost hear the clicking mechanisms in his head as he forces himself out of operative mode and into home mode by looking at you.
“It’s a really bad movie,” you say, choked up.
Leon’s jacket hits the floor with his shoes. There’s a swath of ugly, purpling bruises crawling up his bare arm, old enough to be greening at the edges, and your stomach churns when you see it.
He taps your chin up, pulling you away from the damage and back on him. His voice rolls over you like bourbon in a glass. “Absolutely. So-bad-it’s-good, even. We should watch it, make fun of it together. Like, why the hell does…”
Leon flawlessly falls into an analysis of the movie’s poorly-written espionage elements. The movie you made one offhand joke about several weeks ago, mind you. He’s pulling at straws, saying whatever the hell comes to mind to make you laugh, so exhausted he’s literally swaying on his feet. You can’t believe he’s trying to distract you with something so trivial, but this is your husband. One flash of that weary closed-mouth smile, one brush of those callused hands down your wrists, and your whole world resumes its orbit around him.
You laugh at the jokes he’s obviously crafted for your benefit, a weak chuckle your heart isn’t in. With his hands looped around your wrists, he guides your arms around his neck and welcomes you back into the toasty bubble of his touch. Leon’s even warmer from being tucked underneath his coat. Pure goodness and safety glows off him like a fucking nuclear reactor, and it dawns on you that you haven’t felt safe at all since he left. Anyone can be plucked off the streets here.
One more scratchy kiss and then he’s leading you deeper into your apartment. No one on Earth would believe that he’s a chatty guy, but he talks the whole way through. Too often he’s left to sit in his own mind on missions, and you’re treated to two week’s worth of his backlog in the next ten minutes. All the little things he wanted to say to you. The streams of smart-mouth commentary he was famous for at the academy are all inner monologue now, but you’re confident the Leon radio show still runs twenty four hours a day. He chatters so much in his head that it slips out of him like water sometimes—
“…that close to an explosion would disintegrate you, but fuck physics I guess—“ Leon interrupts his own flow of thought to squint at you. “Quit looking at me like that. It’s unfair how pretty you are when you’re tired. What was I—not like the laws of physics apply to that movie anyway, but…”
—and you’re stupidly charmed by it. He talks to comfort himself, and because the two of you are one unit, one person to him, he does the same for you.
With your hand tethered in his, he clicks off the radio in the kitchen. One of Leon’s side-stories replaces the random late-night station that’d been playing, floating over the din of the rain like bass over relaxing drums. He pours out the dregs of your coffee. He closes the files full of gruesome crime scene photos on your coffee table, and you watch, barely able to keep your head up, as he flips your whiteboard over to its blank side. You’ll get his second opinion on the case tomorrow.
Leon sweeps the place with you in tow, and once the security system’s armed and you’re almost sagging against him, the lights come off. Though you’ve had plenty of time to adjust to the Leon that returned home from training, you’ll never get used to the little alien ticks it’s given him. He navigates to your bedroom in complete blackness. He avoids the creaky floorboard just outside your door without seeing, deathly silent. The broad presence of him looms in the dark.
One wall of the bedroom is nothing but paneled glass, throwing a long square of dark blue moonlight over your rumpled comforter. While the view of the Potomac and Capital Hill is stellar from up here, you’ve always felt out of place among the things Leon’s generous salary has earned the two of you: a flat with a private elevator in the nice part of town, fresh-off-the-press sports cars, a getaway cabin up north. So much of it you end up enjoying by yourself. It only ever feels worth it when he’s here, smacking his elbow into the digital wall-panel that controls your A/C.
“—s’ supposed to be a touch screen,” he sidebars himself for the tenth time. Softer, Leon adds, “Brush your teeth. I’ll be right there.”
You rope your arms around his middle and press your face into the heart of his back, careful of the bruises he’s doing his best to hide. “Wanna wait for you.”
Leon doesn’t protest. There’s more little beeps as he screws with the temperature of your mattress or something, deciding, “We live in a damn spaceship. Are we too good for plain old-fashioned buttons now?”
Apparently you are, since old man Leon fails to figure out how to crank the heat up. You let him play with it for a little while longer (it’s not his fault he’s rarely home), and then intervene with a few quick taps when things get dire. The heater hums to life under the floor a beat later, and he turns in your grip to scoff, mystified by your vast and incredible knowledge.
“My smart girl,” he hums.
Just that is enough to chip off a piece of your strength. Had he said that to you over the phone, a million miles away in god-knows-where, your knees would buckle. He is the only one who talks to you like that—with so much simple, uncomplicated love. Too tired to put your thoughts into words, you flatten a hand over his heart and kiss the sun-freckled nape of his neck.
“Clingy,” Leon mutters. You’re pretty sure it’s supposed to sound dry and funny, another one of his jokes. But then he’s smoothing both of his palms down your arms in two long handsy swaths, and the gesture tells you everything about just how clingy he’s feeling, too.
His stories make getting ready for bed an even slower affair. You couldn’t mind if you wanted to. As you help him out of his starchy dress-shirt button by button, he surprises you with a rare explanation of where he’s been for the last weeks. The UK. Truly, your husband is the special secret agent to end all special secret agents: he talks around his job as if it was a bump he’d hit on the way home, entertaining you instead with his Leon-ified vision of London. Touristy as shit. Loud as shit. Smelled like shit.
“Just like DC,” he chuckles, and then a second time when your fluffy head pops through the collar of the sleep shirt he’s dressing you in.
It’s too much rough, cinnamon spice laughter for one woman to stand. You duck away to brush your teeth and groan into your palms like a schoolgirl over him, but sure enough, Leon trails you, fingers chasing the hem of your shirt (his shirt) in a sleepy daze. He always keeps you in view. Nervous, maybe, to have you out of his sight.
This tradition continues when the two of you crawl into bed. Your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and so has your body, able to sense him on the stupidly expensive mattress beside you. He thinks you can’t tell, but his gaze roves over you again and again—down your back when you flop face-first into the plush bedding, over the slope of your shoulder when you wiggle under the covers. Leon draws you into the glorious halo of his body heat with a gentle hand on your belly. If you could bottle this feeling, the whole world would be sick and stupid for him in hours. Minutes even.
You feel so safe that the word doesn’t even come to mind. Just vague, peaceful shapes of things you know, home, sleep, cologne, cozy. His work-rough palm with his body-warm wedding band slips under your tee to sweep over your ribs. Then comes Leon’s face, just on the right side of stubbly as he shoves it between your shoulder blades without a single lick of shame. The breath he takes of you is so heavy that his whole frame shudders with it, top to bottom.
You remember how you’d burrowed into his jacket the second he got home and think, You are me and I am you. We’re always on the same page.
With that, the stage is set. DC’s faraway glittering cityscape lights up all the raindrops on your window, and you watch them run as the two of you melt into one another. Leon’s warm breaths slow across your neck. Time for you to deliver your line.
You wet your lips and murmur into your pillow, “Do you want to talk about your mission?”
Legally, he can’t say yes. Government secrets, bureaucracy, yadda yadda. Leon isn’t always emotionally ready to crack open a coffin he’s just finished sealing, either, but while it is his job to close your case files for the night, you’re his wife. You’re the only person who can knock on that door. With how little choice he has left in his life, you try to give him options whenever you can. Regardless, you know the man you married—strong-willed on a mythical fucking level, and just as self-sacrificing. He’ll always try to spare you.
Sure enough, Leon says, “Tomorrow. Do you want to talk about your case?”
You shake your head at him, exhausted to the point of dizziness. “Tomorrow.”
A tender kiss is pressed to the nape of your neck, and the whole world goes silent for the perfect, husky whisper you’ve ached to hear. You feel his wry smile against your skin. “We’re always on the same page, baby.”
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senp1i · 2 months
Text
Bestfriends | Jang Wonyoung x M!R
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WC: 2496, anon requested from last year also I used Grammarly for the first, how'd u guys like it lmao, I'm not sure If ill use it again tho, it makes everything bland IMO but less work for my sickass so ++ sorry for the smut, i know the req said fluff but.. i got too excited lmao
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Wonyoung and Y/N had been close since they were little demons running wild in their neighborhood. They were damn near conjoined twins, always finding trouble to get into together. Whether it was sneaking out in the middle of the night or raiding the kitchen for midnight snacks, they did everything as a dynamic duo.
As they got older, that closeness only intensified. Y/N started noticing the little things about Wonyoung that made his heart go faster than a F1 car - the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed, or how her slight gum showed whenever she flashed that bright, smile. Not to mention Wonyoung was a total smokeshow inside and out, with a fun, chic personality to match her goddess looks.
Y/N had it bad, simping for his best friend in the most cliche way possible. But could you blame the dude? Wonyoung was straight-up perfect - smart as a nerd without the glasses, kind as a nun, with a decent enough sense of humor and just the most beautiful girl. She had a rocking body too, not too curvy but with an ass that just wouldn't quit. Y/N's testostrones start raging just thinking about her.
He knew he had to make a move before it was too late. Wonyoung was starting to get attention from the other dudes at school, and it was only a matter of time before some fuckboy tried to swoop in and steal her up. Y/N couldn't let that happen - Wonyoung was his, had been since day one, even if she didn't know it yet. The plan was simple: confess feelings, get the girl, and ride off into the sunset or whatever cliche, What could go wrong?
Famous last words.
Y/N had been preparing himself up all day to finally spit it out. He was gonna meet Wonyoung at their favorite hangout spot in the park after school and pour his heart out. Butterflies were going apeshit in his stomach as he approached the park bench, hands sweaty and shaky.
That's when he saw it - Wonyoung, sitting there looking as gorgeous as ever, with some random kid down on one knee in front of her. A fucking confession. Y/N's heart fell into his gut as the world seemed to stop.
"Oh fuck no..." he muttered under his breath.
The guy was a senior from what Y/N could tell, though he didn't recognize the bastard off the top of his head. He was decent-looking, Y/N supposed, but he was biased as hell. No one was good enough for HIS Wonyoung.
From a distance, Y/N watched in horror as the guy declared his feelings, pulling out a bouquet of roses from behind his back like a damn rom-com from the nineties. He felt like he was gonna launch at the fuckboy as Wonyoung accepted the flowers, a small smile playing on her lips. Wasn't she gonna shut this guy down?
Y/N wanted to turn away but found himself frozen, a bystander in his own nightmare. He watched as Wonyoung leaned in and...hugged the guy. What the actual fuck was going on?
His brain jumped to the worst possible conclusions - were Wonyoung and this random dude already a thing? Had Y/N been living in delusion this whole time, pining after someone who was already taken? Bile filled his mouth.
As the guy pulled away from the hug, still smiling at Wonyoung with tender affection in his eyes, Y/N felt like he was going to lose his shit for real. This was happening, right in front of his eyes. His moment, his chance at happiness, being ripped away.
Head spinning, Y/N turned and booked it before he could witness anything else. He ran blindly, fighting back the lump of emotion forming in his throat. He had been so ready to lay it all on the line, and now...now his heart was shattered into pieces.
Over the next few days, Y/N avoided Wonyoung like the plague, skipping all their usual hangouts and making excuses whenever she tried to reach out. He just couldn't stand to be around her, not after having his feelings so violently crushed. It was too damn painful.
Wonyoung wasn't having it though. She was too damn stubborn, too persistent to let this go on without getting to the bottom of it.
"Dude, what the fuck is up with you lately?" she cornered Y/N after somehow tracking him down in the school courtyard after school.
Y/N averted his eyes, clenching his jaw as he fought to keep his composure. "Nothing's up. I'm fine."
"Bullshit," Wonyoung scoffed, seeing right through the flimsy excuse. "You've been avoiding me for days, and I want to know why."
There was a tense pause as Y/N remained stubbornly silent, staring at a random spot on the ground. Wonyoung sighed in exasperation, planting her hands on her hips.
"Did I do something to piss you off? Because if I did, I wish you'd just tell me instead of giving me the cold shoulder, N/nie"
Y/N squeezed his eyes shut briefly, pained by how stupid Wonyoung was being and the fact that her nickname still made his stomach get fuzzy. Of course, she had no idea about his feelings, how crushed he felt watching her accept that other guy's flowers, even hugging him.
When he spoke again, Y/N's voice was barely above a whisper, trembling with barely suppressed emotion. "I saw you...with him...the other day in the park."
Wonyoung's brow furrowed in confusion for a moment before realization seemed to dawn on her. "Oh...you mean [whatever name] ? When he asked me out?"
Y/N flinched at how casually she referred to the guy's name as if i wasn't a big deal. As if their friendship, their closeness, didn't mean anything next to this new romantic prospect.
"I can't believe you'd even entertain that loser," Y/N bit out bitterly, venom in his tone. "He doesn't deserve you."
"Woah, harsh," Wonyoung laughed lightly, though her eyes had taken on a more serious glint. "For your information, I turned him down. Like, completely rejected his ass."
Y/N's head whipped up in surprise, eyes widening almost comically. "You...you did?", voice cracking mid way too. 
"Of course I did, dumbass," Wonyoung rolled her eyes, gentleness returning to her eyes as she closed the distance between them. "Did you think I'd go for some random guy over you?"
The words hung heavy in the air between them as Y/N struggled to process them. Over him? What did that mean exactly? Surely Wonyoung couldn't mean...
Clearing his throat, "W-What are you saying?" Y/N stammered out, heart beating fast in his chest.
Wonyoung reached up to cup his face lovingly, so close now that he could see the faint dusting of redness on her face, and could smell her sweet fruity perfume. She stared into his eyes with an intensity that made his knees go weak.
