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#so i can like write more about and speaking to this
moonstruckme · 15 hours
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the sleepy remus drabble was everything but what about sleepy james x reader just cuddling on the couch with remus and sirius teasing them omfgg
Thanks for requesting lovely! I realized halfway through writing this that I wasn't sure if you meant rem and sirius were there platonically or not, but I hope this is alright <3
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 870 words
Even when you hear the voices, you pretend you don’t, too comfortable on the plush cushion of James’ hoodie. Opening your eyes isn’t worth the effort. 
“Is this what they do when we’re not home?” Sirius’ voice is low and ripe with faux outrage.
James hushes him, so he’s awake apparently. His thumb moves over your tummy, big hand tucked into the warmth between your sweatshirt and your bare skin. “You’ll wake her,” he says, voice still sticky with sleep.
“She ought to be awake, it’s five in the afternoon!” 
Remus’ voice is softer, skeptical. “I don’t see how either of you expect to sleep through the night if you nap like this during the day.”
“We manage,” James yawns. 
You hear Sirius huff. If the muscles in your face were more active you think you’d smile. “I thought we were going to Marlene’s thing tonight,” he complains. 
“Still planning on it.” James’ palm splays over your middle, warm and safe. “We’re resting up.” 
“This is how you prepare for Friday nights now? Fuck, we must be getting old.” 
You whine at his volume, nuzzling your face into James’ chest. 
“Oh, so she is awake. What, sweet thing, you don’t feel like saying hi?” 
This time James coos at your protesting sound. His hand slips from beneath your sweatshirt to wrap around your shoulders, shielding you from your pestering boyfriend. 
“Oh, let’s have a bit of sympathy,” Remus says, sounding amused, “she’s had a long, hard day of napping. She deserves a bit of rest.” 
You want to remind him it’s your day off, but speaking feels like giving into wakefulness, and that is something you are not inclined to do. Instead, you try to wriggle beneath the blanket halfway up James’ torso, curling in on yourself like a roly poly. He helps you out, pulling it up to cover your head and draping an arm over your balled-up form. 
“It’s her day off,” he says, your hero. “Why shouldn’t she get to rest?” 
“That’s fair enough,” Remus allows, “but why were you sleeping?”
James hesitates. “Well, I didn’t have anything to do after training and she…she lured me in.” 
It’s true. James after rugby training is like Remus after he spends all day reading; he’s all worn out and pliable, and you’d practically only had to open your arms for him to fall right into them and then a cuddle on the couch had turned into a two-hour nap. Terribly unfortunate. Certainly not your plan all along. 
You decide it’s your turn to protect James from the others, wriggling up on his chest and covering his head with the blanket. You see his smile through half-lidded eyes, and outside of your little cave, Remus chuckles. 
“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” 
“I think we should get in bed and have a cuddle they’re not invited to,” says Sirius. “See how they like it.” 
“I’m not sure we can leave them in good conscience.” The sound of Remus' smile makes you smile, your cheek smushing into James’ chest. “She’s just taken Jamie. If we let her go on like this, she’ll have them both sleeping ‘til tomorrow.” 
That actually sounds rather appealing. 
“They’re jealous of us,” James whispers. You hum your agreement, and he kisses the crown of your head. 
“We could go to all their favorite things,” Sirius proposes. “Make them remember the benefits of leaving the couch.” 
“Like what? Watch sports?” 
“And eat pastries. She loves a sweet.” 
“Mm, yeah. I could fancy a sweet.” 
“From the shop on sixth? They should still be open, yeah?” 
“Stay strong, angel,” James whispers. “Don’t let them break you.” 
“They ought to be. Oh, and the pub down that way will be showing the Manchester match tonight. We could stop and see that.” 
“Sick and twisted!” James throws the blanket off, uncovering you in the process. “You never watch football with me.” 
“I have,” Remus hedges, “that one time.” 
“Last year! And you were reading your book on the other side of the pillow!” 
He turns sheepish. “Didn’t realize you’d noticed that.” 
“But now you’re going to watch it just to spite me?” 
“No,” Sirius admits. “We were never going to watch football, Jamie, sorry.” James deflates, and you squeeze him tight around the middle in a show of solidarity. 
“But we can go by the bakery on our way to Marlene’s thing,” Remus says, adding when you perk up, “if we leave soon enough. They make those danishes you like on Fridays, don’t they?” 
“Seriously?” you ask, your voice croaky and hopeful. 
“That’s me, babe,” Sirius teases, “and I’m down to stop by, but only if I get what I’m owed.” At your blank look, he raises a dark brow. “My welcome home kiss?” 
Oh. “You’re gonna have to come down here,” you mumble. He makes a show of rolling his eyes, but obliges you, bending at the waist to take your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours firmly. He does the same to James once you’re done, straightening with a satisfied look on his face. 
“Appeased?” Remus asks placidly. 
“Yes,” Sirius answers, “the evening may now continue. Up, you two. We’ve got places to be.” 
637 notes · View notes
acciojaeyun · 3 days
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under the web | p.sh.
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PAIRING. officemate!sunghoon x fem!reader
SUMMARY. there's something about the way people seemed to scurry about whenever park sunghoon from the IT department would be coming to whichever area of the office. that's something that would be all because of you, his lovely officemate. your constant teasing and mockery of that one thing you know about park sunghoon made it seem to reach the headlines, and park sunghoon was determined to let you know that you're not the boss here.
CONTENTS. smut, some angst, some fluff. smut with plot. not beta-read. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
SMUT WARNINGS. making out, humiliation, implied dom vs. dom dynamics, dirty talk, slight exhibition, curses, virginity, unprotected sex (please practice safe s), reader is a jealous menace (a bit stalker-ish), mentions of manga, mentions of other members, if i forgot some, lmk!
WORD COUNT. 4.1k
AUTHOR'S NOTE. this will be my first ever sunghoon fic after a long while! i did take a hugeee slump after writing ( and had never been so inspired to write oneshots until now. and i'm such a sucker for glasses hoon and this is the product of it. thank you so much for reading! <3
MY LIBRARY. REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
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It was an annoying morning.
Or well, for you, it was annoying. For you had to witness a group of interns gushing over the "guy with rolled sleeves and glasses making his coffee," and you scoffed when they mentioned that he looked like an Americano drinker, which, in their words, made him more attractive.
You rolled your eyes, the guy that they were talking about never liked Americano. In fact, his black instant coffee had the same amount, if not more, of cream added to his stainless steel coffee tumbler.
How did you know about that, though?
One thing about you was that you knew Park Sunghoon very well. He was the Class Salutatorian of Batch 2023, bachelor's in Information Technology. It was pretty impressive, if you were to ask everyone else. Park Sunghoon was immediately hired by the company that you are working in, and while you can say that Sunghoon did deserve both the position and the benefits, you couldn't help but feel like he didn't deserve the attention men and women alike were pouring him.
Of course, if anything, it should be you showering him attention. But, you wouldn't do that. Not when you're Y/N Y/L/N. You're the darling of the company, the sweetheart, so to speak. Because even though you cannot be of the same level as that of talent, knowledge, and skill which Sunghoon possess along with his looks, you were a pretty hardworking person.
Being in the Marketing Department also had its hardships, and while you still pray for the day commoners stop shunning down your bachelors, you are able to supply yourself with your needs and wants just by exerting everything you've learned in business and people-speaking.
But there was something about Park Sunghoon that makes him your own thesis.
Your own skill in building relationships didn't seem to work on him as much as you had hoped. Okay, let's admit it, you had taken a liking into Park Sunghoon. The quiet IT Specialist that exuded looks that were enough to make women fall to their knees.
A little bit of chit-chat here and there, some subtle glances and light touches, you were still far from the starting line. Park Sunghoon still hadn't reciprocated at least a fraction of your advancement towards him.
And by now, you're almost as helpless as it could be as you're munching on your own lunch, eyes over the cubicle of the IT department, watching how Sunghoon eats his sandwich, gaze never leaving his computer as he typed in codes with his other hand.
"How's the thing with Mr. Cold guy doing?" Sunoo would nudge your side as he caught you staring at Sunghoon for the nth time today.
You rolled your eyes for the nth time today as well, "He's so annoying."
"Now, he's annoying? Please, Y/N, cut yourself some slack. You need to get humbled, too, you know?" The blonde boy laughed as he sipped on his coffee.
"I just don't know how he hasn't caught up on it yet," you groaned, stabbing your fork on the penne pasta that you had on your lunchbox, "I've been doing a lot! How come he's still oblivious!"
"That, or he knows and just doesn't want to do anything."
You furrowed your eyebrows at Sunoo, "What do you mean?"
"Please, you're practically throwing yourself at him, it's a miracle how he hasn't caught up on yet."
"Or, he's a virgin."
Sunoo laughed, "Maybe,"
A loud thud on your desk was heard throughout the department as you placed your lunchbox down, "I'll talk to him."
"Again?" Sunoo looked at you, bewildered. "And, while he's working?"
"What, can't he handle a little distraction?"
"With you almost pushing your boobs towards his face? I think not."
"You know what? Fuck you." You flipped your best friend off, making him laugh as he ate his tteokbokki happily, ready to see you in your downfall yet again.
You, on the other hand, were determined. Straightening your slacks and blouse, grabbing your laptop, you made your way over to the IT Department, greeting everyone along the way while making a beeline straight to Sunghoon.
"Hi," you greeted.
Sunghoon hummed, his eyes still not leaving his screen.
"I mean to come to you to help me with a feature on the application that we're using?"
The boy glanced at you, his chewing coming to a slow halt.
"What about it?"
"Oh, I was hoping that I can access the Network's files? I've forgotten my flash drive at home and I only have access to some of the files but it would be in Sunoo's disk."
Sunghoon flashed you an impressed look at your terms, at the bare minimum.
"It'd be against company policy to allow you to access other people's disks without their consent, Ms," Sunghoon cleared his throat, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "and besides, aren't you friends with Mr Kim, anyway? Why wouldn't you ask him directly?"
"Uh, well..." you trailed off, "well, Sunoo also has the copy of this file on his flash drive, and coincidentally, he has also forgotten it at home!"
The boy raised an eyebrow at you. He was not buying it, you thought.
But your thoughts were proven wrong as Sunghoon swivelled in his chair, clicking on the multiple tabs open until he had manipulated the system for the time-being upon your request.
Your hands glanced on his hands, so dainty, long, and pretty. You wondered how it would feel around your neck, or in your pussy.
"It'll be open only for your access, Ms," Sunghoon said, looking up at you, "I'll be resetting it to company's default after forty-five minutes. Would that be enough time for you to get your files?"
You nodded, "Yes, thank you,"
"Do you have anything else for me to help with?" Sunghoon looked at you with a raised brow, making you blush.
"N-No, not that I know of, thank you, Sunghoon," you smiled at him.
He merely nodded before opening his coding software, clearly blocking you out from all his senses as he returned to eating his sandwich and work.
You pursed your lips, inhaling a large breath as you excused yourself from his cubicle, greeting yet another group of people acknowledging your presence as you made your way out of their department.
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You were not expecting what you are seeing.
Not at all.
Whatever it was, there seems to be a glitch in the system as you also had an access to Sunghoon's drive.
You see, it was not your fault you were a bit nosy over your crush. You had taken a liking in him, and maybe, you think, there may be some stuff about him in his drive that could let you know a little more about him.
If not him, then, maybe, technology, his trusted friend, could help you.
You've seen his curriculum vitae, all the data he's working with, his clients, as well as a folder of his personal stuff which included torrented movies.
You laughed, his degree really has his perks.
You were so close to clicking off the movie folder named "O", but as you clicked on the next folder, named "P," you gasped at the number of porn videos were downloaded into the folder.
And all of them had the same theme: office sex.
It maybe too much, but in your mind, it made sense, when you were noticing how each of the female partners had the same features as you. Smirking to yourself, you glanced a look at the IT Specialist, bingo.
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Surprised would be an understatement when Sunghoon entered the pantry as he went through his usual routine: leave his things at his desk, make his creamy coffee, work, leave to buy Subway for lunch, work, leave at 5:30 PM sharp.
He was surprised when the first people in the pantry left as he entered the room, furrowing his eyebrows when he heard faint words such as, "porn," "boundaries," and "couldn't he have had downloaded it in his own laptop?"
Now, Sunghoon may have been overthinking. His quiet life at work was already enough for him. But there was something bugging him for the first time in his life as he placed water in his stainless cup, especially when after making his coffee, no one would even dare look at him as he made his way to his cubicle, men and women, alike, swivelling their chairs to move farther from him, as if he were a plague.
Sunghoon rolled his eyes, it was getting to his nerves.