"I'm saying…- *sigh* I like you, dummy," she murmured, voice soft yet filled with sincerity. "I've had feelings for you for a long time, but I didn't know how to tell you. I was waiting for you to make a move."
Y/N felt like the wind was knocked out of him as Wonyoung's words slowly sank in. This whole time...Wonyoung had liked him back? He had been stressing out for nothing, making assumptions and jumping to conclusions without even giving her a chance to explain.
"You...you like me?" Y/N asked dumbly, hardly daring to believe it was real. "Like, like-like me?"
"Yeah, dumbass," Wonyoung chuckled fondly, rolling her eyes again. "I like-like you, a lot. So are you gonna kiss me already or what?"
She didn't have to ask twice as Y/N surged forward, capturing Wonyoung's plush lips in a sloppy, desperate kiss. It was clumsy and inexperienced, driven purely by pent-up feelings, but it was absolutely flabbergasting. Wonyoung made a soft *mmph* of surprise before melting into it, her arms winding around his neck.
They kissed again and again, getting lost in the sensation of finally having each other. Years of hidden crushing and repressed lust came pouring out in a strong wave. Y/N wanted to drown in Wonyoung forever, to burn up in her flames.
When they finally detached, panting and flushed, Y/N cupped Wonyoung's face gently. "I thought I lost you," he murmured, resting his forehead against hers.
Wonyoung let out a breathless laugh, eyes sparkling with a mixture of affection and glee. "You could never lose me, dummy. I'll always be yours, no matter what."
And as Y/N pulled her close for another kiss, the courtyard around them faded into the background until it was just Y/N and Wonyoung in their little bubble. Their lips moved together urgently, all teeth and tongues, everything started gushing out again,
Y/N knew in that moment, as Wonyoung whimpered softly into his mouth, that she was telling the goddamn truth. They'd been two peas in a pod since childhood, attached at the damn hip through thick and thin. But right now, with their bodies pressed together so personally, they became one - two puzzle pieces finally slotting together after years of being one halves.
And fuck, did it feel good to be home.
Wonyoung kissed back like she did everything else - with out-of-control passion and zero fucks given. She gave as good as she got, nibbling at Y/N's lower lip teasingly before licking it with her tongue. Her hands moved freely, bunching up the fabric of his shirt as she pressed even closer, determined to get rid of any remaining space between her and his bodies.
"Fuck, baby...wanted this for so long," Y/N muttered when they briefly pulled back for air, his voice low and filed with lust.
"Then take it," Wonyoung shot back breathlessly, her eyes dark and hooded as she pushed her hips against his, grinding on his erection. "I'm yours, remember?"
That was all the encouragement Y/N needed. Tangling one hand in her silky hair, he angled her head to the side and attacked her neck with sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. Wonyoung let out a needy little whine, arching into him desperately as he found her sensitive spots
"Y/N...shit, that feels so good," she moaned, nails scratching over his clothed back as he showered her pale skin with attention.
Hearing her say his name like that, all breathy and horny, just drove Y/N more. He wanted to mark her up, let the whole world know she was his and his alone. Wanted to make her come undone right there in the yard where anyone could see but of course, they had a reputation to keep as he hoisted Wonyoung up suddenly, grinning at her squeak. Her legs immediately wrapped around his waist as he rushed into the hallway and pinned her against one of the lockers, the metal clanging loudly. Not that either of them cared about being overheard at this point - they were too far gone.
"You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?" Y/N groaned out, rolling his hips, grounding against her clothed vagina teasingly so she could feel how hard he was already. "Been wanting this tight little body for years."
Wonyoung let out a shameless moan at his words, her pupils blown wide with horniness. "Then take it, what are you waiting for?" She ground down against the bulge in his jeans tauntingly. "I'm not gonna break."
It was all the invitation Y/N needed. Crashing their lips back together hornily, he reached down to hitch one of Wonyoung's legs higher on his waist, opening her up further. His other hand skimmed up her thigh, dipping underneath her skirt to tease at the lace waistband of her panties.
"Is this what you want, baby?" he asked against her lips, fingers creeping higher to brush over her damp slit through the skimpy fabric. "You're already so wet for me, wony"
Wonyoung's head lolled back against the lockers with a thud, her chest heaving. "Don't tease, asshole" she retorted shamelessly, squirming against his hand in search of more. "I need you inside me. Now."
Y/N felt his dick throb painfully at her words, at the way she begged for it despite her usual bossy, headstrong personality. Seeing Wonyoung like this, overwhelmed by need and desire for him, was making his brain short-circuit.
Kissing her deeply again, he slid his hand properly into her panties and finally, blissfully, pumped two fingers into her sloppy, wet pussy.. Wonyoung moaned sharply into his mouth, her inner walls fluttering wildly around the thick fingers as she took him into the final knuckle.
"Fuck...you feel so fucking good," Y/N groaned, slowly working his fingers in and out of her tight vagina. She felt like heaven, insanely hot and wet like she was made just for him.
"Harder," Wonyoung whimpered, already twitching pathetically on his hand, completely shamelessly in her pleasure. "I can take it, I wanna feel you tomorrow."
Y/N felt a fresh wave of precum ooze out at her husky demands. He always knew Wonyoung was a brat, but her complete lack of self-consciousness, and her willingness to take whatever he gave was driving him wild, especially in the empty school hallway.
Growling under his breath, Y/N picked up the pace of his pumping, curling his fingers with every pull. The smutty sounds of her slick cunt soon filled the hallway, echoing obscenely with Wonyoung's loud, horny moans.
"That's it, baby...gonna make you feel so good," Y/N murmured hotly against the sweaty side of her throat, biting down to leave a mark. "Want everyone to know who you belong to."
"Yours, 'm yours!" Wonyoung cried out, arching her back almost painfully as she blindly chased her orgasm. Her nails grounded and slid over his shoulders hard enough to sting. "Oh fuck, I'm...I'm gonna..."
Y/N could feel her growing impossibly tighter around his fingers, those velvet walls beginning to twitch wildly. With a groan, he slammed his palm firmly against her clit, sending Wonyoung catapulting over the edge into euphoria.
She came with a sobbing and whiney moan, her whole body tensing up as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Y/N swallowed the desperate sounds spilling from her lips, amazed by how gorgeous she looked in the high of her orgasm. He fingered her through it lovingly, dragging out every last tremble until Wonyoung’s limp and tired against him.
"Good girl, that's it," he murmured adoringly, pressing soft kisses to her sweaty hairline as she clung to him like a koala. "You did so good for me, baby."
Wonyoung merely made a weak, incoherent noise of hum, too orgasmed out to form proper words. She nuzzled against his neck happily, her jagged pants slowly evening out to deep, relaxed breaths.
"Mine," she finally mumbled once she'd got to her senses, voice raspy from all her moans. She punctuated her words with a clumsy nip to his neck, more like a mosquito bite than anything.
Y/N chuckled, squeezing her ass with the hand still under her skirt. "Always."
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confiscatedpeaches · 7 months
Text
William Afton Finds the Reader's Dirty Diary, and it's full of fantasies about him.
Minors DNI, Reader is assumed to be 18+. I tried to keep the reader gender neutral, but honestly I assumed them to be afab.
TW: Use of word "daddy" in a sexual context, breeding, smut, power imbalance, humiliation.
Life can be stressful sometimes. We all need some kind of escape, whether it be videogames, tv, or even knitting. Your escape just so happens to be a filthy little diary you keep in your bag at all times. And lately, that little guy has been full of dirty, nasty, no good fantasies about your latest crush (and boss) William Afton.
Honestly, you've always had a thing for older men. Once you stepped into his office for an interview you were hooked. You couldn't help but stare as his hands fiddled and played with his pens while he talked. You made a joke about the rainy weather you were having, and he actually laughed. God, what a laugh this man had. Infectious and giggly for someone his age. When he spoke you about melted on the spot. His accent wrapping itself around your name like a comfy sweater or delicate lingerie, taunting you with it's flourishes.
Poor thing, you were so nervous and flushed. You actually looked shocked when he offered you the job. Mouth hanging open (an invitation, really), eyes wide; you looked like a frightened little prey animal. A rabbit, even.
It started out small, just little urges and thoughts hastily written down. What it'd be like to kiss him, hold his hands, touch his hair, etc. Eventually these thoughts became much more... intimate.
--------
Monday: God, every time I step into his office for a chat I imagine him bending me over that desk of his and breeding me. I want to feel his cock balls deep inside of me. I want him to hold me down and break my back. Like, fuck me already Daddy please! Ugghhh! --------
Tuesday: Fuck, he's so hot. I heard him swear in frustration under his breath while fixing foxy. The thought of milking him dry with my tongue is intoxicating. I touched myself in the bathroom while thinking of him. Damn it, I'm so wet now. I want to swallow his cum so bad. He's so. fucking. hot. --------
Wednesday: Mr. Afton, if only you knew how bad I want you. Touching myself to you late at night, cumming while crying out your name. I want you to devour me. Let me be your little slut. I'd be so good for you Daddy if only you'd let me. Please like me back. I want him. I want him so bad.
--------
On and on, filling pages upon pages full of smut. Mentally letting him cuddle, kiss, fuck, and squeeze you endlessly. Of course, you knew he would never feel the same way about you. You were just a young little wage worker. You were nothing more than a typical employee. He was polite and kind to you, but never overly so. Sometimes it seemed like he was flirting, but honestly you chalked that up to you projecting your feelings onto him.
Earlier this morning for example, he called you into his office. He assured you that you weren't in any trouble, he just wanted to check up on you. You seemed a little of out it lately and he wanted to make sure you were okay. He even poured you a cup of coffee. He was such a nice older man, acting almost like a caring father figure. (So what, you have daddy issues, don't we all.) You wished he could be more than that, but you accepted this would have to do for now.
Before letting you return to work, he placed his hand on your shoulder and looked down into your eyes.
"I really like you, y/n. You're a good, loyal worker, and I deeply respect that."
You beamed up at him with a stupid smile on your face. Mr. Afton? Liking and respecting you? Dear god, you must have died and gone to heaven. The heat from his hand sunk down into your core. You imagined his fingers digging deep into your skin, holding you down. You imagined his tongue caressing your neck, lips sucking hungrily at your flesh, his chest pressed against you. Hot blood rushed to your cheeks engulfing your face. He hummed slightly at this before lifting his hand. The spot on your shoulder feeling empty and void at his absence.
"I should really be getting back to work." You stammer, before quickly grabbing your things and fleeing the suddenly humid and intimate office.
-----
About twenty minutes pass before you regain composure. The morning crowd passes by and things begin to slow into their regular routine. Still wet and horny from the crumb of attention he fed you, you rummaged through your bag for your diary, desperate to write down your latest fantasy. Strangely, it's not in it's usual pocket. It's not in the bigger pocket either. In fact, it doesn't appear to be in your bag at all.
No. No, no, no. There is no way you lost that diary. The filthy, disgusting, and embarrassing diary has managed to escape the confines of your bag and is now roaming about the pizzeria.
Panicked, you check the floor behind the counter. Nothing. You check the backrooms. Also, nothing. The kitchen: nothing. The bathrooms: nothing. After systematically checking every room in the entire god damn building you realize you left one room unchecked: Mr. Afton's office.
This cannot be happening.
Even if it is in his office, you made sure to put in bold letters "PROPERTY OF Y/N. PLEASE DO NOT READ" on the front. Everything is going to be okay, it's probably just sitting on his desk waiting for you to come looking for it.
With your heart in your throat, you knock on his office door.
"Who is it?" He asks from inside.
"Y/N." You respond.
"Oh, come in then."
Ah good, so he hasn't read it yet. You open the door.
Sitting with his feet up and crossed on his desk, with one hand rubbing at his croch, he sat. With his other hand, he held up your dirty little diary; holding it wide open. His face was obscured by the book, but he appeared to be deep into it's pages.
"Nice little diary you have here doll."
He tilts his head, revealing a wide and wicked grin.
"Aren't you curious about the real thing?"
You freeze. Unsure if you should respond, or run away and never come back. The room suddenly becomes hot and oppressive. Your chest tightens.
"Mr. Afton! It's not what you think! Please, give it back!"
He laughs.
"I think it is exactly what I think it is love. Got the hots for your boss, have you?"
"I... please... Please don't be angry."
"Oh I'm the opposite of angry love. Be a dear and shut the door behind you. We need to have a little 'chat'."
Swallowing hard, you click the door shut behind you. You find yourself alone with your boss and your filthy diary. He beckons you over. You obey without hesitation, mentally preparing yourself for the worst firing you'll ever experience. He pulls his legs from his desk before standing up from his chair. He completely towers over you. You realize you've never been this close to him before.
"Explain yourself. How exactly, is this not what I think it is?" He teases.
You look away, unable to meet his gaze. Looking down at the floor, you speak in a voice not much louder than a whisper.
"I... I... it's not... it's fiction... I didn't mean anything by it. I... don't mean what is written in there... it's not-"
"Well, it says here" He lifts up the journal and flips back a couple pages.
With absolute glee, he continues: "Ah yes, 'He is so attractive. Mr. Afton, please rail me and pound my tight little hole until I beg to cum. Fill me up and make me yours. Please Daddy, I need this. Let me be your little whore.'"
Shame fills your veins. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. He actually read it. Every thought, every fantasy you've ever had about him was written in that diary. Now he knew them all.
"...please... let me go..."
He leans in close, his hot breath and lips grazing against your ear.
"No, I think it's too late for that dear."