And if it weren't for Jake, his only friend in the department, who initially swivelled his chair away form Sunghoon, but then decided to swivel back as Sunghoon didn't even stand up for lunch, who told him about the rumours that spread about him, he wouldn't have known, and there was only one person who would have accessed his files.
You.
He snickered at the story Jake was telling him, and left Jake to his imagination whether the story was true or not, only giving him a shrug when the older did try to confirm to him.
"Believe what you want," Sunghoon responded, typing aggressively on his keyboard, "besides, I think you have, since you initially scooted away from me."
"Look, man," Jake scooted closer, whispering, "if it's not true, I could tell it to them, you know? I don't want them to think of you as some horny teenager who doesn't know about work boundaries."
"As if they're going to believe you," Sunghoon curtly responded before pressing a key harshly before looking at his friend, "if it came from Y/N, no one would even bat an eye at you."
"Y/N? Why her?"
"Only she had access to my files yesterday. Wouldn't it be too much of a coincidence if the story only spread now?" He chuckled, amused.
"So, it's true?"
Sunghoon shrugged again.
"Are you going to do something to address it?"
"Address it? What for? They already think I'm some horny dude, anyway."
"Well," Jake licked his lips, "just send me the stashes next time, too, okay?"
Sunghoon laughed.
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Your plan was working.
A lot of people had taken their distances from Park Sunghoon. Making you think you're progressing at your plan to keep people away from him.
You can't help it. As long as there were hindrances in your way towards Sunghoon, you think there would be little chances to make your advances to him. You had yet to tell Sunoo, but you know that he was already aware of the rumour, and he would ask you about it after his client events.
So, while everyone had left Sunghoon alone in the pantry, that was your cue to enter the pantry. Making your way as calmly as possible to the counter as possible, you placed your food on the microwave, heating your breakfast as Sunghoon was stirring his drink in his cup.
"I never took you as the guy," you sighed, faking sympathy, getting more annoyed as you never got any reaction from the boy.
"I was expecting more from you, Mr. Salutatorian, I'm sure you know about policy since you were so high and mighty about it when I tried to get into Sunoo's files," you continued, watching his every reaction.
But he remained stoic. And that irked you.
You were about to open your mouth when the microwave had beeped, making you jump and take your food, frustrated over the fact that Sunghoon was ignoring you. Forgetting that it was still hot and you didn't retrieve the mittens beside it, you burned your fingers, finally getting Sunghoon's attention.
He discarded his coffee and immediately went his way over to you, grabbing a hold of your hand before examining your fingers, his eyes never leaving it as he tried to suck on it in attempts of both soothing the wound and seducing you.
Your breath hitched, making you look at him. What the hell was he doing?
"S-Sunghoon?"
He smirked at you as he pushed your fingers to his mouth, wetting your pointer finger with his warm tongue, only for him to retract it and swirl it on the tip of it.
"There's one menace between the two of us," Sunghoon whispered as he pulled away, leaning in to you, "and it's not gonna be you."
You let out a breath you didn't know you held as he pulled away and made his way out of the pantry.
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Weeks later, you found yourself mad at Park Sunghoon.
Because after the incident at the pantry, he seemed to be hovering in your space more times than you would like. And while it did seem the best thing for you, it wasn't. For Sunghoon was not only hovering, but he made sure his presence was made known whenever he was around.
Holding on your waist, rubbing his crotch against your bum, rolling his sleeves whenever he knew you looked at him – while keeping his unbothered expression at his face.
Other than that, you were thinking he was losing his game as another person had suddenly took a liking into you. Food in carton boxes at your table by the morning you come in to work, and while you had hoped that it were him, your hopes were shut down as fifteen minutes after you had arrived from work, only had then Sunghoon, too.
Flowers were also hard to miss every week. There was a different flower every week, the whole department gushing whenever you grab a stem on your desk. And while you had hoped it was Sunghoon, again, you looked at his desk and see him in his natural habitat: working and face straight to the computer.
By this time, you had grown infuriated. Because you felt like he was toying with you. Especially when he was not paying you any attention at the Thanksgiving Party your office had held after reaching more than the targeted quarterly sales, and it was because of you! Why wasn't he giving you any attention?
Blame it on the alcohol in your system, and your innate drive to prove something to Sunghoon, a trait of yours that you have acquired overtime, you made your way towards the guy who was alone at the bar, nursing his on the rocks with his finger dancing around the rim of the glass.
"Aren't you going to congratulate me?" you spat, annoyed.
Sunghoon turned on his seat, smirking at you, "For being the best employee?"
"What else!"
He chuckled, taking a sip on his drink, "Congratulations, princess,"
You scoffed, "That's it?"
He grinned, "What, you'd want me to kneel for you?"
You were stunned. "You know what? Whatever, Sunghoon, I feel like I'm just a game to you, anyway."
And maybe that's what did it for Sunghoon, because the moment you uttered those words, you found yourself being pulled by your wrist outside of the ballroom you were in by none other than Park Sunghoon himself.
"Let go of me, Sunghoon!" you said as you tried to escape from his grasp.
But Sunghoon did not budge, he was determined on making you regret what you say. He pushed the fourteenth floor button, the floor where he was staying, and even though it took quite a while to get to the floor, Sunghoon didn't even try to lay his hands on you, it was better for him to do it on his bed, anyway.
Because you deserved it.
The moment the elevator doors opened, you found yourself being pulled to his room, with heavy breaths as he discarded his suit jacket on the couch, he turned around and met you in a passionate kiss, surprising both you and Sunghoon.
Ah, if there was one thing you didn't know about Sunghoon? Was the fact that he was a virgin. He never had any relationships in the past, and it had only been you whom he was very attracted by. So, it was bound to happen, perhaps. Sunghoon giving you his virginity in the hopes of you reciprocating his feelings.
But Sunghoon was a realistic man, of course, he knew that he was just your own entertainment. Having a lot of suitors here and there, he knew he had to step up his game.
That meant, letting you see through his drive because he was scared of doing the first move of asking you out on a proper date, because everyone was always first in doing so.
A few occurrences later, Sunghoon had decided on levelling his courtship up by bringing you food to your table the moment he gets to work. His bag still on his hand as he ordered your favourite meal as he sped placing it on your table before making his coffee.
Sunghoon had started realising that you liked flowers, so he had brought it upon himself to at least give you flowers every week, keeping it anonymous before he finally musters enough confidence to tell you that it was him who was giving you the gifts.
Not Jake, not Jay, and most certainly not Heeseung.
So, he hopes he had translated all of his misunderstood feelings into the kiss, cupping your jaw as he pushes his tongue in your mouth, swallowing the moan that you had blessed him.
"You drive me so fucking crazy, Y/N," he groans into the kiss, "accusing me of playing with you when you were the one who started this in the first place." He trails off, his lips pressing onto your mouth up and down before stopping by the skin near your collarbones for him to suck.
You let out a whimper, too lost in the feeling of his lips on your skin, "You drive me so fucking crazy, too," you start, letting your head fall back to have the boy kiss more of your skin, "I don't know what's on your mind most of the time." Sunghoon had found your sweet spot below your ear, making you gasp.
The boy hummed, wrapping his hands around your waist, pulling your body flush against his, slowly rolling his hips forward so you could feel his hard cock pressed against you, "Well, it's about time you know that you take over the expanse of my mind, princess."
You were already soaking wet at this point, basking in how Sunghoon looked today, you swear you could feel yourself salivating over how he presents himself. You pull his face away from your neck, locking your lips in an uncoordinated kiss. "I need you, Sunghoon."
Sunghoon groaned, kissing you for a moment longer before abiding to his girl's needs. His cock was aching, and you needed him. It was time to cut the chase.
"My needy little slut," Sunghoon growls as he teased you by rubbing your clit over your panties, and when he slid his hands through her folds, he was met by pleasing wetness, making him chuckle, "You've been trying to fool everyone with how much of a sweetheart you are, angel," he hummed, rubbing his nose on the crook of your neck, "but you really are a menace. Wanting her Sunghoon to give all of his attention to her,"
"Y-Yes," You moaned, grinding your hips on his fingers, "M-My Sunghoon,"
And when he motions to remove his glasses, you tap his wrist and shook your head, making him realise you never want his glasses off, making him chuckle.
"You liked hearing it, don't you?" Sunghoon inquires as he pushes you to the bed, pulling you over the edge of it as he bites on your panties, pulling it down to pool on your ankles, "You love the idea of me being yours, don't you, Y/N?" He smiles as he sinks his finger in you, curling as you clench around you.
"Yes, I do - shit, Sunghoon!" You managed to say, "I did everything because I only want you! Only you!"
Sunghoon docks his head in between your thighs to hide the blush creeping to his cheeks before pressing hot kisses into the expanse of your inner thighs, fluttering light kisses as his lips made its way to your folds, kissing it before he gives kitten licks to your bud.
Your back arches, satisfying Sunghoon with his little experimentation. He, then, soon, pushes another finger in as he started swirling his tongue on your clit, alternating between licking his tongue flat from your hole up to your clit, making you thrash your legs everywhere.
He moaned when you clamped your legs around his face, urging him to continue his movements, "M' close, Hoon," you whispered, one of your hands leaving the sheets to tangle in his newly-cut hair, and with one more curl of Sunghoon's fingers, you were already tumbling over the edge, your cries of his name falling from your mouth.
"God, you're so beautiful, Y/N," Sunghoon whispers as he cleans you off with his tongue, and when he was done, he pushes himself up as he unbuckles his belt and removes his trousers, discarding the article at some part of the room.
"I wanna ride you," You confess, making Sunghoon blush again, "oh, are you... is this your first time?" You asked, your eyes widening slightly as Sunghoon replied with a nod.
Your heart almost burst at his confession, making you sit up and pull him into a slow kiss, "I want to see how you'd look so damn sexy sitting on my cock, Y/N," Sunghoon breathes, "but I want- I need-"
"Take your time with me, Hoon."
A breath escapes you when Sunghoon finally gets you out of your dress, his hands immediately pinching at your nipple. And without another word, Sunghoon lifts your leg and lines himself to your entrance. And with a heavy breath in, he pushes in slowly, the roll of his hips feeling delicious until he's fully buried inside you, low moans heard throughout the room.
"I, fuck, Y/N," Sunghoon starts, groaning instead as you clench around him. Sunghoon hovers over you, his arms on either side of your head before resting his forehead against yours so he could look into your eyes, "God, I love you so much, Y/N."
Before Sunghoon ever regrets he had confessed out of nowhere, you had already pushed your lips on his hungrily, meeting his thrusts, you let out a whine as Sunghoon placed your legs over his shoulders, reaching deeper of you, the same time he rubs slow circles on your clit in time with his harsh thrusts.
"God, you feel so fucking amazing, Y/N," he breathes, earning a chuckle from you as you say, "You're fucking me so good, Hoon,"
Sunghoon smiles at your continuous use of his nickname, before his eyebrows furrow as he lets out a breathless moan as he hit your g-spot, making you squeal, "Jesus, I'm not gonna last much longer!" you say, and you were quick to wrap your legs around his waist, aiming to feel him closer.
"Me either, darling," he whispers, "come with me, please?"
And with a few more thrusts, you feel yourself coming on him, your toes curling, back arching, eyes almost rolling at the back of your head, as your nails rake down Sunghoon's back from his nape. Your walls clench around his cock, making him also reach his climax. He cuts your moans as Sunghoon pulls you to him for a hungry kiss as he empties himself in you.
He slows his thrusts down as he helps you come down from your highs, his lips attached again to your jaw down to your neck, peppering light kisses. And sooner, Sunghoon pulls out and rolls onto his back, his arms around your waist to make you roll on top of him.
A silence was heard in the room as you mindlessly traced irregular shapes on the expanse of Sunghoon's pale skin. He feels like his heart is about to explode from mixed emotions, having the girl of his dreams on top of him, his virginity in your hands – but, at the end of the day, he's unsure about your feelings for him.
However, one thing's for sure: you were all Sunghoon had ever wanted and needed, no matter how much the world can prevent him from doing so.
"I mean every word I said," Sunghoon whispers, kissing your hair, a silent affirmation to the thousand words running in your head.
You giggled, "I feel like I'd look good bouncing on your cock, too, Sunghoon."
"N-Not that.." Sunghoon blushed, "I am really crazy for you, Y/N, but you know, we could just pretend it never happened and think this is a one time thing."
"That's so unfair of you," you say, looking up and leaning your chin on his chest, "because I'd rather have you bringing over lunch and flowers every time if that meant having you every day."
Sunghoon visibly relaxed, smiling at you warmly, "So, it's forever."
"It is."
© acciojaeyun, 2024.