One of his hands trails up your side and around your waist. The other teases your collar and travels down to your stomach.
"You know... I would love to fulfil each and every one of those filthy little fantasies." He says as his hand tugs the button free from your jeans.
"You just have to let me... you will let me, won't you?"
He kisses at your neck.
"Yes... please.." You coo into his ear.
In a flash, he lifts you up and sets you on his desk. His hand guiding you to lay back on the dark oak wood. Papers, pens, and trinkets fall to the floor. You look up at him and watch as he strips off your bottoms. He carelessly tosses them aside, his hands returning to part your legs. He looks down at your wet sex and bites his bottom lip. His eyes are full of desire, he looks like a starving man who has just found his next meal. A meal that has been perfectly dressed and prepared for him and him alone.
He pulls down his pants to reveal his fully erect cock. The tip red and glistening with precum. His veiny hands wrap around his shaft. He teases your opening with his tip, before giving it a good few pumps.
"Already so wet for me, but not wet enough."
His masculine hand reaches down as he slides in a finger. Curling up inside of you, he begins pumping your sweet spot. You moan and writhe under him. Just when you though it couldn't get anymore intense, he slips in another finger. He greedily tugs and pulls inside of you. Realizing how loud you're becoming, you cover your mouth. His free hand pulls your arm away.
"No, no no bunny. Let me hear you. Say my name"
"Will.. William Afton.. mmmphhhh..."
"Good bunny. Keep crying for me, begging for me."
Your body begins to shake. Your moans becoming louder and harder to understand as a mounting pressure builds within you.
"Williammm... Aft..ahhh..."
Hot sticky fluids gush out of you, covering his hand and dripping down your thighs. His hand pulls away, only to be replaced by the head of his cock. Slowly, he pushes himself into you. A guttural sound escapes him. He fills you up all the way until you feel his sack pressing against your hips hard.
Rhythmically, he thrusts into you. Soon his office is full of the wet sound of him slapping against you. His hands grab and dig into the fleshy sides of your hips. Leaning over you, he finds an angle to reach even further inside. His lips find yours, tongue welcoming itself into your mouth.
He moves faster and faster, like an animal desperate to reproduce. Desperate to breed you. You gasp for air.
"Mmm... cum inside of me please.... Daddy... ah..." You beg.
"Mgh... oh... don't worry angel.. I will..."
Your insides twist and coil, becoming hotter and tighter with each thrust. You arch your back, cumming on his cock. Unable to contain himself any longer, he shoots thick ropes deep into your guts.
You both lay there, panting and exhausted. Wrapped up in each other's embrace.
"Bloody hell... if only you knew how long I wanted this... bet you're glad I found that journal eh?" He laughs.
This was so much better than those fantasies. Much better.
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thewulf · 5 months
Text
Adorably Clueless || Steve Harrington
Summary: Request - So everyone rags on Steve for being stupid right so here’s the idea the reader who is pretty smart acts clueless about a lot of things and asks Steve for help because they don’t like the way the others jokingly call him stupid all the time... Read Rest Here
A/N: We’re pretending Robin and Steve are friends their senior year of high school, everything is moved up a year. Dustin and co are in eighth grade and reader/Steve/Robin/Nancy are seniors. K thanks <3Thank you for the request @loving-and-dreaming
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Y/N
Word Count: 3.5k +
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“Can I have a ride to school?” Dustin asked as you slid into the seat next to him running a bit behind this morning. You’d taken a little extra time to make sure you looked a little bit nicer than normal. Steve was around. He was always around. And you’d be lying if you didn’t say you had a little crush on him. You and every girl in Hawkins that was.
You quirked your eyes up to him while pouring the remaining orange juice into your glass, “No Harrington this morning?” Asking inquisitively. Steve had been picking Dustin up early the last few days throwing you out of your normal rhythm with the middle schooler.
He shook his head quickly, “No, we finished that project.” He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Rolling your eyes, you put the bacon and eggs your mom had made up onto your plate in a hurry, “Yeah, sure. Not like I have to go anywhere else.” You snickered knowing Dustin had to walk down the hill to the middle school, you couldn’t be bothered to drop him off then park.
Your mom sighed gathering the attention of both you and your brother, “I’m glad you’re driving him again, Y/N.” She smiled at you giving your hand a pat.
You frowned almost immediately at that comment, “Why? Steve’s perfectly fine at driving him.”
She gave you a tight-lipped smile knowing how you were. You weren’t going to back down from a fight, you never did, “Well, you know what they say.” She chuckled looking at Dustin who simply gave her the same look of confusion.
Shaking your head quickly you deadpanned at her, “I actually don’t mom. Enlighten me, will you?” You snapped back feeling all the irritation bubbling to the surface. Of course, you knew what they said about Steve. He was dumb. He was irresponsible. He would never get out of Hawkins. Blah blah blah. You might’ve believed that in the past but no longer was that the case. After you saw how he treated your younger brother you saw him in an entirely new light. Steve was kind. Steve was sweet. Steve was beyond thoughtful. You were crushing hard on the boy. And you’d done a pretty damn good job at hiding it. Right up until now. You were definitely giving it away now. Dustin’s eyes burning into the side of your head told you so.
She gave another quick, nervous laugh before clearing Dustin’s plate, “He’s just trouble sweetheart.”
“Typical.” You grumbled feeling annoyed as hell by your mother’s dismissal of the sweet man you’d observed over the last few months.
Dustin looked over at you giving you a curious look. You were usually mouthy with your parents but never pushed it too far. This was pushing it beyond what he was used to. And for Steve? He thought that was odd. Especially for you. He’d learned almost everything from you. You were analytical. Smart. Only spoke up when you knew you were right. Why were you defending Steve Harrington so boldly?
“What’s that honey?” She asked turning back to the two of you.
“You of all people shouldn’t believe the gossip. Thought you told us not to judge a book by its cover mother?” Refusing to look at either of them you decided on staring at the plate in front of you.
Her nervous smile gave it all away, “Sure. Now, off you go. Don’t want to be late to school now do we kids?”
You frowned annoyed as hell by the utter dismissal of the conversation. Oh, so typical. Rolling your eyes, you stood not even attempting to clear your plate, “Come on Dusty. We’ve got some learning to do.” You didn’t wait before grabbing your backpack and keys and walking out the front door without so much as a goodbye. Dustin followed quickly yelling a goodbye leaving a very quiet house for a very mouthy woman to deal with.
When Dustin jumped into the passenger seat of your old sedan you looked over at him. He was giving you the weirdest look. Studying you, “What?” You asked deciding to do your seatbelt instead of looking at him. You couldn’t look at him. No, that’d actually give you away.
“What was that about?” He asked not deciding to hold it back.
“What was what about?” You played dumb. It was so much easier. So, so much easier than explaining a stupid little crush that’d go absolutely nowhere.
He shook his head leaning back into the seat, “Steve? You’ve never mentioned his name before. Now you’re yelling at mom over breakfast about him? Thanks for that by the way.” He smiled knowing you’d always have his back.
You shrugged while backing out of the driveway, “I don’t know… You like him. He fills a gap I can’t fill. So why shouldn’t I defend him?” Trying to play it off you were thankful you had a reason to keep your eyes forward and on the road.
He nodded his head not fully believing you as his eyes narrowed in on you, observing you, “Sure, Y/N. That’s all.”
You nod quickly not daring to look over at your overly observant brother. Weren’t boys supposed to be clueless? Why was every single one of them clueless except Dustin? Of course, your brother wasn’t defective like a majority of the male population, “Yup. That’s all Dustin.”
The rest of the ride was nearly silent as Dustin sat there staring at you. He wasn’t going to give it up and neither were you. So, silence it was. When you parked the car in the lot you turned to him, “Not a word is mentioned of this morning to him. Do you need a ride home?”
Dustin smirked. The little fucker smirked. He unbuckled his seat belt and gave you the biggest grin, “Can’t guarantee that and nope. Steve is driving me home. We’re doing some investigating after school.”
You shook your head, “For once. Keep your big mouth shut. What are you even investigating? It’s Hawkins.” Giving him a curious glance, you stepped out of the worn-down vehicle trying not to be too late to class.
He jumped out of the car mimicking your actions, “Again, can’t guarantee that dear sister. And exactly. It’s Hawkins, there’s lots to investigate.” He grabbed his backpack before turning off to head down towards the middle school, “I’ll be back late, let mom know.” He waved knowing it was best to not give you the last word. Whatever. You’d cover for him like you always did. Steve was good for him. Just like Mike, Lucas and Will. It was never lost on you how you were always a touch jealous of your younger brothers ability to make true friendships. You’d only had one true friend. Thankfully, she was in most of your classes. You’d have gone insane have to deal with this whole high school thing alone.
As Steve got to know Dustin more you got to know him a little better too. It got under your skin how everybody so casually called him dumb or stupid. He was neither. He just played a part. A part you were easily able to see behind. He was his true authentic self around your brother, at your house. You’d caught him talking nerdy with your brother and asking questions somebody dumb would never. Steve was a master at his craft. An illusionist who needed to be the center of attention. For the life of you, you couldn’t figure that part of him out. For that you’d have to have a real-life conversation. One you often shied away from. Little did you know Steve was determined to get that conversation out of you, Dustin’s far too shy older sister. The girl he’d been crushing on since his split with Nancy.
He knew he was a goner the first time he really saw the real you. You were arguing with your mom, something he’d learned was commonplace in your household. He was amazed by your ability to express your words. You so flawlessly got your point across in a way he’d never seen. You were in his classes, but he’d never really seen you before. You were beautiful. Especially once your younger brother talked you up without even realizing it. He’d started to fall for you without even having a proper conversation. He wasn’t going to give up though. He wasn’t planning on going to Dustin, but he was starting to run through all his options. Every time he tried to dive in a little bit deeper you gave him that deer in headlights look. A look of knowing he was pushing the boundaries a little too hard. He’d back off. But then he got absolutely nowhere with you. Until you started coming to him for little things. You’d ask him a math question, one you’d obviously know the answer too, but one you knew he knew the answer to as well. Something to boost his confidence. For even you knew he heard the snide remarks about his intelligence. He was human too.
In English you’d ask him a silly grammar rule. In Phys Ed you asked him how to correctly shoot the basketball even though you’d been taught a thousand times over by Dustin and his know-it-all friends. In Spanish you’d ask him a simple question, beaming with pride when he answered back correctly. Little by little you tried to help him in the smallest of ways.
He was doomed, doomed from your sweetness. You’d taken his heart without the simplest of clues to doing so. He was trying to give you all the signs, the signs that showed he was incredibly interested in everything you had to offer. But you were clueless. Absolutely clueless to it all. For as smart as you are you were oblivious to him right in front of you. If he couldn’t figure it out soon he’d have to go to Dustin to get to you. He’d gotten the sense that only Dustin could talk some reason into you.
You’d been a pro at avoiding Steve at school that day. He hadn’t a clue as to why you were being so elusive. You were far too aware of your feelings to even try and approach a semi-normal conversation with the man. Avoiding him was your best option.
“You’re acting weird Y/N.” Kelly, your best friend, said as she spotted your eyes darting the cafeteria at lunch, “Been acting weird all day.”
“No, I haven’t Kel.” Speaking back in an instant you turned your full attention back to her.
A smirk that was eerily similar to Dustin’s danced on her lips as she watched you. Everybody seemed keen on your actions today, “In fact, you’ve been acting a little off ever since a certain Harrington has become friends with your very own brother. Peculiar.”
You rolled your eyes rather dramatically at your friend, “Look at you, jumping to conclusions.”
“You’ve been avoiding him all day Y/N.” She said matter of factly.
Shaking your head, “No…”
“You literally made Mandy trade seats with you in Chemistry today. I don’t want to hear it.” She cut you off.
“You’re annoying.” You sighed.
“And you’re being avoidant. The usual hey?” She grinned knowing she had you there. This was totally your style.
“Whatever Kelly.” Looking away your eyes went wide seeing Steve and his very own best friend, Robin, walking your way, “Gotta go talk to Mrs. Pace about my grade. I’ll see you later?” You stood quickly and ran off before she could even reply. When you turned back you saw the three of them conversing, talking about who knows what. You. They were talking about you.
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When you heard the front door open and close you’d assumed Dustin was alone. Your parents were out for a dinner date with another couple they’d been friends for years with. Being miserably bored you were thrilled when you’d heard him come home. Having somebody to annoy made you far too giddy.
“There you are!” Yelling from the top of the stairs you skidded to a complete stop seeing not only your brother but his much taller and much more handsome friend standing in the kitchen with him.
All too pleased with himself he gave you a head nod, “Y/N. Steve’s going to stay for dinner.” He didn’t ask, he stated.
“Sure, I’ll just be up in my room…”
He cut you off grabbing at your arm, “No, I know you haven’t eaten. Sit.” He sounded weirdly like your father.
“I already…” You tried but again he cut you off.
“No, you haven’t. The plate is untouched. Your water is still at the table. Sit.” He pointed to your usual chair. He had you there. He was too damn observant. Only Dustin.
You glared at him but sat down next to Steve who looked all too happy to be sitting there with the two of you. Not even you could lie, he was damn adorable sitting there kicking his feet watching the two siblings bicker back and forth.
Dustin set down two plates in front of you and Steve, “I just remembered. I was supposed to call Mike at 7! We’re supposed to be doing Mr. Ryan’s homework.” He rambled before running off upstairs.
“Dustin?” You called feeling a growing irritation for your meddling younger brother. The little shit just left you to fend for yourself with Steve fucking Harrington? What the fuck?
“Kids a trip.” Steve smiled over at you hoping it’d calm your nerves a bit. He knew you were nervous for some reason. He was anything but intimidating, or so he thought.
Your face broke into a grin knowing his motives. He was a trip, that one was for sure, “You could say that again.” Defeated, you grabbed at your fork knowing you couldn’t really just leave him sitting in your kitchen. Dustin would quite literally kick your ass if you did that.
He nodded his head in agreement, “Your brother is pretty great too. Never thought I’d enjoy spending so much time with a literal kid.” He snickered knowing the optics of the situation were less than stellar.
Finally, you looked at him. And Jesus, was he stunning. It wasn’t fair. He was so damn attractive and then he was so damn kind? Dustin was setting you up, “He get it from somewhere.” You agreed with him while nodding your head.
Steve’s smile grew even wider as he let out a hearty laugh, “He told me you were funny.”
Eyebrows raised you replied, “He did?”
“Yup.” He scooted a tad closer to you. All too thrilled you were finally entertaining a conversation with him, “He says a lot of good things about you.”
Without even realizing it you bit your lip slightly. A little habit Steve had noticed in school as he watched you a bit closer this year. It happened when you were thinking. When your mind was reeling, “Dusty’s the sweetest younger brother. I’m lucky.”
“Well, he’s got a pretty great older sister he watches all the time.” Steve said so casually you weren’t positive if you were hearing
Your eyes snapped back over to his suddenly very aware of why you avoided these conversations. Your cheeks were absolutely ablaze feeling like you could cook an egg off your face it was so hot, “
He smirked, “What? No comeback? He says your infamous for those. And I’d tend to agree. You schooled Mr. Clark the other day.”
Biting back a smile you rolled your eyes, “Dustin has a lot of opinions about me, hmm?”
He leaned forward feeling brazen, “You’re right. Enough about him. More about you.” His chair scooted just a bit closer. He was bold, you gave him that.
“Me?” Your face had to be as red as a tomato now.
“You heard me.”
Trying to be just a bit brave you continued, “Well, what about me?”
His chair inched ever so much closer. Your heart was racing at an uncomfortable pace as he opened his mouth, “Tell me something about you sweetheart.”
Sweetheart? Sweetheart. Damn, that made your already racing heart explode, “What do you wanna know?” It was a whisper. God, you were pathetic. He made you pathetic. A pathetic bumbling mess, “I hate chicken nuggets. I think they’re disgusting.” You said the first thing that came to your thoughtless mind.
He didn’t give you any time to be embarrassed though. He let out a snort before full on laughing, “Chicken nuggets? Really?”
You nodded quickly defending yourself, “I just… I just don’t think chicken should come that way. Not natural.”
He snickered shaking his head but moving his chair even closer. He was almost on top of you now. Surly, he could hear your racing heart, “You’re a trip too, Henderson.”
“Hopefully you mean that in a good way.”
His smile should’ve given you the hint. But you were clueless. Absolutely clueless, “In the best way.”
The two of you were so into the moment you didn’t hear the younger version of you walk down the stairs. To be fair, it had been twenty minutes. He’d just been sitting in his room bored to death and couldn’t take it anymore. So, he walked down the steps. When he walked into the kitchen he’d expected to find the two of you bickering. Just like he and Steve did. But he found the opposite. The two of you… enamored with each other?
He couldn’t hide the small smile creeping up on his lips. He’d all but gotten a confession out of Steve that he liked you. And he wasn’t dumb, you liked him. So, this was meant to happen, right? Plus, if the two of you were together then Steve would be over all the time. A win, win.
But he was bored, your love could blossom another time, “What’d I miss?” He spoke up. You nearly jumped from your seat. Steve scooted away in a hurry.
“Dustin!” You whisper shouted, startled by his sudden presence.
“Son of a…” Steve muttered while glaring at the younger boy.
Dustin gave him a devious smirk, “What was that Steve?”
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“He likes you; you know.” Robin set her bag down next to yours on the ground. She plopped down in the seat next to you in the wide-open library.
You looked up from the homework you were working on, “Hmm?”
“Steve. He likes you. Hard.”
Shaking your head, you decided on giving her your full attention, “No, no he doesn’t. I think I’d notice if he liked me.”
She snorted lightly, “You’re adorable. Adorably clueless. He likes you Henderson.”
“Then he’ll tell me himself.” You said so assuredly you weren’t expecting her reply.
“You’re right. He will.” And before you could reply Robin was off as soon as she had sat down.
Before you could focus back on your homework and ignore the weird interaction with the girl you’d come to adore from afar somebody else was in the seat she had just occupied.
When you looked up and spotted him your weak little heart started racing once more, “Steve, what’re you doing here?”
“Here to tell you something.” He smiled leaning back in the chair.
Robin? Robin was written all over this. He couldn’t actually like you. It was more of a thing to say to get her to shut the hell up. But now… now Steve might actually admit something.
“What’s that?”
He kept quiet until you looked up at him. He smiled gently at you. Trying his darndest not to freak you out, “That I like you.”
“You like me?” You asked back so quickly he was sure you hadn’t really processed it.
“Yes,” He nodded quickly, “I like you. A lot.”
“Me?”
He grabbed at your hand, “You.”
“You’re sure?” You couldn’t believe him. No. Not until he confirmed it at least twenty times.
“Positive.” He gave your hand a squeeze trying his best to keep you grounded in reality. Not stuck in that pretty little head of yours.
“Oh.” You’d finally processed his words. He liked you. Damn, he liked you?
“Hopefully that’s a good, oh.” He mirrored your words from earlier on in the week.
A small smile came to your lips, “Yeah, it is… but…” You paused not sure how to ask the question that was itching at the back of your head.
“But?”
“But you’ve never seemed interested.”
He let out a quiet laugh, “Robin was right, you are adorably clueless.”
You gave him a fake pout, “Hey now.”
He shook his head, “I didn’t say it wasn’t cute. It’s adorable. You’re adorable sweetheart.” He grabbed at your other hand, holding both of your much smaller hands in his.
“Hey Steve?” You said after a moment of silence.
“Yeah?”
“I like you too. I like you a lot.” You bobbed your head up and down.
“Tell me then, what do you say? We’ve got a problem and I’ve got a solution. I’m taking you out Friday evening. On a proper date.” Steve proposed looking all too hopefully at you.
You grinned, “I think that sounds like a great plan.”
He let out a small sigh of relief, “Finally, it’s a date my dear.”
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stop-talking · 2 months
Text
You're his ex, but he's desperate for a babysitter. (pt. 4)
Mike Schmidt x fem reader
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2.4k words + 300 word epilogue
Tags: 18+, mike x fem reader, no use of y/n, exes, enemies to lovers, slowburn? sassy mike, sassy reader, pet names, banter, angst, fluff, comfort, happy ending.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
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Mike sits at his kitchen table, trying not to nod off into his cereal. Today is a quiet day. A lazy day. His one day off.
Except, not really. There's always work to be done. He just has to figure out what today's work would be. He's caught up on laundry and dishes, the house isn't too much of a mess... Hm. Maybe he should finally fix the dripping pipe in the bathroom. Or the living room window that's been stuck for years. Or one of the million other things wrong with his house.
He sighs and goes to take a bite of his cereal, only to realize he forgot the milk. Damn it. When he opens the fridge, he stands face to face with a little blue dolphin stuffed animal. Right... Abby's still testing him. He leaves it alone, she'll see it when she gets home from school and assume her "spell" still works. Pfft.
Mike nearly drops the milk mid-pour when he hears the phone ring.
*click.*
"Hello?" He mumbles groggily, a little annoyed to have his morning brooding interrupted.
"Hey, Mike? You free at all today?"
He immediately perks up at the sound of your voice. It's been two days since he last saw you, and he honestly wasn't sure if you'd ever speak to him again.
"Yeah, uh... It's my day off, actually."
"Good. I'm using that 2nd favor."
Mike's heart races. If this favor is going to be anything like the last one, he was definitely up for it.
"Oh? Missing me already, sweetheart?"
"As if. I need you to build me a shelf."
A shelf? Well, that was unexpected. Hm. Better than nothing.
"What, like build it from scratch? Are you expecting me to buy the boards, or-"
"No. I have all the pieces. It just needs to be assembled."
"You can't assemble a shelf?" Mike scoffs, but secretly he's pleased. Sounds like you just want an excuse to have him over.
"Mike. You know I'm no good with tools."
No, he didn't know that actually. Liar. You definitely just wanted to see him again. God, he felt giddy.
"Mhm. Sure."
"Just get your ass over here, Schmidt."
"Woah, what's with the attitude, Princess? I'm here to help." He can't help but let some smugness seep into his tone. Okay, more than some. He's a cocky bastard and he knows it.
"I've been working on the damn thing all morning. Almost three hours now. Not in the mood, jackass."
Shit. You sounded sincere. And really pissed off. Then again, what kind of a shelf took three hours to assemble? The fuck was it? A jigsaw puzzle?
"Alright, alright. I'll be over soon. See ya."
Mike slumps against the counter as you grumble something incoherent and slam the phone down. Damn, what is he getting himself into this time?
Only one way to find out.
・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・
When Mike finally arrives at your apartment half an hour later, he feels a bit silly. He put on a nice shirt and trousers to come see you, and here you are in sweats and a baggy t-shirt. Figures.
"Call for a handyman?" He greets you with a teasing smile, holding up his old rusted toolbox as he makes his way inside.
"Pfft. Someone's happy to see me."
Mike can't really say anything to that, so he doesn't try. He is happy to see you, even if you have attitude problems and dress like a bum.
"So, I bought the damn thing from a friend-of-a-friend, who got it at a garage sale. I swear, it has to be missing some parts or something, because-"
He nods as you rattle on and lead him to your bedroom, but he's only half-listening. He looks around your apartment, taking it all in. It's been at least six months since he last came over, probably longer. It doesn't look to have changed much. He likes your apartment. It's cozy.
"Anyways... can you fix it?"
Mike pauses in the doorway of your bedroom as you give him a sheepish smile and gesture to something in the corner.
Holy hell. Is that supposed to be a shelf? Mike can't help but think that the hideous agglomeration of boards and screws would only be good as a fire-starter. It looks more like a pile than a shelf.
"Uhh..." He bites his cheek, desperately trying not to burst into a fit of laughter. Maybe you really weren't lying about the whole "no good with tools" thing.
He finally loses it when you groan and flop down on the bed, hiding your face in a pillow.
"Ughh... Laugh at me, whatever. Just fix it."
"Jesus Christ. This has to be the sorriest excuse for a shelf I've ever seen. Sure you don't want me to haul it to the junkyard instead?" He snorts, sitting down on the edge of your bed and looking with disdain at the half-assedly assembled shelf.
Mike immediately shuts his mouth when you glare at him. Oops, right, you're in a bad mood.
"I mean, uh... you tried?" He laughs, shaking his head in amusement. He still can't believe you're actually this inept when it comes to assembly.
"Get to work, Schmidt."
Mike yelps as you kick him off the bed, but doesn't bother retaliating. He just grabs his toolbox and sits on the floor, examining the so-called "shelf".
"Well, the first step is going to be un-doing everything you did."
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You lie on your stomach in bed, chin propped up on your hands as you kick your feet in the air and ponder the sight before you. Mike's back is turned to you as he quietly works away taking apart the monstrosity you assembled.
"How long is this gonna take?"
"Well, If it wasn't so..." He trails off, glancing at you and choosing his words more carefully.
"...sturdy, it'd be a lot easier to take apart."
"Hm? What do you mean?"
He gives you an incredulous look and gestures to a series of nails in a corner where two boards meet. It does look pretty ridiculous, the sharp ends pointing out the other side. Not your best work.
"You put nails in it, sweetheart." He scoffs.
"How else was I supposed to keep it together?" You give him your best pout, and gloat internally when he has to turn away. He's absolutely infatuated with you. Even the back of his neck is pink.
"It comes with screws for a reason, ya know."
"There's a difference?"
He turns and gives you a flat look, and you laugh. Damn. You can play dumb with him, but maybe not that dumb. Noted.
Still, it's a little boring just laying there and watching him grumble and pull nails from wood. You can't really mess with him too much either, because you really do what him to fix the stupid shelf.
"You want something to drink?" You finally break the silence, under the guise of trying to be a good hostess.
"Pfft. Need some whiskey to deal with this bullshit." He snorts, pulling yet another nail free. He'd almost gotten one board off. One. This was gonna take a while.
"I was thinking more along the lines of soda or tea."
"Jack and Coke, then?"
"Mike. It's hardly past noon."
"So?" He scoffs. "For me, this is like... evening, or something. I dunno. Sleep schedule's fucked with this new job."
That answer makes you pause.
"What is it you do now, anyway?"
He groans, finally prying one of the boards free of the clusterfuck.
"Night guard. Told you already, remember?" He tries to shrug the question off, but you're nosy.
"Where?"
"Uhh... Freddy Fazbear's Pizza..."
"Speak up."
"Ugh. It's this stupid rundown hellhole pizzeria. Honestly dunno why anyone would wanna break in there anyways. It's a dump."
"What kind of a pizzeria needs a night guard? Or any guard?"
"The haunted kind."
You decide not to ask about that, simply shaking your head as you walk to the door. He's truly a loon. A loveable loon, unfortunately.
"Just tell me what you want to drink, Mikey, or I'm getting you water."