684 notes · View notes
st4rgzer · 3 days
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now playing…the tortured poet’s department (spencer reid)
summary: spencer left his typewriter in your apartment, maybe he was looking for something else
genre: fluffy fluff
cw!: talking briefly about a case involving children, non specified gender i think!
a/n: i want to make a part two cause it didn’t fit the rest of the song! tell me what you think🫶🏼 ttpd masterlist
you jumped up as three perfectly timed knocks came from your front door. like a puppy waiting for its owner to come home, you ran across your apartment, nearly slipping on the wooden floor. you opened the door hurriedly
“spence!” your eyes lit up at the image of spencer reid in front of you, hair tussled slightly and a soft smile on his lips.
“hi” he spoke quietly, deciding to stare at you for a few more seconds before enveloping you in a hug. the familiar scent of leather and espresso making you melt further into his arms.
you placed a sweet kiss on his cheek before pulling away slightly, he shut the front door with the back of his foot effortlessly.
“what’re you doing here? i mean, its not like i dont want you here, obviously i do ,but, its like 10pm?” you speak quick paced and unorganized, but spencer was, of course, very used to it.
“i left my typewriter here” he said with a smile “and also i really wanted to see you and didn’t want to wait ‘till tomorrow” the last part was said with a softer tone, looking down sheepishly.
you pouted slightly with a smile before planting gentle kisses to the bridge of his nose and his lips, before cradling his face in your hands.
“of course, baby. you can come here whenever” you said, your voice smooth and tender. you grabbed his hand and led him to the living room, where his typewriter sat on the coffee table. the night before, you had asked spencer to bring his typewriter so you could write letters thanking the team for coming to the dinner party you’d organized, and also, it was exciting to use one of those typewriter you had seen in movies. spencer obviously complied, accepting any invitation that served as an excuse to be with you.
“here it is, safe and sound” you said, lavishly pointing to the obvious bulk of a typewriter that rested on the wooden surface.
“thank you for keeping it in one piece honey” he joked, sitting onto the couch and examining the keys. he knew you had kept it secure, it was just a small habit of his. you nodded, sitting back on the couch, observing him attentively as his fingers grazed the sides of the device.
“who uses typewriters anyway?” you laugh, leaning on his shoulder playfully. he shakes his head and chuckles softly in return.
he sits back with you eventually. leaning his head to rest on your chest as you held onto him, sensing something was off.
“you wanna talk about it?” you say softly, treading on sensitive territory. you knew how difficult his job was, and how much he kept to himself. even if you insisted on him talking to you, you never pressured him into giving you any information that he knew you were better off without.
he sighed. you placed his head onto your lap, gently. delicately scratching his head, undoing any knots he had. that seemed to help.
“im sorry honey” “is there anything i can do to make you feel better” you press a kiss to his scalp, continuing to stroke his hair gently, and rubbing his back softly.
“just, be here. this is enough” his voice was tired, fragile. you did as he said, running your fingers through his hair. you felt his breathing slow down, and soon enough, soft snores filled the room. you smiled and pressed a kiss on his head, laying yours back on the sofa, eyes fluttering shut.
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calicoheartz · 3 days
Note
Can you write a Caitlin Clark where she always tapes her ring finger before the game and people find videos from way back in high school of her doing this tradition, after a Iowa game she gets interviewed about the tradition, and everyone pays attention even her teammates bc she never told them the reason behind the tradition which was bc she married her high school sweetheart and knew ever since they got together she was gonna marry her
The Promise of Always ; Caitlin Clark ﹒⟢
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summary : you and Caitlin being highschool sweethearts ♡
wc; 346
warnings : none , just fluff :)
my master list ㇀♡
a/n : im trying my best to finish up the rest of the reqs , there will be a lot more new content by the end of this weekend ❤️ enjoy ◡̈
Caitlin stood at the edge of the basketball court, her fingers deftly wrapping tape around her ring finger.
The star guard was always known for her pre-game routines. One such ritual, unnoticed by many, was the habit of taping her ring finger before every game. A tradition she had carried since her highschool years, with the reason behind it only being known to her, hidden beneath the layers of tape and unspoken memories.
But as Caitlin’s fame grew, so did the curiosity about this particular ritual. People began to notice the taped finger and wondered about its significance. However the point guard kept her reasons to herself, never sharing them even with her closest teammates.
After a particularly thrilling game against a fierce rival, where her skills once again shone brightly, a reporter finally mustered up the courage to ask her about the mysterious tradition.
Caitlin, surprised by the question, remained as composed as ever, paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. She then glanced at her teammates briefly, realizing she never truly explained the reason behind this tradition of hers.
Taking a deep breath, she slowly began to speak. Sharing the story of the time where she met and fell in love with her highschool sweetheart, claiming their bond had been strong from the start, and as they grew older they knew they had to make a promise to eachother. A promise of eternal love and commitment.
“We always knew we were meant to be together,” she explained, “So I started taping my ring as a reminder of the promise we made to eachother long ago. Especially since I cant wear my wedding ring while playing” she giggled.
As the interview spread across social media, videos from Cait’s highschool games resurfaced, showing her taping her finger, a simple but gesture that is so deeply personal yet so powerfully symbolic.
Not long after, pictures of your magical wedding day and quiet engagement were posted to the guards personal social media, no longer feeling the need to keep your whirlwind of a romance a secret.
her post 🥹❤️
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liked by : paigebueckers , katemartin03 , and 256,000 others
caitlinclark22 happy anniversary to the person who completes me. My other half. I love you more than words can describe , thank you for giving me the strength and courage to continue with my dreams. I’ve adored you since I was 16, and I will continue to adore you until the end. I love you y/n ! 💍
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sorry this was so short!! i tried not to stray too far from the prompt so lmk if u want more details! tysm for reading 😊
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khuzena · 2 days
Text
Waiting room
Pairing: Dr ratio, Aventurine, Sunday x g/n!reader
Summary: You can love, get on your knees and wait on a miracle. There are things that are for you and aren't for you, you should know. It's for the better.
Cw. Heavy angst, no comfort, 1% fluff, manipulative men, toxic relationships, insecurities, death?, unrequited love, breakups, them neglecting you cos…, no closure, what is love?
A/n: hi, time to make you cry. I'm getting writer's block as I'm making a new novel!! It has the ‘your guardian angel’ fics plot but w my characters. 🥳
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Dr ratio
He's a simple man, really.
Drown yourself in endless textbooks, advanced literature and neglect every other thing.
Like his thirst for knowledge; love is endless, affection is abundant.
Is what you initially thought.
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It has been the 4th time this week that he turned down your requests, “Dear, you know I have no time for that.”
He does not try to sugarcoat his words, he does not try to make his tone less harsh, “I don't have time for dates, such a waste of time.'' He says it like it is, he says it like it's true.
Your eyebrows creased, annoyed at his flippant attitude, “What do you mean waste of time?”
Veritas takes one glance at you, then back to his nonsense book. To him, it was useless wasting his breath on arguing with you.
“Veritas, you said we'll go, you promised.”
He is cruel, his words flinty. “I do not recall making any atrocious promises to you, are you perhaps going insane?”
Insane?
“Insane? Last week, you promised me.”
“I did not.”
“Yes you did.”
He scoffs, as if offended, “If I did, then I was not thinking straight. I have a thesis due tomorrow. A date can wait.”
Veritas is a man with priorities and out of all of them, it seems, you were not one of them. He'd rather his books kept him company, not you. It's obvious, his pursuit of knowledge was greater than loving you.
He lit his lamp, taking his pen and highlighting some paragraphs, what was so important with them? You could not help but come closer, skimming through the contents, it was just some theory some genius society member wrote.
“You're miserable,” it might've accidentally slipped out, but it was true; he is, in fact, the most miserable of all men.
Veritas rolled his eyes, pushing his reading glasses and annotating whatever statement was written. The candle light flickered when his heavy breaths fanned over it, not paying mind to whatever you say.
Your patience was thinning, how long was he planning to play this damned game?
“Veritas.”
You call out once.
“Veritas!”
Again, in anger.
“Veritas”
The last time, desperately.
He does not respond, he does not care. Yet your voice was ringing in his ears in an unpleasant way, “Is this about the date?”
You were taken aback by his curt reply, it wasn't just about the date. “Is that all? Do you think that's the only reason?”
“Hypothetically speaking, yes.”
“Cut the bullshit, veritas.”
Veritas glares at you, as if making a statement; a bullshit one at that. He does not have time for mindless topics, he's overworked, he's tired, he's unsatisfied.
For a moment, you have the urge to yell at him. This shallow bastard has done nothing but fool you with aureate words, he writes poetry about you and shows you off.
He loves you because you are all he has. He may be an asshole but he loves you the way he knows how to love you.
Tonight, however, you are done with his bullshit. You do not argue further, he is confused. When you leave this room with no more qualms, when you do not scream at him, he is bewildered.
“Where are you going?” It's strange that he noticed you for the first time. Only when you get dressed up and when he hears the keys jingle, does he notice every single detail.
You adjusted the cuffs of your blouser, “I'm staying at a friend's”
“Which one?”
“None of your business.”
Stunned, he drops his pen. Why are you acting so off? You're driving him insane.
“What do you mean none of my business? Stop acting so childish.”
That was your last straw, childish? Childish? The fucking audacity.
“You are more childish.”
“How so?”
“You— do I even have to explain it?”
Nothing could quell your frustration other than being away from him for the meantime, “Yes,” he loves you, he wants to know. But even if he does, he never learns; so much for a genius.
“You neglect me, you prioritise this,” it was tempting to crumple his papers, “—over me.” So you did.
He is indifferent. He does not understand how and why it hurts you. So he tries to understand it from a logical standpoint, “So you want to really go on that date?”
“I'm tired of asking”
Tired of begging him to treat you right, to love you like you want him to love you.
He stays quiet.
“I'm tired of begging for something so small.”
“You didn't have to destroy my goddamn book,” he seethed and pulled the book from your hands, too absorbed in the damage of the book he does not notice how much he has damaged you. Veritas is too blind to see you holding back tears despite wearing his glasses.
The force surprised you, “Is that thing much more important?”
“What?”
“Answer me Veritas Ratio.”
It was merely just a book, but it was precious. It was a rare one, it annoyed him to immeasurable depths when you crumpled it so recklessly.
He does not answer.
“I'm leaving,” he's not sure if leaving meant temporarily, he hopes it is. He hopes you come back again tomorrow night.
So he waits. Tomorrow came, but you did not come home.
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Aventurine
He loves you, he really does.
His idea of love is adorning you with jewels, showering you with riches.
Too much that you suffocate, it hurts. You can't breathe, soulless eyes stare into yours.
It's when you realise, he's trapping you. Does he think you're stupid? What does he take you for?
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“Darling! I got you a gift!”
The 22nd one this week… Aventurine makes haste and runs behind you, wearing the necklace on you, it looks… okay.
You look like a doll, his doll.
But you are not a doll, you are human.
And like all humans, we all wish to be loved and cherished as an equal.
“Do you like it?” It would be rude to say no, but it does not fit you. Sure it accentuates your neck, but it's too much.
“I…” you traced your finger over the gem, “I do.”
“Great! I'll get you another tomorrow!” It is tiring. As much as planets worth of gold and extravagant jewels excite you, you would rather be in his presence.
You do not recall the last day he's ever taken you out on a proper date, you do not recall any time where he's been open to you about his past because you know damn well his name could never just be ‘Aventurine’.
You were sitting on the couch, sipping tea with your eyes glued to your book. Before you knew it, soft lips grazed on your cheek.
“You're back earlier than expected,” he smiles as he pressed another kiss onto you, “I ditched the meeting, for you.”
Oh how you hate it when he does things in your name just to make you indebted to him. Aventurine loves you, but love is transactional.
“Is that so?” He nods, wrapping his arms around you. “I'll buy you something again, we have another business trip in Penacony.”
It makes you wonder, does he think gifts are the only thing that'll make you stay?
He could see the reluctance in your eyes, “Is something on your mind?”
You bit your lip, “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
A deafening silence fills the room before he chuckles, he is everything but stupid. He knows, he knows you want to spend time with him, he knows you’d incinerate those gifts in a heartbeat just to trade even an hour spending time with him.
“Dear, I promise, next time,” he pressed light kisses on your exposed shoulder, but it isn’t enough: what truly is enough?
You want to push him away, with how ruthless he is with making empty promises so easily, “You said ‘next time’ last time.”
”I promise, I do.” Even he sounds unsure. You pick up on the hint of hesitation laced in his promises, he regrets it, but he thinks; he’s doing it for you, for the both of you.
“You said that too last month,” you scoff.
He tried to intertwine your fingers together yet to no avail, you rejected him, “Why are you acting up again?”