・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・
Mike sits on the floor of your bedroom sipping his glass of water and wondering how he got here. If you'd told him a week ago he'd be building his witch of an ex-girlfriend a shelf, he would've gagged. Now...? Well, he just wants to go join you on that bed.
"So are you really just gonna sit there and look pretty while I do all the work?"
"Aww, you think I'm pretty, Mikey? You smile, lying on the bed with your feet kicking in the air, giving him a look of pure adoration. It wasn't hard to do.
"Pretty annoying, yeah." He turns away with a scoff, returning to his work. If only he could get this stupid nail untangled from the other two... why would anyone use this many nails?
"You know, I think I liked you better gagged."
"Oh I know, sweetheart. I could see it in those evil eyes of yours." He can't help but smirk a bit at the comment, though. Sometimes he liked himself better gagged, too. He shakes the thought away and keeps working.
"Why can't you just get on hands and knees and beg me to take you back already?" You huff dramatically and roll over onto your back, letting your head fall over the edge of the bed. He looks silly from this angle. Upside-down.
That question nearly makes Mike drop his tools. Were you serious?
"Why? So you can laugh me off again?"
Ouch. It was true you'd turned him down the last time he'd tried it, but that was six months ago.
"Maybe if you used those big brown puppy eyes of yours on me."
That only earns you a grunt, so you verbally prod him again.
"Besides, why can't I do both? Laugh at you, then take you back? Sounds fun."
"Pfft. Fun? To toy with me? You'd probably break up with me all over again just for shits and giggles." He responds bitterly, still refusing to turn around.
"Mikey. Look at me." You roll back over onto your stomach and rest your chin in your hands as he slowly meets your gaze.
"I didn't break up with you just for shits and giggles. You know that. I'm not letting you sit there and wallow in self-pity."
Mike goes stiff from your words, but your tone is soft, and your eyes even softer. You're still giving him that adoring look. Damn it.
"Well maybe I'd rather wallow in self pity than admit you were right all along."
"You've had six months to wallow. Grow a pair and come kiss me."
He can't say no to that. Not when you look at him that way. He shuffles over, kneeling by the side of your bed. On his knees for you again, damnit.
You kiss him. It's different from the lustful, sloppy kiss you shared last time. This one makes you feel warm. You kiss him again. And again.
Mike really doesn't want this to end, but the knot in his stomach forces him to pull away. He has to ask.
"Why? Why are you doing this, I mean? Do you really want... to take me back?" He sputters, looking down at the floor.
"I'm not completely sure yet." You answer honestly, shifting and lying back on the bed.
Damn. That's not the answer he wanted to hear.
"Are you-"
"Come here."
When you pat the spot next to you in bed, Mike melts. He's a wreck right now, but still wants nothing more than to be with you, in every sense of the word. He silently complies.
"It's not about right and wrong, you know. As much as I love being told I'm right." You give him a soft smile, breaking the silence and placing your hand on top of his as you both lie on your sides.
Damn it. He'd done this with you before, this and so much more. Why was such a small touch turning him to goo?
"What isn't?"
"The breakup. It's about growing as a person. As people. Both of us." You lace your fingers with his, and can't help but laugh as his face reaches a level of pink you've never seen before.
"And what exactly am I supposed to be growing out of?"
"Pfft. I don't know, the emotional unavailability? The way you never made time for me? Constant irritability?" You start to dramatically list off his flaws, using your free hand to count on your fingers.
"Okay, okay. I get it." He huffs, and grabs your hand before you can make fun of him more. Instead, he guides it to his side, pulling you in a little closer.
"And you're miss perfect?"
"No. 'Course not. I have flaws too." You give him a sly smile, and start listing your own "faults".
"Too hot and sexy, too intelligent, too kind, amazing, sweet and caring..."
That's as far as you get before Mike scoots closer, burying his face in your neck and giving you a playful nip.
"Too arrogant." He adds with a laugh, wrapping his arm around you and letting himself melt further into you.
"My arrogance is one of my best qualities, thank you." You reply haughtily, sliding your hand up his back and into his hair.
Mike couldn't speak, even if he could somehow find the right words to say. Everything in this moment felt so right. His arm around you. Your fingers in his hair. He lets out a soft groan instead.
You aren't exactly eager to let go of this moment either, and just hold him for a few minutes. It feels nice to play with his soft brown curls.
"I'll do better. Please." He finally mumbles something to you, not bothering to move his face from where it's buried in the crook of your neck.
"Please what, Mikey?"
"Take me back."
He finally pulls back, just enough to give you a glimpse of those puppy eyes of his. Damn it. How could you even think of saying no?
"Yeah. Okay."
You both lean in for another round of soft passionate kisses, and Mike feels himself relax completely. His stomach unknots and his mind goes numb. For the first time in months, he feels completely safe.
・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・
"So does this mean you'll babysit for me again?"
"Go finish the shelf, Schmidt."
"Yes, Princess."
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♡ Epilogue ♡
Over the past few weeks, you and Mike had fallen into a sort of rhythm.
He never did end up finding a new babysitter, and besides, you're the only one who could ever get Abby to finish her dinner. You had to graduate her from daily witching lessons to weekly ones, though, convincing her she needed to study for the more advanced spells. Secretly, Mike was just losing track of which objects in his house were supposedly invisible. It was quite amusing to watch.
Mike's favorite part of the day was coming home to you already asleep in his bed, and waking you up with a kiss. He'd then either lie down in bed while you shower, or hop in there with you, depending on how you felt. Either way, he loved the view.
The conflicting schedules made things complicated, but you were able to work around it. Mike slept better with you holding him, and consequentially, was a lot more agreeable. He did his best to make more time for both you and Abby.
He even started to open up to you for once, letting you take on some of his burdens. This man sure had a lot of guilt. You were certain he hadn't yet told you everything, but he told you enough. At least you finally knew what the fucking NEBRASKA poster on the ceiling was for. Now you kind of felt bad for all the times you teased him about it the first time you dated.
As for the damn shelf... well, he finished it. It was still hideous, but it was functional. There were holes in it from the nails, and the wood had even started to splinter in a few spots. You couldn't bring yourself to get rid of it, though. Not after how much work you both put into it. Even if most of Mike's work revolved around un-doing yours.
It definitely wasn't a perfect relationship, not by far. But Mike never promised to be the perfect boyfriend. He just promised to be better.
And he was, bit by bit, every day. Better. ♡
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Author's note:
Thank you all for the love!! This was my first time writing a fanfic of any kind so I'm really happy so many of you enjoyed it. Feels good to bring the story to an end.
Feel free to send me a request, I'd love to write more fics about Mike. Or any other J-hutch character for that matter, Mikey is just my favorite <3
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cavity-exe · 6 months
Text
Kiss me Animal
This has been in my drafts way too long with me very slowly updating it. I haven't written in a long time and this is honestly super self indulgent. I just need more plus size readers with Brian in my life
Warnings- Reader is described to have tits and cunt and is called pretty girl. P in V, praise kink, Brian definitely being ooc and a simp for soft chubby girls, fight me. I think that's it, I tried to make it friendly for all the plus sized girlies to read so if I missed any warnings or unfriendlies just lemme know :3
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It'd been a long day
A really long fucking day, anything that could have went wrong absolutely did. Brian sighed as he kicked off his boots, the soles making a heavy thunk as they hit the wooden floor. He flopped back onto their old couch, arms resting on top of it as his head leaned back. A hand wiped down over his face as he let out a groan recalling all the events that had occurred today.
It was supposed to be a simple mission really, take out two people and wipe up any evidence the two had gathered. This sort of thing shouldn't have even required all three of them, and yet it was the messiest job they'd done in a long while. Tim triggered the back door alarm which could have worked in their favor if they had known where in the house the victims were, they didn't. A chair got taken to the back of Tim's head collectively knocking him out for a bit. Of all things Toby had to be threatened with was a blow torch, the fire of course freaking him out and causing him to stumble into Brian.
Another groan left the man as he shook his head, cringing at just how clumsy all three of them had been. Of course they did what needed to be done, but the drive back was tense as fuck with the other two being royally pissed off about how everything had gone down.
Brian was over the whole thing, wanting to just let it roll off his back and move on with his day. The blonde lazily sat up, throwing his hoodie off and onto a chair as he walked into the cabins little kitchenette. It was almost a surprise to see someone else there, forgetting for a quick moment that it wasn't just him and the other two men in the cabin anymore. He eyed you as you didn't seem to notice his presence, which wouldn't be the first time for Brian anyways. You'd been here for a few months, the operator unfortunately having taken a liking to you and directing you to their cabin of all areas.
Brian's eyes washed over your plump form, it looked like you had just rolled out of bed, hair unkempt and a loose t-shirt falling off your shoulder. His eyes went lower, a tight lil pair of black shorts were hugging your ass and chubby thighs. He hated those tiny little shorts, though you obviously seemed to love them since you wore them so God damn often. Maybe if you hadn't Brian would have talked to you more, no excuses for his mind or eyes to start wandering, though even he knew that was a lie. The man still couldn't hold conversation with you even when out doing work, and you wore cargo pants for fucks sake.
Brian looked off to the side, not wanting to be a creep as he cleared his throat to get your attention. It seemed like that was always his goal though, not wanting to appear as some sort of creep to you. It annoyed him to no end, he was the smooth talker out of their group, if they had to talk to a victim he was the first to go without a problem.
"Hey, how'd it go?". You didn't turn to face him as he walked up to the counter, pouring himself a mug of coffee. Glancing at your face, you almost looked annoyed with the slight pout and furrowed eyebrows.
"It uh, definitely could've gone better, the other two went out to go cool off from it actually". You looked over to him amused, sipping at your own mug with a nod, eyes slipping down him for a brief second before quickly looking away.
"You alright? Look like you been sleeping all day, and doesn't look like it was a good sleep". He let out a soft chuckle, at the grimace that came over your face with a shake of your head.
"Yeah I'm alright, though sleeping would've been much more accomplishing honestly". You sighed out while setting your mug in the sink. Brian raised an eyebrow at that, more accomplishing?
Watching you walk out of the kitchen, his eyes trailed down once again, before letting out a cough to himself and looking away.
This was usually how it went since you started staying with the three of them. Sure the two of you had held a few conversations late at night on the couch, but you just seemed to hold much longer talks with Tim and Toby, Tim of all people? Brian felt like he was honestly losing his touch. With a sigh he rolled onto his back, thick comforter shifting underneath him as he stared at the ceiling. His body shifted as his mind easily wandered to past images of your body, his hand going over his face at how easily worked up he seemed to be lately. Maybe he just needed a good fuck?
Though, when even was the last time he got laid? Too long apparantly as he groaned trying to remember before slipping a hand down his sweats. He let out a huff as he wrapped a fist around his half hard cock, immediately an image of those tiny black shorts coming to mind.
He swallowed thickly as he slowly pumped up and down, wetting his bottom lip as he imagined your soft thighs spilling out of fabric. How they dug into your flesh when you sat on the couch across from him. He loved how when you sat down the soft skin of your tummy bunched up over your hip and spilled out of whatever bottoms you had on. He let out a low groan, imagining how soft you'd feel against him, thumb running over the head of his cock, smearing the drip of precum over his member.
His head tilts back against the pillow, a soft wet slap being heard around the room. He let's out a grunt, imagining the jiggle of your ass as you ran in front of him, fuck if only co-
Knock, knock knock
Eyes snapped open at the light rap on his door, an annoyed low grunt leaving him as he tucked himself back into his sweats. Trudging to the door and opening it, about to give whoever it was a fuck off.
"H-hey, um sorry I know it's late."
The annoyed look on Brian's face quickly fell, suddenly aware of how his sweats hugged around his crotch he leaned himself away from the door frame as best as he could.
"Oh no don't worry about it, I wasn't asleep anyways. Did you need something?" He smiled down at you as calmly as he could trying to appear as relaxed as he could. He scanned your body as quickly as he could, fuck you had another pair of those damn shorts? Another color but it didn't matter, you were at his door in those tight lil things with a snug tank top on. He gulped slightly as he watched your chest rise and fall, watching how your flesh threatened to spill out over the fabric. How it hugged your soft sides and hips and waist and holy fuck he could see your hard nipples clearly through it.
"You have a bad staring problem, yknow that Brian?."
Hazel eyes snapped back up to your face that held a small smile. Brian felt his face heat up as he coughed into his fist.
"Fuck sorry, could you repeat yourself? Maybe I'm more tired than I thought". Playing it off with a chuckle as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.
You looked up at him with an eyebrow raised, stepping closer to him and into the door frame.
"I'm not that oblivious, you know that right?" Your hand came up to rest on his chest with a playful smile. Brian had to stare at you for a few seconds, feeling the warmth of your hand on his bare skin had his head reeling.
The next few moments were a blur of you getting tugged into the bedroom, big hands gripping at the soft flesh on your hips. Your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him into a kiss had Brian almost melting, pushing you against his door as he felt you up. Surprised as soft lips moved against his own excitedly.
It felt like Brian couldn't touch enough of you, wanting more of your soft flesh to squish between his fingers. A low groan left him as you tugged at his bottom lip, his hand pulling your thigh up to wrap around his hips. A shudder went through him as you ground yourself against his lap.
Lips trailed down your soft jaw and neck, his hands going lower to squeeze at your ass while he sucked just above your collar. The soft whimpers leaving your parted lips every time he sucked on your skin had him grinding himself back against you.
"Fuck pretty girl, don't know how long I've wanted to feel you like this." He pulled away from your marked neck. A hand was brought up to your face and he let out an amused hum at the warmth coming from your cheeks. You let out a little pant before smiling at him.