There’s only so many gifts can buy but he can never purchase the time lost that could’ve been spent in lazy mornings together yet he traded it all for credits. The second attempt, he forces a smile and even pulls a tiny ring for you, that gem you loved so much engraved in the centre. Words cannot express how much you despise these gifts because it was just a pathetic compensation for the neglect.
”Please, next month.” He took your hand in his and put the ring on your ring finger. “Okay?”
You cling to that possibility, to that sliver of hope when he is done with Penacony, he is relieved of his duties and he is finally free. That he no longer has to overcompensate for his absence and shower you with the time he’s lost.
You know next month won’t come, yet you are no different from a fool.
”Okay”
You wait upon endless tomorrows, two months have passed and none of his coworkers have any good news about his well-being. They’re sure he’s dead, but you still wait for that tomorrow where he is home to come.
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Sunday
Love, what truly is love?
Is it when you praise your lover with endless ‘I love you’s?
Is it when you hold their hand and protect them for the impending doom to come?
or rather, is love just a fallacy built on a string of lies?
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Sunday believes that he knows what’s best for you.
Before Sunday, you were allowed to make your own decisions.
Before Sunday, you actually had freedom.
The halovian swears he knows what’s best for you.
He makes sure everything you want or need, you get.
Sunday will kiss your tears away, even if he is the sole reason for them. ”It’s for your own good.” he says.
To strip you of freedom, to shackle you to him like a bird in a cage. His sweet kisses, his love, his everything; they’re all fucking poison. He does not hesitate to drown you in his poison if it means protecting you.
You cry out, “Sunday.” In desperate pleas.
But he will not listen, he’ll pretend he doesn’t hear anything.
He believes that if he gives you the taste of freedom, you’ll find a way to fly away from his grasp– he will not allow it. So he does what he’s best at, keeping you stuck to him.
”What do you want, dear?” He smiles at you like he’s never sinned.
You throw away the pathetic gifts he adorned you with, gold, diamonds and stones you could not name but they are not what you want, “I want to see my friends.”
”They’re no good, trust me.” Your friends once told you that you should go, that he’s toxic, but you were a fool to drown in him.
“What do you know about my friends?” He’s done everything to kill that flame inside of you, that hope that maybe one day you’d escape him and be free once again, you’re a fool, he thinks.
He clicks his tongue as he puts down his newspaper at the coffee table, ”They tried to take you away from me.”
”They did not, you know I would never leave you.” A blatant lie but it's stupid that you take him for a fool that’ll believe your words.
He only chuckles, your attempts to get away from him are futile, it’s pathetic it makes him laugh. “I admire your confidence, but you’re staying here tonight.”
Death has never been more alluring under his influence, but you can not die.
“Please,” you beg again, but he only presses his finger to your lips, “Shh…”
”One day you’ll thank me for taking such good care of you.” He gets down on his knees to kiss the back of your hand, “You’re safe here.”
He gets up to sit right next to you, he doesn’t flinch when you slap his face away when he tries to kiss you. The man only grabs your wrist when you try to push him away again. He kisses you with passion, in love but is it truly love when there is no trust?
There’s no use questioning his intentions, “This is for your own good.”
What good is there when there is no freedom? He thinks beautiful birds should be protected. Even if it meant being trapped in a cage, stripped of any sense of freedom, as long as you're safe, as long as you're here with him, he is content. "Dont give me that look."
Your eyes train on the way he rolls his eyes at your defiance, "Just let me go."
Sunday glares at you, his grip on your wrist tight, you're sure he's about to tear it off. "No."
When will you stop acting like a child?
The halovian is too far down the rabbit hole of self righteousness and his obsession with you that he if he needs to tear you limb by limb to keep you close to him, to keep you from rubbing away, he will do it.
His phone rings, it must be business calls again, Penacony sure is in a state of chaos when it's crumbling down. He lets go off you to take his phone.
"Yes yes... Sunday speaking."
You dont understand what they're murmuring about. All you could register is it's something about his sister.
His facial expression turned grim the more time he spent on the phone. The phone call ends and he puts it down, the life from his face drained but when he sees you, he is relieved.
You are still here with him.
He intertwined your hands together, you can feel anger and despair that he's exuding as he stares at you like a deer in the headlights. "Please, promise me."
"You'll never leave me too."
It doesn't sound like a question, it sounds like a statement.
You'll truly never know what freedom is, for that is only a privilege that you can never have. In his arms you cannot cry, because he'll drown you in his lies again and again.
On the bright side, you are never alone. You will always have Sunday, whether you like it or not.
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Note: bye i got extreme writer's block at Sunday's part I had to take almost a 2 week break bc i rlly have no idea what to write for him oh my god. I absolutely did not give them justice 😥
Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡ 
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star-suh · 3 days
Text
Motivation
Kim Doyoung x Male Reader
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cw: college au, top doyoung, bratty-ish reader, public sex, breeding, spanking, choking, sweet guy being rough in bed trope, rimjob, fingering, restraints, exhibitionism(?), degradation, hole slapping, feminization.
“so which one of you is going to participate in the college annual event?” doyoung asked in front of the whole class, some of them raised their hands. “nice, now we're gonna take some data from you all and that's all”, seeing as how yn was just standing there and doing nothing doyoung touched him with his elbow telling yn to go write the data they needed.
“why have you been so lazy lately yn?”, doyoung asked “you're being a pain in my ass, do your job properly please”, yn smirked one of his eyebrows arched “am i mr. perfect president?”. one thing about yn is that he always likes to provoke doyoung, there's something so sexy about him being mad. “don't start now please, i know what you're thinking, i can see right through that pervy skull of you” he said tapping his index finger on yn's forehead, “you know you want it too” yn whispers grazing his hand on doyoung's bulge.
“you're like a bitch in heat yn” doyoung was riled up, the veins being visible in his forehead.
doyoung slammed himself inside yn, going in and out of that tight hole, the bottom's moans being muffled with doyoung's tie. he always knew that when yn started to act like a brat, like not doing his job properly, is because he wants something, that something being his dick. since the first time they fucked yn got hooked to the other's charms specially the way he looks like a sweet caring guy but it's a complete beast in the bed.
doyoung pulled the tie gagging yn, that was wrapped around his head, and use it to thrust even harder not caring about others hearing the loud skin slapping sound “do you like this? being treated like the dirty slut you are” he said between thrusts and spanks.
“next time have some shame and wait till we are out of college.. or maybe that's what you want, that everyone finds out who's the one pounding and creaming this used pussy”.
yn shook his head in a no motion, his red-tinted face covered in sweat, tears and some drool.
doyoung pulls out and then stares at the other's hole appreciating his work “look at this gaping pussy” he spits on it and starts fingering at a fast pace, filthy wet sounds along with yn's pleas filling the classroom.
after some minutes he stops and starts eating him out, his tongue circling around the tight ring of muscles and then going in and out. yn rolled back his eyes, as always doyoung knew how to pleasure him and send him into cloud 9.
doyoung buried himself deep on yn's ass wanting to go as deep as he can with his tongue, yn tasted so good that he wanted more, he was becoming obsessed with it.
“can't wait to fill this pussy up” doyoung stands up with the surroundings of his mouth soaked in saliva and the juices of the bottom's ass, “ready for round two?” he starts to slap the hole “...right you can't talk” he smirk lowering the tie to yn's neck. “you fucking beast.. give me some rest” the other speaks; “you knew who you were fucking with, don't start to cry now” yn looks at him with lusty eyes and a smile “you're unbelivabl-” he couldn't finish his sentence because doyoung started to pound him again.
yn was in a doggy style position in the teacher's desk with doyoung pulling the tie around his neck forcing the bottom to take all his dick.
having sex with doyoung was like a drug for him, the way his cock hits the right spots giving him a feeling of ecstasy that yn has become addicted to at this point, "fuck me harder doyoung, destroy me, make me your fucking toy" the boy exclaimed with a smile, "i’m just a hole for you”...
time passed and doyoung kept railing that hole until his balls were completely dry, all his loads were either smeared deep inside yn or dripping down his hole and the top's shaft. “you milked me dry this time” he sighed “you really behave like a bitch in heat today, that pussy was desperately asking for cock... when was the last time you had sex?", he asked.
“the last time we fucked" answered a yn, his voice a bit hoarse for all the moaning.
“you mean i’m the only one you're fucking?"
"yes, you're the only one who knows how to fuck me real good" yn tells him as he starts to get dressed, "plus it's a good motivator to do my job properly and help you with the class presidency”, he zips up his pants and put on his shoes, “i hope i can have this motivation every day" the bottom says cockily grabbing doyoung by the cheeks with one hand making him poute, giving him a kiss "see you tomorrow dear school president”.
doyoung was stunned, touching his lips while watching how yn leaves the room, "cocky slut" he mutters with a smile on his lips.
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hllywdwhre · 3 days
Text
My Darling Boy
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Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Irish!fem!reader
Summary: Tommy’s late night leads to you comforting him and a recount of the first time you realized you loved him.
Warnings: Panic attacks, reader faces anti-Irish sentiment from a stranger, Tommy says some questionable things about the Irish but nothing too bad💀, violence, bar fight. Let me know if I missed any!
Word Count: 2.8K
Notes: This was 100% inspired by @red-write-hand ‘s Tommy bot. My god do I love that thing and fluff it gives me. I tried keeping this as reader friendly as possible, but some details had to be added to fit the plot, such as reader being Irish.
Edit: This has not been proofread and YIKES. Sorry for all the errors😭
Flashbacks are italicized!
You stared at the clock on your wall that read 2:07 AM. Tommy was supposed to be in bed three hours ago. It was your agreement. He could work as late as he wanted as long as he ate all three meals with you and came to bed at 11. The resolve had come almost a year ago when you’d finally told him you, his wife, felt like second place to his work.
But here it was. 2AM, your bed felt cold without him there, and this was the third time this week that he hadn’t come to bed on time.
You tried not to argue with him. He had enough stress with work and you didn’t want to be a source of more stress, but you had his same quick temper and you couldn’t deny that you were more than irritated that he was seemingly back to his old ways of ignoring your agreement.
You made your way down the hall and to his office, leaning against the door frame.
Tommy spoke before you could, “I know what you’re about to say.”
The exhaustion in his voice and the way he looked… defeated immediately caused a change of heart in you, though.
“My darling boy,” you said in a soft voice, making sure to use the pet name you had for him to try and avoid him thinking you were there for an argument.
“Don’t ‘my darling boy’ me,” he replied immediately with a bite in his tone, “Not when you’re here to start an argument with me. What time is it?”
You’d known Tommy since he came back from The Great War. You knew more than well enough by now to not take his words to heart when he was like this. He was taking his anger out on you, whether you deserved it or not.
You had blinded men and taken their tongues using the bladed Peaky Blinders cap for speaking to you the way Tommy was speaking to you, but Tommy was your soft spot. Somehow, you always remained calm when it came to Tommy.
You made your way over to his desk and picked up the empty whiskey glass that was next to a stack of papers that littered his desk.
“It’s 2 in the morning, my love,” you replied in a calm voice. You walked over to the fireplace where his bottle of whiskey sat and refilled the glass then placed it on the desk again.
He picked it up as soon as you set it down and took a long drink from it.
“I have work, you know that. The business doesn’t run itself.” He took another swallow of the liquid and you could see the way his breathing had picked up slightly.
It started to make sense in that moment. You knew Tommy as well as he knew you and as well as you knew yourself. You knew the signs of one of his panic attacks beginning and stepped between him and his desk.
“I know that. I’m not mad at you, darling,” you replied after a moment. You made sure to keep your voice the steady and calm tone you knew he needed at the moment as you spoke. “Can you look at me?”
Tommy took a deep breath before looking up at you and you could see the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead along with the way his eyes seemed unable to focus on you. You lifted your hand to his cheek and gently ran your thumb across it in a slow motion.
“What’s your full name?” You asked him. The questions you would ask him changed from time-to-time so he wouldn’t get too used to them. They were simple questions, enough to distract him and get him to focus on you, but not enough to send him into a further panic.
“Thomas Michael Shelby, why?” He raised the glass to his lips again, but his breathing only picked up more.
You took the glass from his hand and set it on the desk behind you then placed his hand on your chest, right where you knew he would be able to feel your heartbeat.
“Focus on my breathing and my voice. What’s John’s wife’s name?” You asked him next.
You watched as he closed his eyes and did as you said, trying to match his breathing to yours as you began taking slower and deeper breaths.
“Esme,” he answered after a moment.
“When’s our wedding anniversary?” You asked next.
”The 17th of August.”
You knew it was silly, but you couldn’t help the blush that rose to your cheeks at how quickly and easily he answered that question. It was the little things like that which reminded you that you were still his number one priority.
“Can you look at me again?” You asked him once you noticed his breathing had calmed down.