"I should've shown up at your door late at night a lot sooner then huh? I guess I just didn't ever wanna interrupt your lil one on one times with yourself." You had a sly smile as you scrunched your nose up at him. Brian dropped his head with a slight chuckle, quickly gripping your other thigh and hoisting you up. He let out a laugh at the the yelp that came out of you.
"What a fucking tease, you knew all this time and didn't even wanna help a guy out? Maybe I should just leave you high and dry tonight then." He gave you a serious stare but it was a fucking lie. There was no way Brian was gonna choose not to sink into your soft form and watch you come undone. Annoyingly you seemed to already know that as you smiled at him.
"Just take me to the bed already, we both know thats not happening".
Brian could have said something sarcastic but did as told anyway, sitting on the edge of the bed so you were perched on his lap all pretty. His hands couldn't help but find place on your soft hips, thick fingers sinking into the doughy skin. His fingers found the fabric of your shorts, tugging them down and off of you, a small smirk forming on his lips at the sight of the pretty little thong you had on underneath.
You rested your hands on his chest, gliding them up and down the bare skin before dragging down to the top of his sweatpants.
Brian had to hold back a groan as you shifted against him. A sigh leaving him as you held onto his shoulders, his own hands tugging you closer as you ground into him. Half lidded eyes glanced up to your face, lips parted and your eyes downcast as you watched yourself move against him.
He felt like he was a in a haze as he watched you, hands gripping onto you like they never wanted to let go. He brought a hand up to your jaw, tilting your head so he could kiss your lips. Brian guided your hand back to his sweats, letting you tug them down to let his cock out. A sigh left him through his nose as you got right back to grinding against him, his cock catching on your damp panties every so often. A low chuckle goes through his chest at the sound of your whines, reaching a finger down to tug your panties aside. Rough hands gripped tightly onto your hips, beginning to guide your movements as his cock slid back and forth between your wet folds, the tip of his cock bumping against your clit every so often.
You found yourself on your back suddenly, head sinking down into a pillow as you blinked up at the blonde. It almost seemed predatory how he hovered over you, flushed lips panting as his eyes raked over your form. His hand almost smacks down onto your thigh with how rough he grips it, watching the fat squeeze through his fingers before moving your thighs apart and moving himself inbetween them.
Brian gulped as he watched your chest rise and fall underneath him, the way you looked laying there had his head racing with too many scenarios of everything he wanted to do to you.
"Please?". Just one word had him almost losing it, he'd imagined himself teasing you until you couldn't take it anymore countless times, but right now he couldn't seem to find the patience. Brian has to almost hold back a groan as he grips his cock, pushing it against your wet hole a few times before finally sinking in. The whine that leaves you has him huffing out a laugh as he catches his breath, grip tight on your hips as he lets you adjust.
It's truly a sight to see for Brian, thighs spread open around him, tank top bunched up on top of your soft tummy, the fabric stretched to the side and letting your tits almost spill out. He watched as your hands came up to paw at his chest, a lopsided grin forming on his lips as you mouthed his name. He didn't need anymore than that to start quickly putting into you, a grunt and a pant leaving him every few thrusts.
"Feel so soft under me pretty girl, fuck, just like I imagined." Rough hands squeezed at your thighs and hips, trailing up to your tummy despite the whines leaving you.
"Really don't understand how many times I've thought about fucking this soft cunt, so fuckin warm and tight and so god damn wet. Do you hear the filthy sounds your little cunt is making for me?." One of his hands left your thighs, coming up to grip your jaw in his hand so you could look up at him, smiling down at you like the cocky fuck he is. It felt like words were stuck in the back of your throat as he fucked you, your mouth opening a few times but no more than a moan leaving you. He grins with a harsh pant, hand leaving your jaw as it reaches down to suddenly tug at your nipple, a yelp leaving you.
"Oh I knew you could still talk, come on pumpkin, wanna hear you. Gotta use your big girl words for me."
The way he was talking to you was certainly doing something to you, talking in that sweet loving tone, his words drawn out, and yet it felt like he was mocking you. A louder moan leaves you as he moves to grip one of your thighs, holding it up against his hip so he can fuck into you deeper.
"Come on, tell me how it feels won't you baby?."
Fast pants and whimpers are leaving you before you can finally get your words to work. "S'feels good! Feels good Brian!."
He can't help but almost laugh at how whiny it comes out, rutting into you faster as he leans down against you.
"Aw atta girl, I knew you could do it pumpkin." The whine that leaves you before hiding your face into his shoulder is enough to make him finally laugh. Still gripping onto your thigh he slows down his pace, feeling himself getting worked up just a little too fast. He leans down just a bit more next to your ear, breathy voice the only other thing you can focus on other than his cock.
"You like when I call you sweet lil names huh sweetheart? Can't hide it with the cute sounds you make everytime I call you something. Is that all I need to do to get you to listen and talk to me hm? Call you baby, pumpkin or tell you just how good you are for me?."
Brian was really just rambling at this point, the slow drag of his cock slipping in and out of your warm cunt had his head feeling hazy. He was barely registering the way your nails slowly dug into his shoulders the more he talked.
"Don't worry baby, you can be my good girl every night." Finally leaning back up, he holds your cheek in his hand, taking a deep breath as he picks his pace back up again. He watches tears well up in your eyes, how warm your cheek is against his hand from embarrassment was going straight to his cock. His lips were on yours suddenly, the kiss messy and wet with drool seeping down your lips. Eyes were half lidded, watching the other before Brian pulled away, thumb coming up to swipe the drool back into your mouth. A heavy pant left him as he sunk his thumb into your mouth, resting it on your tongue as he groaned. He kept it there as his thrusts became short and quick.
"Need to feel you cum around me pretty girl, wanna watch you make a complete mess of yourself." Fingers slipped down in-between the both of you, two fingers coming down to your clit and rubbing in slow small circles. The arch in your back had him speeding up his fingers, grin never leaving his face as he watched your eyes screw shut.
"Fu-fuck, I-."
"Go ahead sweetheart, lemme feel you." Just one more sweet little name was all you needed apparently as you let out a whiny moan, thighs shuddering in his grasp. Both hands came to grip your waist as he grunted, quick curses leaving him before he was spilling into you.
Your hand ran over your forehead and layed above you as you panted, staring up at the ceiling as you listened to the blonde pant beside you. You glanced over at him, arm laying over his chest as he seemed to also be in a daze. Watching his Adams apple bob as he swallowed before glancing over at you too. The boyish smile that formed on his lips was enough for you as you smiled back.
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Comments super appreciated cause I really wanna get back into writing, especially for marble hornets. Also yes this is set in an AU where they work for the operator, I'm sorry but it's easy and I'm dumb for them
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zombholic · 7 months
Text
| 𝐃𝐑. 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 |
𝗺𝗼𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗻 𝗮𝘂, 𝗼𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗼𝗰𝘁𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗯𝗯𝘆, 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗴 𝗱𝗶𝘁𝘇𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿, 𝘀𝗳𝘄
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“when i kill myself imma make sure to add this job to my suicide note” you rolled your eyes as you and your co-worker cleaned the spilled caramel frappuccino off the table and floor.
“we don’t get paid enough for this shit honestly” your co-worker, jesse, exhaled from his nose in annoyance throwing the rag in the sink. hearing the bell jingle indicating a customer just walked in to order the most outrageous drink known to man.
“im going on my fifteen, don’t call for me” jesse took his apron off, walking onto the back. turning to the register you looked at the customer only to be greeted with the most gorgeous woman you have ever laid your dull eyes on.
“hi, what can i get you started on?” ripping your gawking eyes off the tall woman to look at the register. “just a large black coffee please” she smiled taking out her wallet “guessing that’s going to be hard to take off the floor” she chuckled referring to the spilled frappuccino.
“oh my god i know! i don’t get paid enough for this” you put in her order “you probably get paid so damn good” you clicked your tongue looking at the scrubs and white coat she was wearing. getting a laugh out of her she nodded “yeah, well i am a doctor.” “well doctor can i get your name for your, don’t take offense nasty coffee decision.”
“abby, and none taken it’s the only thing that keeps me awake for twenty-four hours” she pays for her drinking before going to sit down to wait for her order. jesse arrives back with the most irritated expression plastered across his face, you start brewing hot coffee as you looked around making sure no one would hear what you were going to say to him.
“that lady over there” you nudged his arm while pouring the coffee in a plastic cup “i already planned our wedding and how many kids we’ll have” he scoffed, shaking his head, grabbing a mop to clean off the coffee on the floor “why do you always have a thing for the milfs” giving him a menacing smile as you called her name for her to get her coffee.
“have a great shift doctor abby” you handed the coffee over, feeling your face get hot just by looking at the goddess “you too sweetheart” she shot you a wink before walking out the door.
groaning loudly as you threw ur head onto jesse’s arm “if i don’t see her again i will actually throw myself off a bridge” he pushed the mop handle into your hands “im going to send you to a mental facility y/n” he laughed watching how you were so mesmerized by someone who is possibly straight and married with three kids.
you had the opening shift today so it was just you all by yourself, you contemplated throwing yourself out your moving car but decided not to. opening the glass door you had at least an hour before the cafe was open, going on with your usual opening routine you went by the door to flip the close sign to open.
leaning over the counter scrolling on your phone since it was a small coffee shop and not many people come in at 7am on a sunday. hearing that god annoying bell ring you put your phone away only to see the love of your life walk in. “doctor abby, i remember you” you gave her a giggly smile.
“i remember you too ms…“ she squinted at your name tag “ms. y/n, i’ll just get a-“ “black coffee?” you finished her sentence “great memory” she let out a soft laugh “not really, i have the worst memory known to man actually, it’s just no one really orders black coffee” you started brewing up her a new batch.
“so doctor, can i ask how old you are?” you wanted to make conversation with her, “i’m thirty-two actually, what about you?” “twenty-one” yes you had a thing for older women but who wouldn’t? “how long does it take to like become a doctor? also what kinda doctor are you?” you handed her the coffee leaning over the counter, your hands holding up your head.
“i wish my interns asked as many questions as you do” she copied your leaning on the counter but on her side “i’m a cardiologist and almost 14 years, i had to graduate high school early” she took a sip of her coffee before looking at her watch wrapped around her wrist.
“oh a heart doctor, you must be so damn smart, must be nice” you both laughed “have you ever done a heart transplant?” you had a lot of questions for her, not like you weren’t interested, you just think asking questions is flirting.
“yes, i’ve done a lot of heart transplants. i’m gonna be late for work but i’ll talk to you next time sweetheart” she waved you a goodbye before leaving out the door again.
should i ask for her number next time?
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AUTHORS NOTE: hey :) im back, dont worry, im already making a part 2, my first series ever!! also my inspo goes to @eightstarr i love their doctor!abby txts!!
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wolfiesmoon · 1 month
Note
I NEED MORE CONTENT WITH PRANKSTER YUU AND VIL😍
reader is gender neutral and is a silly prankster
ofc anything for my slavic friendo 🤭 yall get special treatment fr
i am still genuinely blown away by how well recieved that body swap fic of mine was, i've never gotten that many comments on a fic of mine before
(and how well recieved i was into the twst fandom in general, srsly guys thanks for the support💕)
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You are in a silly mood today. But then again, when are you not?
You feel like causing a bit of trouble to someone, but all the fun options have already been exhausted and you doubt they'd fall for your tricks twice in a row.
However, you still do have one person you can pull a prank on, and that's Vil Schoenheit. Normally, you'd give him a special pass which lets him bypass your pranks because he's extra special to you.
But what's the fun in that? Sometimes even he deserves to be messed with a little. Also, wouldn't it be kind of unfair if Vil was the only one spared from your little tricks?
That settles it, you're sneaking into Pomefiore tonight.
You knew Vil would be out at about 7 pm, busy with a photoshoot. He told you himself. Beginner mistake.
You're already cooking up a funny prank to pull. It's an expensive one, but his reaction will be worth the empty wallet. You can always work a few shifts at the Mostro lounge to make the money back.
Once 7 pm hit, you quietly snuck into Pomefiore, trying your damn hardest to sneak into Vil's room without getting caught.
"What are you doing here?" A very familiar voice stopped you in your tracks just as you were about to reach the door to Vil's room. And you were so close, too.
"Good evening to you too, Epel." You greeted him, slightly irked by the instant interrogation. He quickly corrected himself, greeting you back with a slight stutter.
"I just realised I forgot something in Vil's room." This actually wasn't a bad excuse at all since you often visit Vil and Epel knows that. You mostly just let him experiment on you with makeup or let him talk about his passions. Which is always a pleasure.
"Why do you have a backpack, then?" Epel glanced at the backpack which was hanging off your shoulder. He didn't mean to doubt you, but even he's been a victim to your pranks before. You're being really suspicious, but then again, it feels like you're always planning something.
"They're books, and thick ones too. They'd be difficult to carry with my hands." You shrugged, subtly showing the conversation is over as you placed your hand on the doorknob.
Of course, that part about the books was a lie. Your backpack was filled with "skincare products". They looked exactly like Vil's skincare, but really, all the bottles were filled with mayonnaise.
It's very convenient that mayo is coloured moderately like skincare products, and if it wasn't, you made sure to color match it with dye. You even tried replicating the original smell on some of them. Buying all that skincare from Sam was truly eye opening to just how expensive Vil's shiny skin is.
You're going to swap out his actual skincare with your counterfeit mayo skincare. You would pour out the contents of the original bottles and simply refill them but you have a feeling you'd never escape Vil's wrath if you did that and that's the one thing you definitely do not want to happen.
You placed the mayo skincare on his vanity table, carefully replacing each cream and balm one by one exactly as they were placed originally. Ohohoho, this is going to be great.
You put Vil's actual skincare back in your backpack and left Pomefiore with a sense of accomplishment. Oh, you wish you could see his initial reaction directly.
.
"Care to explain what these are?" Vil lifted one of his creams out of his bag, sat across from you in the Pomefiore lounge.
"They're uhhh... your skincare creams?" You acted innocent, like you had no clue why he was taking that tone with you.
"I know it was you. Epel told me he saw you in Pomefiore acting suspicious yesterday." He pressed you further, serious expression on his face. Ohohoho, you suddenly feel like you're in a detective movie.
You tried not to let the satisfaction on your face show. "Huh? I was simply taking back the magical history book I left in your room. What does your facial cream have to do with it?"
"I am not here to play this game with you. What did you do with my skincare?" He did not look amused by your excuses in the least.
"Hehehehe, I might or might not have replaced it with mayonnaise." You grinned evilly at him.
"You-" he seemed at a loss for words for a moment. "I knew you switched it out with something, but mayonnaise? Really? Why do you do these things?" He knew you knew that mayonnaise was his least favourite food. And he also knew of your affinity for pranks and jokes, but it seems he's gotten a bit too comfortable with not being their victim. Just how long have you been planning this? (One day.)
"Becaaaause, it's funny. Oh man, I wish I could've seen your face when you first applied it." you snorted, imagining his expression. His face is always such a joy to look at, but you imagine it must have been especially expressive in that moment. Your snort developed into hearty laughter.
"I for one do not find it as amusing as you do." he crossed his legs, looking at you with an expression that demanded seriousness. If you weren't so comfortable around him, you would have immediately apologised and bowed gracefully. His presence sure is strong.
You tried your best to stop laughing so he wouldn't actually kick you out of Pomefiore, but it was hard. Whenever you thought you had calmed down and tried looking him in the eyes, it was right back to laughter.
After about a minute of this, Vil seemingly gave up on stopping you, expression softening slightly.
"You should know by now how important skincare is to me. Having to miss out on it this morning was a horrible experience. Which, speaking of... just what did you do to the original contents of my products?" he looked incredibly horrified at the thought of you simply throwing away the contents.
"Oh, I, uh...." you acted nervous on purpose to make him think you're confirming his fears. His eyes widened slightly and he leaned forward in the fancy lounge chair.
"...Put the original tubes and containers away in Ramshackle dorm and bought new ones to refill with mayo." he took a visible sigh of relief. His products live another day.
"Didn't that hurt your wallet?" he asked.
"Yeah, a lot. But it was worth it." you shrugged, smiling at him.
"Well, I suppose you're quite a dedicated person, too. I didn't peg you as one initially." you really are a dedicated prankster. In some aspects, he respects the commitment. In others, he thinks you were kind of stupid for spending so much money just to annoy him.
"Always have been, pookie bear, always have been." you jokingly blew a kiss at him.
He cleared his throat, cheeks dusting pink. How ungraceful.
"I like you when you're angry." you blurted out after a few seconds of silence.
"...You're strange." he narrowed his eyes at you.
"Hahahaha, I knowwww. It's just, like... when you're angry with me for pulling a silly prank on you, it feels different. Your face becomes all expressive and stuff. Oh, and also, it's like, really hot." you recall watching a few movies which he acted in and you felt all giddy when he got angry playing the hot villain. As much as you know he dislikes being typecast, you always simp for him quite excessively when he plays a villain.
"Then why have you only pulled one prank on me so far?" he ignored that last comment after a few moments of consideration. He supposes the pranks would lose their effect if you did them too much, but if you really get that much enjoyement out of his misery, then why have you waited so long?
"Oh, that's because you get a special no-prank pass. You get it since I love y-" you paused.
"I realise I've said too much... I mean, uhhh, that was a prank! Got you! Hahahaha!" Suddenly, you wanted to remove yourself from Pomefiore, so you did just that. You quickly left the dorm without saying goodbye. You cringed at yourself for how unnatural and forced that laughter sounded.
He blinked a few times at the sudden end of the conversation and then fell back on the lounge chair.
"That little... Oh, your real goal is to make me lose my mind, isn't it..." Vil pressed his fingers against his forehead, mumbling that to himself before going to sort out some paperwork. He's wasted far too much time dealing with you anyways.
He denied any accusations from Rook about his cheeks being more pink than before.
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cobaltperun · 3 months
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Lost (Side - 1) - 25
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Tara Carpenter x female Reader
Summary: Tara hasn't had a chance to celebrate Sam's birthday in years and she'll make this one count. She just needs help from you and the twins.
Lost (first part) / Masterlist
Before we start, this was based on these two headcanons.
Word count: 2.8k
The creamy texture of the sweet chocolate and vanilla filled crescent rolls made you throw your head back with the largest grin on your face in months. "Damn, I am getting so good at this!" small victories, that was all that mattered right now.
"No way! They can't be that good!" you didn't think it was possible, but you grinned even wider when Tara jumped on your back and stole the roll right from your hand. She remained on your back as she took a bite and you turned your head to watch her reaction. "Oh, oh, they actually are good!" she devoured the roll and reached for another one on the table only to realize she was too far to reach it.
"That's what you get for doubting my skills, Carpenter," you laughed at her pout and grabbed a larger bowl to use for crescent rolls. Still, she looked too cute not to give her what she wanted. "Here you go," you handed one roll to her and placed another one in your mouth as you began arranging the remaining ones in the bowl. You set a couple down at the bottom and dusted them with a bit of powdered sugar then repeated the process as Tara happily chewed on the one you gave to her earlier.
A few moments later she reached for the one you kept in your mouth. You looked at her and then at the half-eaten roll still in her left hand. The realization hit you and you bit through the roll. Tara smiled and leaned her head against yours. When you swallowed she offered you another bite and you went back to placing the rolls in the bowl and dusting them with sugar. When that was done you cleaned up a bit, just to get some of the mess out of the way, all the while still having Tara on your back.
"Okay, time to get off," you said when you finished up and grabbed the bowl.
Tara just reached down and took a roll. "I like it up here," she whispered into your ear.
"Tara," you warned even if both of you knew you were all bark and no bite when it came to her.
"Baby," and there it was, her recently discovered secret weapon she used when you tried to put up a fight. You saw the mischievous, smug smile on her face when you sighed and began walking.
Sure, the nickname worked on you, but there was another reason for how easily you gave in. Sam's twentieth birthday was just around the corner and it would be the second time Tara couldn't spend that day with her. Tara's been, well, she wasn't exactly in a good mood these past few days, and seeing her this relaxed put you at ease as well. Also, she actually had an appetite and it always made you happy when you could sneak a proper meal into her usual routine.
You opened the fridge and crouched down, with Tara still hanging onto your back like a koala. "Orange juice, iced tea, milk, I dunno, lots of things," you listed the various drinks you saw in the fridge. "What do you want?" you glanced down and noticed a small bottle in the doors. You nearly forgot about it. "Oh, yeah, I made kiwi syrup, wanna try the juice?"
"Dude, why are you even asking? Of course, I want!" Tara laughed, honestly, with how much she liked kiwi you really shouldn't have asked.
You took two glasses and poured some syrup into them before filling them up with water and mixing the two with a spoon. You handed a glass to Tara and picked the other one up.
"Say, Y/N, would you make something just for me?" Tara asked almost out of the blue.
"Of course," you assured her as you climbed up the stairs to your childhood room.
~X~
Tara's request was the same back then as it was a few days ago. 'Please make ojo de pancha,' so, you did, both back then and today and all the times in between when Tara would get nostalgic and start missing Sam more than she usually did. It was delicious, sure, but there was something else to it that made it special for Tara, and you were willing to bet it was special to Sam as well.
Thankfully, since Chad and Mindy's parents were out of town, you could work on the best birthday lunch Sam had in years in their kitchen.
You were kneading the dough for the puff pastry when Mindy walked over to you. "Good thing you have stamina, you've been at it for almost an hour," she commented and poked the dough you left to rest half an hour ago.
"Tell me about it. Puff pastry is great, but damn, it is not worth the effort," you chose to split the dough into two pieces to make it easier to work with, but that also meant a lot more kneading.
"Unless Tara asks you to make it," Mindy teased as she began loading the dishwasher.
You grinned. "I'm whipped and I'm proud!" you cried out victoriously, prompting the girl the bend over laughing.
"Don't we all know that," she sighed as her laughter subsided. "But, damn, you're really going all out," she whistled as she checked the fridge. "Chocolate eclairs, mini strawberry cheesecakes, wait, you're kidding right?" she turned to you with her jaw hanging slightly.
"Guess you found the opera?" you laughed, figuring she saw the cake.
"Okay, I see how it is," she nodded and closed the fridge. "Impressing the sister-in-law, smart."
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at that. "Sam isn't-" you tried to put up a fight.
"Zip it, you're whipped," she immediately cut you off and pointed a finger at you. "You, Y/N L/N, are so whipped I wouldn't even consider you as a suspect even if you are Tara's love interest."
There was absolutely no way to dignify that with an answer. "Are you and Chad done with decorations?" you asked instead and put the dough away, finally. Now you could make the filling.
Mindy went and sat down at the table armed with a spoon and a piece of bread. You forgot to put away the leftover filling for deviled eggs so now she was spreading it across a piece of bread. "You're the only one still working. We prepared the playlist, did the decorations, games, movies, and anything Sam might want to do is all set. Chad should arrive with flowers any minute now."
You began mixing the ingredients. "He really wants to make this surprise party memorable for Sam."
"You both do, you're too sappy and soft," Mindy pretended to gag.
You let out a short laugh and glanced back to look at her. "Says the one who set this whole thing into motion! You said we should celebrate here!" she could act tough all she wanted, but you were more than aware Mindy was one big softy, at least somewhere very, very deep down.
~X~ Earlier that day ~X~
Sam woke up to the smell of eggs, ham, and coffee and it smelled amazing. She spent the night on the couch, refusing to let Tara sleep anywhere but in a proper bed. She felt a bit stiff and mentally made a note to make sure their new apartment in New York would have more comfortable furniture. Still, her apartment was cheap, two floors beneath Tara and your apartment, and, unlike yours, had a separate bedroom.
"I told you you'd get stiff on the couch," came Tara's teasing voice, and Sam blinked a few times. By the time she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, Tara already leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Happy birthday Sammy," oh, how she missed that nickname. Nowadays, Tara uses it only on special occasions.
"Thanks," Sam pulled Tara into a hug. Finally, after five years she could spend her birthday with her sister. Maybe she could even argue it was after a decade since she no longer kept her distance from Tara.
She missed so much of Tara's life and somehow seeing the breakfast Tara made for them, complete with a dish she didn't recognize, but that looked rather tasty, only further reminded her of that.
Tara, noticing the puzzled look directed at the food, smiled and sat down. "Y/N knows a bunch of European recipes, so she taught me how to make some. This one," she pointed at the dish Sam didn't recognize. "Is Swedish, I think, sandwich cake, I went with avocado and salmon filling, and, you know, bread."
Sam nodded, impressed, both by Tara and you. "I guess Y/N didn't work as a chef for nothing," she commented, still observing the, now named, sandwich cake.
Tara laughed. "You haven't seen anything, she went all out for my eighteenth birthday and it was incredible. I don't think I've ever seen as many different dishes on the same table in my life," Tara explained excitedly spreading her arms.
Sam added another mental note, to make sure you knew just how much she appreciated everything you did for Tara. She went behind Tara and hugged her, she pressed her face against Tara's left shoulder and held back tears. "I know it doesn't change anything, but I'm so sorry for leaving you, Tara," she left shortly after Tara turned thirteen, not even realizing at the moment that she was leaving Tara around the same time Tara's father left.
One of Sam's worries was that it would ruin Christmas time for Tara, and in turn, also affect her birthday, but Tara celebrated her nineteenth birthday without any issues. Granted, she wouldn't leave your side for more than five minutes and she didn't need a seat for even a minute. Sam still wasn't sure if it was due to it being Tara's birthday or due to the freshness of your relationship and long-awaited reunion. Probably the combination of all those factors. Regardless, she was relieved.
Tara turned around and, while still sitting, hugged Sam. "It means everything, Sam, it means everything," she whispered and Sam couldn't stop the few tears from falling. "Hey, we have a lot of things to do today, let's not get emotional right away," even though Tara was the one who said it Sam could hear she was also struggling not to cry.
Sam nodded and separated from Tara. She wiped the tears from her eyes and took a deep breath. "Right, I'll be quick," she went to the bathroom. They did have a packed day ahead. Tara decided to make a repeat of Sam's thirteenth birthday. Breakfast at home, going to a local arcade, then to see a movie, back then they saw How to Train Your Dragon, then to a local bakery where Tara only had enough money to get one ojo de pancha, so they split it. Ever since then, ojo de pancha has become Sam's absolute favorite. Back then they wrapped up the day with games at home, thinking up any ways they could have fun with just the two of them.
They'd repeat the arcade, the cinema, and the game night, although the last one would be at Mindy and Chad's place. The local bakery closed even before she left Woodsboro, so they couldn't get ojo de pancha, but she could live with that.
~X~
When Sam parked in front of Mindy and Chad's house the first thing she noticed was your car already there. Which explained Tara's endearing excitement, still, it hadn't even been twenty-four hours since Tara last saw you.