Tommy looked to you, his blue eyes immediately finding your eyes and locking onto them. The corner of his mouth tilted into a small smirk and you returned it with a small smile of your own.
“I love you,” you told him as you crawled into his lap and pulled him into a hug, trying to help ground him more.
He immediately returned your hug and buried his head into your neck. Your hands instinctively rose to the back of his head and gently ran your nails across the shaved part of it.
“I love you, too. Even when I’m a mess,” he replied quietly.
“You’re not a mess,” you argued immediately, “you’re my amazing husband, an amazing business leader, an amazing member of parliament, and the strongest person I’ve ever met.”
A sigh left his lips after a long moment and his head remained buried in your neck. His breathing was no longer panicked and he had relaxed into your hold completely.
“I don’t deserve you,” he muttered into your neck.
“Funny,” you said with a chuckle, “I think the same thing of me.” You moved your head enough so you could kiss his temple. “Love you with all my heart, Thomas Shelby. You’re my darling boy.”
As soon as the pet name left your lips, he was chuckling into your neck. It was one anyone else would be maimed for calling him, but somehow you saying it had won him over.
“Love you, too,” he murmured in response.
After a couple long minutes of the two of you curled into each other, and once you were sure he wouldn’t panic speaking of it, you asked him,
“What led to it?”
He immediately knew what you were asking and shook his head in your neck,
“Nothing,” he replied in a defeated voice.
You pulled back enough to cause him to raise his head and she the quirked brow you were giving him,
“Thomas Shelby, what do you tell me every time I try to say the same thing?”
Any time you tried to belittle your problems, Tommy was the one who was telling you that if it was causing you troubles, then it wasn’t nothing and it was worth talking about.
He grumbled something under his breath about using his own words against him and then finally answered.
“The bloody Irish,” he said loud enough for you to hear.
You couldn’t stop the giggle that left your lips. You knew Tommy knew better than to think she was laughing at him or her problems; you were simply laughing at the irony of it all.
“What have my people done now?” You asked, purposefully making your accent come out as thick as possible to pick on him.
“Made an illegal shipment without our say so,” Tommy replied and you could hear the smile in his voice.
“Well… we’ve never liked to obey the English. I think my ancestors are rolling in their graves at how soft I am with you,” you teased, hoping to get at least a chuckle out of him.
It worked and you could feel the way his body shook the slightest bit as the small laugh left him,
“You’re not soft, darling, you’re just civilized,” he teased in return.
You pulled away with a look of mock offense on your face,
“Hey, now! My people are very civilized, we just know how to have fun,” you told him.
You know Tommy held no actual disdain towards you or your Irish blood. He himself was part Irish. He only spoke this way around you to get under your skin and pick on you.
“If you call bar fights being civilized then sure, darling.” The smirk on his face told you he was still only teasing you.
You scrunched up your nose as you looked at him,
“Maybe not your strongest point, love. I’ve come home with a black eye from an English bar fight where, for once, I was genuinely an innocent bystander and I had to keep you from going after half of Small Heath,” you pointed out.
Tommy’s face immediately darkened at the memory of that night and he tried to stutter out some defense of how it was different, but you shook your head no.
“You know that was the night I realized I loved you?” You told him as your own version of the memories flitted through your mind and you tried to distract him from the darker thoughts of his mind.
Your words seemed to catch him off guard and he looked up at you with surprise written on his features.
“Really?” He asked, unsure how else to reply.
You nodded in response and you felt another deep blush creep onto your cheeks. One thing you and Tommy had in common was that vulnerability didn’t come natural to you.
“Would you care to know how I remember that night?” You asked to which he nodded. “It was after a day of shopping with Ada and Esme. You and I had been together for three months at that point, and Ada and Esme were sure we were going to end up getting married, so they wanted to make sure I knew I was part of the family.”
You knew he knew all of this, but you wanted to tell him the whole story of how you had come to the realization and what had happened leading up to the fight.
”After we were done shopping, Esme had John meet us up at The Garrison so we could all have a drink.”
The three of you stumbled through the doors of the pub, giggling over something Ada had said.
John motioned the three of you over to the table he was sitting at, already having ordered a round of drinks for you. It was the first time you had sat outside of the private room the Shelbys had, and the last.
In the middle of the three of you telling John about the new dress Ada had bought, someone who’d had one too many drinks came stumbling over.
“I don’t get you Shelbys. You serve your country in the war then associate with some Irish scum,” he spat out, motioning from John to you.
You had met the other Shelbys while Arthur, Tommy, and John were in France. Polly had needed a bookkeeper for the betting shop and had taken you, even vouching for you when they had returned. After a year of working with them, one incident where you had been used as bait that had gone too far, and you’d been forced to defend yourself, Tommy had decided to make you an official Peaky Blinder. You may not wear your Peaky cap, but the bladed item was also on you. Offers had been made to hide blades in other women’s items of clothing, but you had denied. You had learned how to hide the cap among scarves, shawls, or in your bags and you wanted the official Peaky Blinders symbol.
John had immediately jumped to your defense that night in The Garrison.
“She’s a damn Peaky Blinder and has been for years! She can be trusted as well as any Englishman or woman.” He had defended, standing up to meet the man eye-to-eye as a warning to leave.
“Do you know who you’re talking about?” Ada said next, standing up also, “Irish or not, she’s Tommy’s girl and a Blinder.”
“I don’t give a shit if she’s Tommy’s current whore or not. She’s Irish scum and I don’t want to be in a pub with the likes of her,” the man spat back at Ada.
Esme and you both stood up at this and the rest of the pub had silenced as they watched the scene unfold. Seemingly out of thin air, a couple other Blinders that were present came to stand beside John as he told the man to leave the pub while he could still see the door.
Next thing you knew, Esme had pulled you harshly out of the way as a glass shattered against the wall behind you.
Chaos broke out immediately. Despite you trying to fight against them, a couple patrons or other members of the Peaky Blinders (you weren’t sure which) had tried to drag you, Ada, and Esme back to the office. During the mix, a blow landed on your cheek and you quickly swung back.
The fight seemed to halt immediately after. Even if the guy was brave enough to harass you for being Irish, throw a glass at your head, and fight John over everything, everyone else seemed to realize the grave mistake that had been made in that moment.
No one touched Thomas Shelby’s woman, and there she was with a bruise already evident on her cheek.
John grabbed the guy by the scruff of the neck like he was nothing more than a rabid dog, called for you to follow him, and called for Esme and Ada to be walked back to the betting shop and for all the members of the Peaky Blinders present to go there, also.
You walked with John to the canal and were told by John that you ‘could do the honors of killing the bastard’ yourself.
After the deed was done, the two of you had walked back to the betting shop and arrived at the same time as Tommy.
You remembered the worry on his face as he looked for you, the anger that took over when he spotted the black eye, him screaming at everyone to give him an answer as to what had happened and who had harmed you, and the way he had pulled you into his arms in a hug that nearly crushed you.
You remembered the feeling of safety that washed over you once you were in his arms, the feeling of home, and the way you were able to ignore the chaos around you as others explained what exactly had happened that night.
You remembered the way he wouldn’t let anyone else touch you until he had personally looked you over for any injuries.
You remembered the look he had when you told him you’d killed the man. The disappointment over not being the one to do it himself, but the pride in you standing up for yourself.
“I remember being absolutely terrified when it finally clicked in my head what I was feeling. I have never feared you, but I was terrified of ever getting my heart broken again. I knew Esme and Ada had said they were sure we would be married, but my own insecurities came into play, and I was terrified you’d realize how much of a mess I could be and you’d leave me,” you told him, leaned in and kissing him softly for a moment before continuing on, “You never left me. Even when we’ve fought, you never let me feel like you were going to leave me. I learned that no matter what happened, you’d move the earth, heavens, and hells to make sure you always came back to me.”
Tommy remained silent as you finished your story. He opened his mouth several times to speak, but it seemed you had actually managed to make the man speechless.
“I love you, Thomas Michael Shelby,” you muttered as you leaned in to kiss him again, “I meant it the first time I said those words, when I accepted your proposal, when we said them at the altar, when I say them now, and every time in between. You’re my darling boy through it all.”
His hand came up to cup your face and he rested his forehead against yours, “I’ve meant them all, too. You’re mine until the end of time.”
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lyvhie · 2 days
Note
do you write for chenle? if so could i request angry sex with chenle? and plotwise/anything else can be up to you, you always make such creative works 😍
desert island | zcl
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boyfriend!chenle x fem!reader (18+ mdni)
summary: a stupid little game seems to be enough to make you speak with recklessness and throw reason out of the window in the heat of the moment. but since you were unwilling to be so easily placated, chenle was decided to talk some sense into you.
a/n: sorry for being so late, anon 😭! ofc i write for chenle, how could i not?! thank you for the kind words, i hope you like it!! 😚
cw: smut, use of 'whore' (only once), hair pulling, slighty spanking, begging, reader is DRAMATIC, chenle is kinda mean, petnames.
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honestly, you can't think of a better partner than chenle. he's always so sweet, caring, and considerate, and you could talk for days about every single thing you love about him because you really love him a lot.
the same applies to chenle, who thinks you're so perfect for him. every time he wakes up and looks at you beside him in bed, he can't help but think how lucky he is to have someone like you by his side.
arguments in your relationship were rare, but not non-existent. like any kind of relationship between two people, disagreements occasionally arose.
you generally handle them with a mature conversation about the issue once the dust has settled, addressing the problem and coming to a mutually-agreed solution. however, sometimes, you both seem to be unable to agree on a resolution to the problem at hand. that was the case now.
it was a real stupid argument. you were released from work early and figured it would be a good idea to stop by the studio to see chenle and head home with him. as it turns out, it was a surprise when you showed up without prior warning, but he was happy to see you and it made your visit all the more meaningful.
during chenle's break time, the dreamies were engaged in a light and silly conversation about "who would you take to a deserted island." it was an innocent little game to pass the time and have some fun. when it was chenle's turn to answer, he surprised you by not choosing you, but one of his staff’s. this simple and seemingly harmless choice was the root of your trivial fight.
you didn't react immediately, simply laughed it off as if it was nothing but chenle could tell that something was off the moment you both got into the car. the car ride was unusually silent on your end, and chenle began to brace himself as he realized you were upset about something. he mentally prepared himself for whatever he felt was about to come as you walked through the front door.
"so..." he began in a gentle but careful tone, sensing there was an underlying issue you weren't being open about.
"nothing," you casually responded with a shrug, walking off and towards the bedroom. "it's nothing," you repeated again, but he wasn't fooled by your tone.
following close behind you, he asked another question, "is it me? did i do something to upset you?" he raised his eyebrows at you expectantly, wanting to get to the bottom of the problem.
"no" was all the response you gave him, short and sharp just like before. as you continued into the bedroom and began to tidy up the already clean room, he leaned casually against the doorframe and observed you closely. he didn't say a word because he knew he would just have to wait until the "you know what's funny?" and there it was, your signature phrase for when you're in a bad mood, spoken in a slightly annoyed tone. he knew this would be coming.
"no," he said calmly and crossed his arms, looking directly at you and watching you make some futile attempts to find anything out of place in the already immaculate room. "please, enlighten me," his gaze intent as he awaited the inevitable moment of venting that always ensued after that phrase.
"of course you wouldn't," you replied back, feigning innocent ignorance and even rolling your eyes as you dramatically shook your head and sighed. "i didn't expect you to have kept a list of all the female entertainers you would consider taking to a desert island. so why don't you enlighten me on your priorities?”
for a moment, chenle's eyebrows were raised in a mix of confusion and slight surprise as he heard your words, genuinely believing that you were joking or being sarcastic. then came his soft laugh, as he was almost incredulous that you kept up this attitude with your arms crossed and a serious expression. "baby," he spoke gently but firm as a warning, "you can't be serious right now. it was an innocent little game that you shouldn't take so seriously.”
"oh really?” your words laced with mockery. “an innocent little game? then it shouldn't bother you to explain to me why i wasn't even on your radar. it was a stupid game but your answers just proved to me that i'm an afterthought, even in your fantasies. at least in your fantasy of the women you'd be willing to take to a godforsaken place with no hope for escape. so am i so insignificant that i didn't even make the cut for you?”
chenle pauses for a second to process the situation and your words, running his hand through his hair in an almost unconscious gesture of self-soothing. if he didn't know you better, he would've thought you were crazy, but after that incident with the stupid "worm" question, he knows that you're just dramatic.
he approaches you, cupping your face in his warm hands as he gazes at you.