When they stepped outside the car Tara actually ran around the car and raised her hands over Sam's eyes. "Really, Tara?" Sam couldn't help but chuckle, still, it was Tara and they were about to meet up with their friends, so Sam felt at ease even with her vision blocked.
"Just trust me," Tara didn't say it, but Sam heard the silent plea.
"I trust you," she assured and felt Tara close what little distance was between them to hug Sam from behind before bringing her palms back up over Sam's eyes.
"Wait, wait, we need a picture!" Chad's voice made Sam reconsider letting Tara guide her like this.
"You could earn some good money by selling that photo to Y/N," Mindy chimed in.
"Damn, I already sent it to her," Chad lamented and Sam just shook her head slightly.
"I swear, you'll never get any easy money," Mindy was probably jokingly glaring at Chad, not that Sam could see it.
"Steps," Tara warned just in time for Sam to avoid tripping. Climbing the stairs with Tara trying to cover her eyes was almost impossible, seeing as how short Tara was, but they somehow made it up the stairs alive and without the surprise being spoiled. Sam wasn't even sure what Tara was keeping her from seeing, since they were still outside and the house looked normal. Oh well, Tara probably wanted to do it so she did it.
Sam was led into the house and into the living room and only then did Tara let her look. Sam's jaw dropped. There were balloons in each corner of the house, with large 2 and 5 shaped balloons hanging behind the sofa, where she was likely meant to sit. The was a huge 'Happy 25th birthday Sam!' banner hanging from the ceiling. She figured you and Chad moved the kitchen table to the living room and it was filled to the brim. Two plates filled with chocolate eclairs and mini strawberry cheesecakes. An amazing-looking cake with number 2 and 5 candles stuck on it. A bean soup steamed from the center of the table with a plate filled with chicken rolls stuffed with vegetables on one side of it and a plate of pork chops on the other side. Deviled eggs, guacamole, and crunchy-looking pizza rolls completed the table. Still, there was one spot open.
"Happy birthday, Sam," you said as you came out of the kitchen, a large plate raised high above your head. She couldn't believe there was actually more as Tara sat her down at the head of the table.
And then she saw the content of the plate as you set it down. Ojo de pancha... a whole lot of them, arranged in a heart shape. She felt Tara squeeze her shoulders and looked up to look at you taking the apron off. Her vision got blurry, definitely from the yet-to-be-shed tears. "You're crazy, all of you," she blinked, but it barely kept the tears at bay.
"And you're loved, by all of us," you tossed the apron over the chair, likely meant for you, on Sam's far right.
"Sappy, but right," Mindy and Chad brought out flowers, a beautiful custom-made bouquet.
"You deserve this and so much more. Happy birthday, Sam," Chad grinned at her and Sam just couldn't take it anymore.
She buried her face into the crook of Tara's neck and cried, overwhelmed by the happiness and love she felt. She felt Tara gently rubbing her back with one hand and then heard the three of you getting up. In a matter of moments, she was engulfed in the largest hug she ever experienced in her life and her sister was at the very center of it.
She never had this while she was growing up. Before she found out who her father actually was she had some friends, but they weren't keen on playing with 'Sam's sick little sister' so Sam stopped playing with them as well. After she found out about Billy her company consisted of teenagers at least a few years older than her that would help her get drunk and eventually introduce her to drugs. None of those people were meant to be lasting friendships that went beyond getting into trouble. In Modesto she was already used to being on her own, mostly going for short flings or acquaintances keeping her company.
She had it now. Strong arms. Warm arms. Firmly holding onto her and giving her a reason beyond herself or even just her and Tara to be strong and protect what she finally got. Because she finally found family in these people.
As the group separated she took the ojo de pancha in the middle of the heart and split it into five pieces. There were plenty of them on the plate, more than enough for all five of them, but there was just something about sharing that first one with her family that made all five of them share warm smiles.
A/N: And that's the first side story for Lost. Honestly, I know I completed it a bit less than a week ago, but it felt good to come back to these two. Especially since Wednesday is kicking my ass... This is also the first time in my life I actually left the first draft to rest for a bit and then came back to polish it, so I'm actually kinda happy with the results. I'll take that approach with Wednesday and I might actually go back and give Lost that treatment as well, but that depends on some other things as well. Anyway, I'm rambling, thanks for reading!
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lostfirefly · 1 month
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Make my coffee sweet and warm, just the way you used to lie in my arms
The idea for this fic came to me when I was sitting in a coffee shop and saw a barista with purple hair. Pain continues leading me to art :) English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)
Buggy and Fem.Reader - Masterlist is here.
Description: You were sitting in a coffee shop for work. The barista was Buggy.
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI (sorry not sorry).
Words: 1791
Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots
The title is taken from “One Cup of Coffee” by Bob Marley.
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“This latte is disgusting!” You were sitting in the coffee shop with your friend. 
“It could be worse, Y/N.” Your friend said, sipping her espresso.
“Oh, yeah. This’s not coffee, this's some kind of slop.” You opened your laptop and took out a notebook. “So, what do we have with the exhibition. Look, I received some corrections from Mr. Thompson he said Mr. Monkey D. Luffy wants this exposure to stand here in the corner, and this one should be moved here. Do you remember how hysterical he threw the last time that his new exposure was not seen? I can't stand another evening like this.” You added more sugar to the cup. “No, it's impossible to drink. Wait for me, I'll be right there.” 
You slammed your palms on the table and went to the counter. There was no one behind it. 
“Hey, who's making coffee here? Hey?” You knocked on the table. 
"Why are you yelling, sweet cake?!” A tall man with a red nose, blue hair and makeup on his face came swaying from the kitchen. “I have a terrible hangover. What do you want?” 
“At least that explains why we drink disgusting coffee in the morning.” You looked at him, crossing your arms. “Do you even know how to brew it? Or did you take makeup lessons instead of barista courses? Sorry, but your crossed bones on your face and smeared lipstick look much better than the crap you served us in these cups.” 
“Fuck it. Do you have anything substantive to say? I was actually sleeping.” The man scratched his head and poured himself some coffee from the coffee pot. “It's a good coffee. So, do you have any other complaints?” He leaned his elbows on the counter. 
You growled, slammed your palm on the table again and went to your table.
You sat with your friend, discussing the exhibition, when she suddenly received a message.
“Damn, Y/N. This is Thompson. He says there is an urgent order, a certain Mr. Jinbe will be exhibiting in the central gallery. I’ll leave for a couple of hours and come back.”
Your friend packed her things, grabbed her laptop and quickly ran away. The only people left in the coffee shop were you, the clown barista and a couple of customers who came in to take their coffee to go. You carefully watched the barista, who dropped every single item he grabbed in his hands, cursed under his breath and did not behave very kindly with visitors.
The clown made two lavender rafs, practically threw the cups on the counter, took the money, and swore again as the customers left. He muttered something under his breath and headed towards the front door. You watched him out of the corner of your eye. 
“What are you doing?” You asked, watching him change the sign on the door to “closed.” 
“I’m closing the coffee shop, can’t you see it?” He muttered. 
“It's only 8 am.” You answered, looking at your watch. 
“So what? I’m already tired. Why can’t they drink coffee at home?” The clown walked along the counter, turned behind it, and took out a bottle of whiskey.
“Great. The clown locked me in a coffee shop at 8 am, and he is already drinking whiskey.” You smiled and started typing. “Make me more of your disgusting coffee, since I'm stuck with you.” 
He growled in response, rolled his eyes, quickly took a sip of whiskey and began making coffee. At that moment you received a call. 
“What do you mean you won't come back?” You asked in surprise. “Damn. Call me when you're done.” You threw the phone on the table. “Crap.” 
“Bad morning?” The clown asked, pouring coffee into your mug. 
“Not your business!” You barked.
“Easy, sweet cake! Your coffee.” He came over and set you coffee and a plate of eclair. 
“I didn't order this.” You pointed at the eclair. 
“At my expense. To smooth out your morning.” 
“Oh. Thank you.” You pushed the plate towards you. 
He sat down opposite you and took a sip from the bottle. “What are you doing?” He asked, putting his foot on the table. 
You raised an eyebrow. “Working.” 
“I understand that. I mean, what do you do for a living?” 
“Ah, I’m an exhibition coordinator.” You took a sip of your coffee and cleared your throat, “Oh my god. Did you put whiskey in my coffee?” 
“Now it's more fun, right?” He laughed. 
“You're an idiot?” You wiped your mouth with your palm.
“Oh, don't be so boring. What's your name, by the way?”
“What? Shit! Y/N. And your name? The man who pours whiskey into his coffee.” You chuckled. 
“Hi, Y/N. I’m Buggy!”  He held out the bottle to you. You looked at him for a few seconds, then took the mug in your hand and lightly clinked it against the neck of the bottle.
You took a sip of your coffee and took a bite of your eclair. “No, the coffee is disgusting. And with whiskey it got even worse.” 
Buggy took your mug, poured the coffee into the nearby flowers and poured you some whiskey. 
“I can’t drink. I’m working, Buggy!” You looked at him for a while, then pushed the glass closer and took a sip of the whiskey.
“Have a wonderful day at work, baby!” He raised his glass and winked.
He took a sip of whiskey, loudly put the glass on the table, and walked out the door into the kitchen. You were calmly typing the text when you heard a crash from the other room. 
“Hey, you. Buggy. Are you alive?” 
There was no answer. 
You took another sip of whiskey and stared at the door. You took another drink, then got up from your seat and went to the kitchen. 
You carefully looked behind the door. “Is there anyone? Are you alive? I heard a noise.” The sound of swearing reached you. You walked towards Buggy and saw him with a burnt hand.
“What happened?” You asked, approaching him.
“I took out fucking trays with fucking croissants.” 
“Do you have a first aid kit?” You asked, looking at his hand.
Buggy glanced at the box. You took out your bag of medicine and took his hand. 
“What are you doing?” He asked in surprise. 
“I’m treating your hand, idiot. Who goes into the oven without gloves.” 
“Don't touch me!” Buggy tried to pull his hand back, but you held it tightly. 
“No way. I'm stuck here with you, and I can't let the only person with the key lose his arm because of stupid croissants.”
Buggy looked at you with his green eyes, not understanding why you were showing concern. You wrapped his hand in a bandage and gently ran your fingers over his palm. 
“There you go. Just like new, huh?” You smiled and didn’t even realize how you ran your hand through his blue hair. Buggy kept his eyes on you and suddenly took your hand. You ran your fingers over his cheek and chin and didn’t realize how you pressed your lips into his. 
Buggy abruptly wrapped his arms around you, turned you around and sat you on the table.
You took off his shirt and began to unbutton his pants as he ran his lips down your neck. 
“Fuck, I've never done anything like that.” You whispered, taking off your t-shirt. 
“Me too, sweet cake.” Buggy said between kisses. 
“It's your fucking whiskey.” You ran your hands over his biceps.
“Maybe,” Buggy said, taking off his underwear and pants.
“I'll give you a bill for ruining my morning.” You said, pressing your lips against his. You felt his tongue slide between your lips. You moaned through the kiss.
“Oh, Y/N, I’ll pay you right now.” Buggy took off your skirt and underwear. You wrapped your arms and legs around him as you felt him enter you sharply in your aching cunt. 
“Fuck!!” Your skin heated up, the burning sensation flared up. 
Buggy’s lips captured yours greedily. The spark that lighted up you inside made your hips grind and reached up to run your fingers through his long hair. His gripped on your wrist and thigh tightens, pressing your thigh against his as he growls, leaking desire and sex.
“Oh, shit. So good!” You felt his teeth nipping your lips, his hand squeezed your ass and the other touched your nipples.
Buggy gripped your ass tightly, putting cock deeper in your cunt. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re amazing.”
“Don’t stop, please!” You whispered. 
The kitchen table shook from the force of him, bowls and utensils fell off the table. You threw your head back, and Buggy used the opportunity to mark your shoulders with his lipstick traces, growling, grunting, hearing your moans. 
“So good, Buggy. Just fuck me.” Your hands hooked against his back. That was all new. New sensations from the way a strange clown barista fucks you.
As you clung to him and move closer to him, you moaned against his lips as his pace quickens.
“You like that, Y/N?” He thrusts wildly, your name moaning on his lips as his arms tighten around you. Cunt tight around his cock as he hammered against your cervix, he loved the feeling of you.
“Fuck, Buggy!” You moaned his name loudly, your eyes rolled, it was hard for you to focus on anything else, only on his cock fucking you senseless. 
Your legs trembling as they tighten around his waist, your body shaking against him, nails digging hard. Your cunt clenches around Buggy's cock, feeling every curve, every vein as he fucks you harder, when you are arching your back. His lips on your neck, growling loudly and grunting with every thrust.
“Scream for me, my sweet cake.” Buggy whispered in your ear. 
And you cried out, the pleasure still comes as he fucked you. Ecstasy flew through your veins, each touch scalding you. His cock insulted your insides and your body shook and convulsed, completely overwhelmed by his power.
Buggy kissed your cheek, sighing, grunting, growling, praising your body with every hammering thrust. His hips moved faster, stuttering, your body almost completely limp in his arms except for yours still tightly gripping his shoulders and clawing.
Buggy’s thrusts became harsh, his hands squeezed your body tightly, his breathing became ragged and raspy between moans. His rough breaths, rumbling moans as he threw his head back, when he came.
Both panting against each other, pressing themselves against each other, Buggy pressed his cheek against yours, inhaling deeply to take in your scent.
“The sex was amazing, Buggy. But the coffee is still crap.” You said and kissed him on the lips.
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