"baby, please," he pleads, the affection evident in his voice as he tries to reason with you. "look at me," he says softly, using his palms to gently guide your eyes to focus on him. once your eyes meet, the intensity of his gaze deepens as his expression softens and his voice grows more gentle. "this was just an innocent game and you're blowing it out of proportion. please don't be like this. i love you and you know it. there's no other woman that compares to the love i have for you, not in a thousand lifetimes would i ever take anyone else over you. you're mine and always will be.”
even though you could sense the sincerity and love behind his words, you maintained a guarded demeanor, refusing to give in to it until you were completely satisfied with his explanation.
you know, you had a sharp tongue and an even sharper intelligence than some could imagine when you chose to use it. unfortunately, this was a time where the first worked, but the second didn't.
“well, it seems that you just have to be on a desert island to fool around with someone else, right? you just want to enjoy some fun and pleasure while away from the world,” your tone became sarcastic as you continued challenging his words and reasoning. “so who are you going to enjoy it with?”
your thoughtless words brought you to this moment. one of chenle's hands was intertwined between the strands of your hair in a tight grip, pushing your head against the softness of the mattress, forcing you to stay with you ass up. your eyes slightly red, your face puffy and wet, both from sweat and crying.
“fucking. stubborn. whore,” he spit out, each of his words was accompanied by sharp thrusts that made your bones shake and you gasp, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. “can't listen to what i say for not even a damn minute,” he slapped your ass hard, making you whine and your eyes water again.
you lost track of time during this torment. it felt like torturous hours, where he kept teasing, edging you, not even letting you touch him, your ass was already marked by his hands, you felt the sting of each spank he gave, saying that brats like you don't deserve to feel good.
chenle knows you with the palm of his hands, he knows what you like, what makes you melt and he would definitely use it against you. his slow but powerful thrusts hit all the right spots that make you see stars behind your eyelids, his hand slipping between your legs to rub your clit in equally slow circles.
“…. ase…” your tiny, teary voice echoed through his ears. “oh?” he scoffs, pulling you by your hair until you were close enough for him to whisper in your ear. “i can't hear you, say it again,” his warm tongue sliding through your neck, sending you goosebumps.
“p-please…” you raised your tone slightly. “i'm so, so sorry, chenle,” the desperation and pleading in your voice is obvious, as is the remorse that you felt for your actions. “please, please, let me cum, please, just once, please,” the need seeping through every word, begging for relief and satisfaction.
a smug grin crept up his face when he heard your desperate tone. he loved how hopeless you sounded. he loosened his grip on your hair, pulling you into a kiss as he stopped his thrusts to savor the moment. his hand moved away from your clit to held your cheek as his tongue invaded your mouth, completely taking over the kiss.
your emotional state was so volatile right now that you honestly felt like crying. chenle knew that you loved kissing him, and by constantly pushing you away, he knew it was torturing you. your attempts at kissing him were met with a painful slap to your cunt, almost as punishment for trying to force yourself on him.
this simple yet deeply cherished kiss was enough to make you melt completely. you were yearning to feel this level of affection again after he kept pushing you away from him, it was all you were craving since he pushed you down onto the bed and shoved his cock inside your pussy.
as he pulled away from your lips, leaving you desperate for more, he let out a short, breath laugh at your reaction. he found it amusing how you chased after him to continue the kiss, but he was quick to remind you who was in control here by just pulling on your hair to keep you in place, making you whine pathetically.
"well," he purred against your ear, moving his hand caressingly over your body. he made lazy circles on your soft skin, lingering on your belly, you suddenly felt him be a lot more gentle. "since you asked so nicely, should i give you what you want, baby?" he raised an eyebrow teasingly as he waited for a response from you and all you could do was nod fiercely, letting small pleas of "yes, please" roll off your tongue as you awaited his move.
chenle hummed, feigning deep thought as he observed your face. He worked hard to maintain his composure and keep from showing his mischievous, devilish smile as he saw the light of hope that your expression lit up. "okay," he said finally, "i think you seemed remorseful enough,” his words were enough to bring a jolt of excitement to your system, you felt a rush of adrenaline course through your veins and every single muscle in your body tensed up, waiting intently for him to give you what you wanted.
with a light kiss on your lips, he turned you over and positioned you so you were laying on your back. hands that had recently been mistreating you were now caressing your body delicately, as if you were the most delicate thing ever made. his kisses traced your jawline before moving to your neck and breasts, making you think that the wait had been worth it. the punishment had ended here and he made you believe that the only thing you deserved now was his gentle touch and loving kisses.
he straightened his back, the movement causing his hands to move from your sides to the back of your thighs. in one swift motion, he lifted your legs and pressed your knees against your chest, and the sharp sob that escaped your lips was all the confirmation he needed that he has you right where he wanted you.
you felt his tip teasing your clit and your entrance, your pussy glistening from how wet you already were, his hard cock sliding inside you without any difficulty, your warm, gummy walls welcoming him as he filled any remaining space in your pussy.
“you feel so good, don't you?” his eyes fluttered shut in pleasure, and a low grunt slipped past his lips as he threw his head back slightly in a gesture of complete relaxation. he would never tire of this feeling that was almost overwhelming at this point. this applied to you as well, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as you moaned softly, feeling just how deep inside of you he was.
“you feel so damn good,” he whispered in a low, husky tone as he begins to thrust into you relentlessly, his tip kissing your cervix every time his hips slammed back into you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the feeling.
he increased the pace, leaning closer towards you. the full weight of his body was now pressing onto you, keeping you down and pinned to the bed but there's no resistance from you as you are simply overwhelmed by his size and intensity.
he had been playing with you for such a long time that it didn't take very much effort at all to push you over the edge. your moaning and whimpering got louder, your body tense and your breathing more shallow. your voice was coming out in a pitch that was nearly unrecognizable, with a few "thank you's" and some other incoherent words escaping your lips, your pussy clenching around him—he recognized this as the ultimate sign that you were approaching your orgasm.
“are you close, baby?” he asked even though he already knew the answer. “y-ye—” you were interrupted again by another hard thrust that made you let out a soft yelp. he grunted as he felt your muscles clenching around him once more, gripping him tightly. “c-chenle,” you mewled his name, “i-i’m gonna c-cu—”
before you could finish your sentence, he was quick to pull out of you, releasing the grip on your legs, making you let out a soft whine in disbelief when he pulled out without letting you finish, and all you could do was lie there as a deep emptiness washed over your body, your walls now clenching around nothing. you look at him with wide, teary eyes and trembling lips.
chenle’s grin widens when he watched your expression, a look of disappointment on your face as you realized you didn't get to cum as he made you think. he was satisfied in the knowledge that he had denied you the satisfaction you wanted and was pleased with how desperate and frustrated you were looking at him.
"aww, is my baby about cry? " he mocked you, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he reached out to wipe away the tear-filled eyes that now betrayed you. his hand lightly traced the curve of your face, moving slowly and tauntingly, as if he was enjoying your helpless reaction far too much. “that’s what you get for acting like a spoiled little brat,” his voice filled with condescension as watched how your emotional state seemed to sink lower and lower as a result of his words.
"you thought i would just let you have it your way?” he scoffed and shook his head at your naivety. "i thought you would know better by now, baby," his voice taking on a false empathetic edge as he leaned in closer. his voice became softer, his lips pressing lovingly against yours for a quick peek. "aww, no, no, don't cry," he echoed the soothing words with another kiss, teasingly brushing away the tears with his finger. "if you beg good enough, i might give you what you want."
179 notes · View notes
iluvmattsbeard · 19 hours
Text
2 on (c.s)
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master list
chris sturniolo x reader
warnings: smut/smoking/swearing
preview: you’ve been stressing out about everything lately. you and your best friend Chris decided to hang out. he has an idea to help you with your stress. later on, you wake up to see videos and photos on your phone from the night before leaving you flustered.
a/n: LIKES, COMMENTS, AND REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED! was obsessed with this song in middle school with no idea wtf it was talking about. now, i want to feel like this song all the time 💀 i wrote this because i saw someone on here say they would want to have high sex with Chris so i took it into my own hands to write the fantasy out. - L 🤍
it was a Saturday night as you laid there in bed scratching your head in frustration. you were currently in college, your work has been piling up having you stressed. you stare at your computer with an irritated look as you look at the new assignments that have been added. “more?!” you groan. you shut your computer as you look at the ceiling and sigh, “how the fuck am i suppose to get through this?” you whisper to yourself. school was not your strong suit.
when you lay there in your thoughts, you hear your phone ring. you pick it up speaking, “hey Chris.” “hey Y/n. what you up to right now?” he says. you let out a sigh, “busy with assignments. these teachers are piling it on me.” you say. “oh so you’re busy right now?” he asks. you look at your closed computer as you sigh, “not really. i just had given up.” you hear him let out a soft chuckle, “well i wanted to hang out if you’re down.” he says.
“i could use a breather.” you say looking at the clock on your wall, “i could stop by for a bit. maybe i’ll make you do my work.” you say jokingly. “absolutely not Y/n.” he says making you laugh. “i was just joking. i’ll be there in a bit.” you say getting up from your bed. “alright i’ll see you.” he says before hanging up.
you throw on a jacket and some sweatpants before picking up your car keys and head over to Chris’ house. when you arrive, you get out your car and look at yourself in your car window. even if you were just hanging out, didn’t mean you couldn’t look cute. you then head over to his front door and ring the door bell. Chris opens the door immediately greeting you with a smile, “hey come in.” he says opening the door more to let you in. you walk in as he closes the door behind you.
you collapsed on the couch, laying your head back on the pillow as he sits on the couch across from you. “what’s wrong y/n?” he asks concerned, looking at you. you let out a sigh before speaking, “i don’t know if i can keep up with all the assignments. the only reason why i’m in college is because i want to make my parents proud. not because i want to in general.” his eyes stay on you, “well you need to give yourself breaks you know that right?” he says with a soft chuckle. you look up at him as you give a blank stare, “i don’t think i have time for that.” you say. he shrugs, “hey i mean you’re here now.” he says with a slight smile.
you roll your eyes before speaking, “yeah i’m here as my assignments are at home piled up. waiting for me to complete them.” he lets out a scoff with a smile, “well, you can’t just force to overwork yourself.” he says getting up. “where are you going?” you ask with curiosity. “to go get something.” he replies walking to the hallway. you sat there as you look at your hands. eventually, he comes back with a bag. “what’s that?” you say seeing him sit back down in front of him.
“something that’ll help you relax.” he says pulling out another bag that had chunks of weed in it. your eyes widen a bit staring at it, “since when do you smoke?” you ask. he smiles a bit at your question, “doesn’t matter.” he says opening the grinder that was on the table. he puts some pieces in it before shutting it and twisting it, making the pieces loose. “well i’m curious because why haven’t i noticed.” you ask with a laugh. “that scent is so strong.” he was focused on the grinder for a few minutes as he opens it, placing it on the table. you sit there as you watch him place the weed into some paper. he rolls it perfectly. you could tell he did this often. he looks at you with a smirk, “do you want me to help make the stress go away?” he asks.
you look into his eyes confused a bit. what do you mean he helps you? wouldn’t it be the weed helping? you thought. “uh i don’t know i’ve never done this before.” you say fixing your posture. “do you trust me?” he asks in a low tone. his eyes did not move from your as he plays with the joint in his hand. you gulp as you nod, “yes i trust you.” he grins as he places the joint in between his lips and lights it up. he inhales as he stands up and steps in front of you. he places a hand under your chin, lifting it to look up at him. your head was lined up with his crotch perfectly. you look up at him and stare at him. his hand held onto your jaw as his lips came inches closer from yours. you open your mouth slightly as he blows the smoke into your mouth.
he stays close to your lips as you inhale. he watches your face closely as you let out the smoke lightly. a grin appears from his mouth. you look into his eyes and at his lips. the scent that came from his mouth, caused by the weed, was intoxicating. he stands back up straight, still looking down at you before passing the joint to you. you take it as he goes and sits back down across from you, repeating the same actions again, making himself his own. you sat there taking hits as you let it cloud your mind. it really was helping everything ease. after he was done, he lights it up and starts doing the same as you. he sat there, leaned back, taking hits.
it was silent the whole time as you sat there in your now cleared mind. you felt your eyes start to get heavy. you tap your joint on the ash tray as you felt Chris’ eyes on you intensely. you look up at him as he’s leaned back with his eyes also heavy. it was extremely attractive. the way he licked his lips slightly as he kept eye contact. you felt a knot in your stomach. “is it helping?” he asks with a slight rasp in his low voice. “yeah it really is.” you say quietly. you felt yourself overheating. “are you okay?” he asks.
“y-yeah! i’m great.” you stutter out slightly. he lets out a soft laugh as he puts out his joint. you do the same before taking off your hoodie. mid way doing it, you forgot you had no shirt under. Chris stares at you with his heavy clouded eyes as his jaw clenches. “i forgot i didn’t have a shirt.” you say quietly. a sly smile appears from him as he speaks, “i don’t mind.” you look into his eyes again as you stared at him eagerly. “why don’t you come here?” he says with his arms out on each side of him, on the top of the couch, leaned back. you gulp as you stand up walking over to him. he sits up placing his hands on your hips as he pulls you down onto his lap.
he looks at your tits as they sat perfectly in your bra. he then gets closer to them as he leaves soft wet kisses on them. you felt your stomach have the same knot when he does so. “you’re so beautiful.” he lets out looking up at you as he continues kissing up from your tits to the side of your neck. your breathing started to get hitched as you shift slightly on top of him. his hands were rubbing the sides of your body as he then started to suck on your neck. your heavy eyes gave in shut as you threw your head back slightly, letting out a quiet moan. you felt him get hard beneath you.
he chuckles a bit in the crook of your neck, “you like that?” he says pulling away, looking at the marks he left on your skin. you weakly open your heavy eyes and look at him as you nod. “do you want me to help you more get rid of the stress?” you answer with no hesitation, “yes please Chris.” he smirks before carrying you, leading you into his room. he lays you on the bed as he hungrily attaches his lips back onto your chest as he trails down his kisses down to your lower stomach. he was taking his time admiring your body. he then tugs down your sweatpants, throwing them onto the floor. his kisses still trailed down your body as he starts to kiss in between your thighs. you looked down at him as you feel yourself start to get wet.
he then places a kiss on top of your clothed core as his eyes looked up at you. you bit your lip softly as you felt yourself flinch a bit from the action. he then moves his eyes back down to what he was doing as he pulls down your now soaked panties. you felt the cold air hit your aching core. he licks his lips looking at your plump cunt. he immediately shoves his face in between your legs as you gasp softly from the sudden action. “C-Chris.” you stutter out. you shut your eyes and tangled your hand in his hair. it’s like his tongue knew what to do so well.
he knew what parts would make you go crazy. he swirled his tongue on your clit as you grip onto his hair, pushing your hips up, burying his face more into you. you could feel his slight stubble on his face as he eats you out. “fuck Chris. your tongue feels so good.” you moan out. he smirks a bit as he pulls himself away. your pussy ached at the action.
you look at him with your clouded eyes as he does the same licking his lips. “sit up.” he demands. you do as he says as his eyes still admire your body. “take it off.” he says pointing at your bra. without breaking eye contact, you put your hands behind your back as you unclasp your bra, letting it fall off your chest. he grins as he takes in the sight from the slight bounce your tits made from being released. “you’re perfect.” he says taking off his shirt. you trail your eyes from his eyes, down to his body. he pulls down his sweats as he reveals a hard imprint in his boxers. you sit yourself on the edge of the bed as he gets his crotch closer to you in front of your face.
he grabs your phone as you look up at him. “i want to be able to capture this. maybe next time you’re stressed, you can look back at these.” he says looking down at you through the camera. you pull down his boxers as his dick springs up from being released. you gulp staring at the veiny cock. his tip was oozing pre cum as you licked your lips. he takes his cock into his hand, “stick your tongue out.” he demands. you do as he says as he slaps it lightly on your tongue, taking a picture. you see a slight smirk appear on his face as you suddenly push your mouth onto him. he groans at the sudden action as he watches as you sucked him off. he places his free hand on your cheek as he speaks, “you’re so pretty with my dick in your mouth.” your eyes were looking up into his as he continues to watch. you picked up the pace as you pushed him deeper down your throat. he wraps your hair around his hand as he grips it, suddenly thrusting in your mouth causing you to gag.
he takes a picture of you gagging on his dick as tears rolled down your cheeks. he moans lowly, “you take it so good.” after a bit, he eventually pulls you away from his cock as he lays you down. he automatically lines himself up in front of your entrance as he takes another photo. he then pushes into you slowly as he began to stretch you out. “oh fuck.” he lets out. he takes another picture as his cock is partially hidden inside your core. your folds hugged his length perfectly. he puts down your phone as he began to slam himself into you, spreading your legs apart. you scream from pleasure with your eyes shut.
“fuck y/n. you feel so good.” he moans with the same raspy voice. it only made you more turned on. he puts his hand down to your clit as he moved his thumb in a circular motion on it. you moan loudly, “y-yes Chris keep doing that.” “you like that huh? you aren’t thinking about anything else hm?” he says thrusting into you deeply. “n-no. only you.” you moan softly. he smirks continuously thrusting. you were kept moaning repeatedly as he hit your g spot constantly. you couldn’t take it anymore. you arch your back as you moan out, releasing all over his cock.
“that’s it baby. cum all over this dick.” he says as he grunts gripping onto your legs that were on his shoulders. you laid there as you watched him get closer to his high. he suddenly pulls out quickly as he shoots his warm liquid all over your stomach.
*time skip*
you start to wake up as you flutter your eyes open slowly. you let out a stretch as you looked around. you forgot you spent the night with Chris because he didn’t want you driving home. you turn your head to see him laid on his stomach shirtless snoring. you laugh quietly at him. you realized you didn’t have clothes on, your mind instantly flooded with what happened last night. you pick up your phone as you unlocked it, going to your camera roll.
the photos that Chris took popped up as your eyes widen and your cheeks turned red. you put your phone onto your chest as you looked up at the ceiling, remembering what he said, “maybe next time you’re stressed, you can look back at these.” you gulp at the moment that replayed in your head.
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a/n: i hope you enjoyed this! i’m really appreciating the support from a lot of you guys. it really brightens up my day! - L 🤍
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transmascaraa · 2 days
Note
hi its 🍓 anon, can I request comfort with Gaming, Bennett, Scaramouche, Cyno, and Tighnari?
I accidentally hurt my cat's leg maybe like 20 minutes ago from when this is in your inbox but I've honestly just been crying and curling up on the ground where she's laying underneath my desk. I feel awful even though it's an accident ☹️
I'm hoping she's okay and it's not bad but I'm scared I permanently gave her a limp or that she will hate me and no longer want to be around me anymore
multiple characters headcannons!
you accidentally hurt your pet.
characters: gaming, bennett, wanderer, cyno, tighnari x gn!reader
author's note: hi 🍓anon i'm sorry i'm doing this req so late but writer's block is there for some reason🤷‍♂️ I HOPE YOUR CAT IS OKAY NOW THO AND THAT SHE STILL LOVES YOU IK HOW IT IS😭 anyways i decided to write this cuz i was bored lmfao enjoyyyy🔥🔥
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♡ Gaming
-definetly gets worried after he sees you on the ground crying like that.
-"no... my love, what's wrong? you can talk to me, okay?"
-all while the pet was in the corner of the room, unphased.
-if left the room soon enough, but that was unnoticed by gaming.
-after you did your best at explaining the situation to him, he understood what you meant.
-a bit confused as to why were you thag worried about it, but he reassured you that your pet was fine and that they most probably forgive you.
-he's going to cuddle the pet with you to help you "apologize" to it.
-with gaming there, your pet will forget about what happened and just cuddle with the two of you there like nothing ever happened<3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
⑅ Bennett
-now, he's hurt a fair share of animals in his life due to his unluckiness.
-and he always feels really bad for them afterwards, so he would understand after you vent to him about it.
-"hmm... yeah... i get it.."
-but him, knowing that you're not as unlucky as he is, he reassures you that your pet is okay and still loves you.
-he'll prove it to you too.
-but first he would first make you take your mind off of it for a bit.
-and then feed the pet together as some parents to their 3yo child.
-now, speaking of him proving it to you, he'll just let you pet it and let it slowly lean into your gentle caressing of it.
-the only time he was lucky in his life was when he got to be with you.
-you just looked to precious being happy that your pet has forgiven you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
✧ Wanderer
-he just doesn't get it.
-why the hell are you rolling on the floor, crying, because you THINK you hurt your pet?
-"but are you sure you've actually hurt it? y'know, if you actually did, then its anger is justified-"
-until you started crying more.
-"b-but you probably didn't. so don't worry. you'll be fine, just like that like creature you call your pet."
-i mean you stopped crying so it was something????
-you'll have to beg him to cuddle you w your pet but eventually you'll convince him.
-the funny part was the fact that the pet was just more fond of wanderer, rather than you, despite forgiving you for anything and everything.
-for some unknown reasons, all animals like him, really.
-(if your pet is an aranara in some type of this teyvat au then it's even cuter)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
๑ Cyno
-he doesn't react much, really.
-not like alhaitham, but just more of his canon personality when he's not making dad jokes.
-i mean if anything, he's confused, but yeah.
-he just stares you on the floor.
-"what happened?"
-in the most monotone voice ever.
-and then after he understands why you're doing all of that, he shows a bit more of emotion.
-hardly spotted, but it's there.
-"well... i know something that can improve your mood. what do you call a-"
-you just give him a death stare. he doesn't continue speaking from there.
-afterwards, you'll feel the little cutie together and see that it's totally fine!
-you will get to hear the joke he was meaning to say sometime later, now he just doesn't wanna irritate you, he feels as if you need happiness now, not his dumb dad jokes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
✿⁠ Tighnari
-he genuinely gets worried.
-but worried in a mom way.
-"you're crying because of something you THINK? are you hearing yourself right now?"
-he's sassy, even when genuinely concerned.
-now, after telling you to take a few deep breaths, calm down, and drink a glass of water, he sits you down and lets you explain everything in great detail.
-then he brings the pet to the both of you, while he checks the pet for any scars, but they fortunately aren't there!
-you get incredibly happy and hug both tighnari and the pet, but he still doesn't understand if ut was worth the crying on the floor.
-your pet literally still loved you.
-but at least he was happy to help.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
okay i think this wasn't that bad
i really like cyno's and tighnari's tho
but this was fun to write overall tbh lol
| 🍓anon | @mariaace <3
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discordantwritings · 12 hours
Text
Creative Cures (Mihawk x Reader)
Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, sex pollen trope (but it’s a devil fruit power), the inherent dubcon of sex pollen but the con is as con as it can get under the circumstances, intercrural sex, PiV sex, creampie, mild cumplay, semi public sex
WC: 3.3k
Summary: As a relatively high ranking Marine doctor you were in charge of Dracule Mihawk’s post mission check ups. Normally you don’t have to do anything- until he shows up sick.
The only solution both you and him can agree on is a little… unconventional
Notes: I (lovingly) blame @fanaticsnail for this. All of her lovely sex pollen fics pushed me over the edge to write this one so go check hers out. Go.
Tagging: @keiva1000
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Most Marines didn’t like it when Mihawk had to come check in and give his after mission report in person. But you barely considered yourself a Marine anyways, always thinking of yourself as a doctor first before anything. A doctor who just so happened to be in charge of doing all of Mihawk’s post mission check ups.
Of course it took him a while to actually agree to do any sort of post mission work, but despite his generally sour attitude inside the Marines base he was never mean to you. Dismissive? Sure. Non-compliant with any medical advice you’d give? Yes. But that’s what you dealt with on a day to day basis. He was one of the few people you could have intelligent conversation with- he would listen to you and you would cherish the snippets of traveling stories you would get out of him.
Your check ups were never more than a handful of minutes, you had never seen him get more than a scratch, but he always let you run down your required checklist. Despite this you always cleared out half your day, just in case. So today, a day he was set to check in at your base, you sat patiently in your office until he was done talking with your superiors.
And waited.
And waited some more.
Until, finally, there was a frantic knock on your door before a frazzled looking cadet burst in. You immediately stand up and get serious- mass injuries were unfortunately commonplace for you to deal with and he had the scared look of someone who just saw a ship roll in half destroyed.
“Doctor-“
“How bad.”
“It’s Mihawk.”
That caught you entirely off guard and your stomach drops. “How bad?”
“We don’t know. He was giving his report and then he looked flushed and that’s when he ran out. Apparently he’s locked himself in some spare office and won’t come out.” He explains and you slowly get more and more concerned.
You quickly grab your bag and sling in over your shoulder, practically pushing the cadet out the door with you as you order him to show you where Mihawk is. It’s a quick jog down hallways and stairs but eventually you get to a door with two cadets on either side. One of your captains is leaning on the wall across from the door looking exasperated.
“The only thing he’s telling us is to leave him alone.” The captain explains, gesturing to the door.
You sigh and walk up to the door, rapping on it with your knuckles. “Mihawk, you’ve got everyone worried out here.”
A few seconds pass before you hear Mihawk’s voice, muffled from behind the steel door. “Doctor?”
“Everyone said you looked sick.” You explain.
There’s a long pause and you’re about to speak again before you hear his voice. “You all need to get out of here.”
You see the captain throw up his hands in your peripheral and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. Turning your attention back to your fellow Marines you gesture down the hallway.
“Give me a few minutes alone with him.” You don’t need to tell them twice, and they eagerly take the relief.
You wait a few beats for them to clear out and then turn your attention back to the door. “Alright, it’s just us.”
“I thought I made it clear that all of you needed to leave me alone.” You can tell he’s close to the door, which you take as somewhat of a good sign.
“Look, if it’s something contagious I just need to know. If it’s something embarrassing I’m a doctor and I take confidentiality incredibly seriously.” There’s silence and you lean on the door. “Just let me help you.”
You hear him moving behind the door and then the heavy sound of the lock turning. You give him a few seconds before you enter, closing the door after yourself immediately.
All the lights are off, only the small amount of light through the high circular windows illuminating the space. It takes you a second to locate Mihawk but eventually you find him, shoulders hunched as he leans on an abandoned desk. It’s jarring to see his normally perfect posture gone and even in the low light you can see the intense flush over his face and exposed chest. You don’t need a thermometer to see that his temperature is dangerously high.
“What happened?” You don’t approach him, hoping the space gives him some comfort.
“It was-“ He breaks off as he pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Some Devil Fruit user. Don’t know what the power was but I inhaled some smoke and then-“
He trails off and you know you’re probably in a bit over your head. Devil Fruit powers could be quite literally anything. You shove all that down though and hope your nervousness doesn’t show. “What are your symptoms?”
Mihawk shakes his head. “This was a mistake I shouldn’t have let you in you need to-“
“Mihawk I need you to tell me.” You’re unsure where this confidence is coming from, there’s not a world in which you would ever be in a position to tell a warlord what to do. But to your surprise, it works.
“I’ll kill you if you tell anyone.” He practically growls.
“You have my word.”
“Fine.” You see him shift and it looks like he’s uncomfortable in his own skin. “I have a fever, I am experiencing some mental fog, and my senses seem to be heightened.”
It’s your years as a doctor that let you immediately know he’s holding something back. “And?”
His gaze darts up and he glares at you making your blood run ice cold. If looks could kill you would be a pile of viscera on the floor. Despite this, he does give you and answer.
“I am in an… unnatural state of arousal.”
Oh.
That would certainly explain a few things.
You let your doctor brain take over as you set your bag on the ground, opening it and looking through what you have. Medication wouldn’t help since the cause was a Devil Fruit power but…
“Okay. I have a few ideas.” You reach into your bag and pull out an ice pack, throwing it over to Mihawk who easily catches it and presses it to his forehead. “The first is what you are doing, which is isolate until the effect stops. I’m not sure this is the best idea since you seem to be incredibly uncomfortable.”
“What else.”
“I could sedate you and hopefully have it flushed out of your system by the time you wake up.” You offer, showing him the vial of clear liquid.
“Absolutely not. I refuse to be further incapacitated around you Marines.” He spits out the last word and you would be offended if you actually considered yourself a Marine.
“Alright. Those are my… sensible ideas.”
“Which implies there are insensible ones. Spit it out.”
You can’t blame him for being short but it didn’t make your next concepts any easier to say. “I could find you someone to… ride it out with.”
That idea hangs in the air and you watch Mihawk screw his eyes shut, clearly struggling. “I don’t- it’s insufferable enough to be vulnerable on a Marine base but you want to bring in some stranger-“
“You’re right, I’m sorry.”
A thought pops into your head as you scramble for more ideas as Mihawk’s composure slowly keeps slipping. It’s a stupid thought, one a doctor like you shouldn’t have even had. But in the moment, pressed for ideas, it tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think properly about it.
“I would help you.”
You realize what you’ve said a moment too late and wish that somehow the floor would swallow you whole. It’s not like you don’t want to- it’s clear that your stupid monkey brain has always held on an attraction to the incredibly handsome warlord- but offering yourself up like this?
Beyond wildly inappropriate.
“Don’t say things like that.” Mihawk says as he backs up a few steps and shame hits you like a brick wall.
“I’m so sorry- it was- you shouldn’t be with anyone when you’re compromised like this I’ll just-“ You fumble over your words and quickly turn to unlock the door and get out of there.
Before your hand can even reach the handle an arm comes out from behind you and slams on the door. Suddenly you feel the intense heat of Mihawk’s body behind you, heavy breath fanning over the back of your neck. He doesn’t press into your body but instead hovers and your mind can’t quite keep up with the sudden change in events.
“Don’t say things like that if you don’t mean it.” His voice is low and dripping with lust.
Your gaze is locked forward as you try to control your breathing. “I meant it.”
“Last chance.”
The professional part of your brain gets smashed to smithereens as he presses his body against yours. “If you’re sure you want this then-“
The air is knocked out of your lungs as he steps forward, pushing you harshly into the door. One hand knots in your hair while the other snakes around your waist and pulls you in impossibly closer. The grip on your hair forces your head to the side, giving Mihawk the space to attack your neck, teeth digging into your skin immediately. As he does so he grinds his hips up and you can feel just how painfully hard he is against your ass.
The hand on your waist pulls at your uniform pants and you quickly get the idea, using your free hands to shove them down. You’re only able to get them just over your ass with how your legs are pressed apart by Mihawk’s but that seems to be enough for him. His hands leave you for a second and you hear the clatter of his belt before both hands tightly grip your hips.
You feel his cock slide between your folds, not entering you but instead sliding between your lips. His shaft is almost scorching hot as it slides against your clit, slick dripping from you and easing his shallow and fast thrusts.
“I just- fuck I just have to take the edge of your so-“ The grip on your hips is bruising as he holds you still to use you.
“It’s alright just-“ You can practically feel every vein against your sensitive clit and you bring one of your hands up and back to dig into his hair.
The scratch of your nails in his scalp is all Mihawk needs to tip over the edge, grunting as he spills onto the door and your thighs. You feel his heavy breath on your neck as he collects himself but the hardness against you doesn’t fade. You hear frustration in a low growl against your back but despite this he places kisses over the deep bite marks he created on your neck.
Slowly Mihawk pries his body away from yours and you take the opportunity to quickly toe off your shoes and slip your pants all the way off. When you turn around you see Mihawk watching you from a large chair, slowly pumping his cock, soaking from you slick.
“Get the rest of that god awful uniform off doctor.” You quickly discard your jacket and pull your shirt over your head, earning an appreciative hum from Mihawk. “What a pity you have to hide all that.”
You flush under his compliment and piercing gold gaze. With his free hand he beckons you over and you obey without hesitation. The second you’re close enough he pulls you into his lap, your thighs pushed apart by his spread ones. Your hands grab his shoulders to stabilize yourself as his hands find your hips once more.
“Normally I would work you open darling but-“ He nuzzles into your neck, breathing in your scent. “You can take it, can’t you?”
He doesn’t wait for a reply before one incredibly strong hand pushes you down while the other lines himself up with your entrance. You don’t fight him as his tip presses into you, stretching you out. You curse as he pushes into you a bit faster than you can adjust, but probably significantly slower than he wants to fuck into you. The sting feels good mixed with the way Mihawk curses and praises you under his breath, words barely understandable as his fingers bruise your waist.
“Just like that- so fucking tight-“ He mouths at your collarbone as you sink down and your head falls back as he splits you open.
Soon enough your hips meet his and you moan and dig your nails into Mihawk’s shoulders. He can’t help but shallowly thrust up into you, hot breath fanning over your skin as his instincts seem to overwhelm him. Once you feel ready you work to move your hips in time with his, pulling yourself up and down further on his length.
“That’s it- you’ve been waiting for an excuse to fuck yourself on my cock huh? Proper little doctor- I’ve seen how you- fuck- how you look at me.” You flush with embarrassment and look down to see his golden eyes blown out by darkness.
Maybe you should have some shame, knowing you were seen through so easily, but when he looks up at you like that you can’t think of anything else. You quickly press your lips to his and he seems caught off guard for a second- only to quickly overtake the kiss. One strong hand grips the back of your neck and holds you in place as his tongue slips between your lips. You stay like this until your lungs scream at you and you push yourself back and gasp for air.
You’re about to lean in for another kiss when you notice Mihawk’s gaze quickly dart to the door. You’re confused for a second but soon a loud knocking bounces off the steel door.
“Doctor- status report?” One of the cadets yells through the door and you swear under your breath.
You stop your movements, hoping to catch your breath and sound somewhat put together but Mihawk has other ideas. The second you falter he grabs your hips and starts moving you up and down effortlessly and when you glare at him he only grins up at you.
Seems he still has the mental capacity to be an ass.
“We are-“ You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to stop a moan after a skillfully directed thrust. “We are quarantining until some of my tests are- are done processing.”
There’s a pause before the cadet responds. “Okay… are you alright? You’re not sick are you?”
When one of Mihawk’s hands leave your hips you know something is up and you’re able to bite down on your hand in time to stifle the moan that leaves your body when his skilled fingers find your clit. You’re so close to an orgasm but you fight it back just long enough to get this stupid cadet out of here.
“Quarantine this hallway until my further say- that’s an order!” You yell out and you hope and pray the cadet doesn’t hear the pleasure in your voice.
“Y-Yes!” The voice shouts back and you hope he’s running down the hall because you can’t take this anymore.
“What would your fellow Marines think?” Mihawk’s voice, cruel and playful, rings in your ears. “They’re precious doctor getting fucked stupid by a pirate- fuck you like that don’t you?”
You can only nod, overwhelmed by hick cock and fingers skillfully taking you apart.
“You’re squeezing me so tight- just- need you to cum all over my cock- you can do that can’t you? Cum for me-“ There’s a hint of desperation in his voice and his command breaks any last tethers you were using to hold off your orgasm snap.
Mihawk swears loudly as your walls convulse around him and it’s only seconds later he’s holding your hips down hard against his and spilling inside you. You lay your forehead on Mihawk’s shoulder as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. Even after you catch your breath he’s still hard inside you and you know you’re not done yet.
“I just want to see- hold on.” Is the only warning you get before Mihawk is standing up.
Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips but his strong hands on your ass are more than enough to keep you up. He moves a few feet to the desk, setting you down on it and tapping your thigh once you’re settled. You get the idea and unlatch your legs, letting him slip out and away from you.
“Let me see.” Mihawk says as he pushes your knees apart, eyes transfixed between them. “Fuck.”
He watches as his cum leaks out of you, his fingers quickly scooping it up and shoving it back inside of you. In any other headspace you might think that was disgusting but the way he watches you and is claiming you makes it incredibly arousing. Once he’s satisfied he brings his fingers up to your mouth and you automatically take them between your lips, tasting the mix of your fluids.
“I’m- fuck- you’re perfect.” He seems reluctant to take his fingers from your mouth but the second both his hands are free he’s easily flipping you around and pushing your chest into the desk.
There’s no warning before he’s plunging into you again, your hips roughly meeting the edge of the wooden desk. You don’t really feel the pain amongst the pleasure, oversensitive from your previous orgasm. You feel open mouth kisses pepper your spine as he thrusts into you from behind. While one of his hands stays on your hips- your skin practically indented in the shape of his fingers there now- one reaches down to your thigh, giving it a squeeze before he pushes your leg upwards. The new angle is heavenly as you just let yourself be used- sliding forwards and backwards on the desk with each powerful thrust.
“Need you to- fuck darling I just need you to cum on me again- please I need to feel it-“ Mihawk sounds so desperate, a whine to his voice that he no longer can hide. “Just a little bit more for me-“
Your body seems to crave following his commands and another orgasm is ripped from your sensitive body. Only a few moments later you feel him cum inside you again, and you’re confident at this point he’s dripping out of you onto the floor.
“So good for me- taking all my cum-“ He’s breathless as he pulls out of you again and you don’t need to turn around to know he’s staring at your fucked out hole.
When he actually give you space for a minute you turn your head, still using the table to support your weight. “You feel better?”
“Hm…” His hand skates up your back, soothing you. “Feeling just sated enough to get you back to the room I’m staying in.”
The prospect of going more rounds was overwhelming but you can’t deny that you wanted it more than anything. One problem.
“If anyone sees me I think they’ll figure out some of what happened.” From your messed up hair, the bruises forming on your neck, and the fact that there’s no way you’ll be able to walk normally- yeah it’ll be obvious you were just fucked within an inch of your life.
“Oh doctor.” He pulls you up off the desk and places a surprisingly tender kiss on your forehead. “If anyone else sees you like this I’ll kill them.”
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kaivenom · 2 days
Note
I just found your blog looking for Spencer white fics and yours are so good! I was wondering if you’d be willing to write something between spider and a gn reader who finds it really attractive when he speaks French (cause that scene did something to me-)
Thank you for feeding the small amount of hbh fics🙏🙏
French cuisine
Summary: you go to Spencer's house and found him cooking, you decide to help him and you discover he can speak french.
Pairing: Spencer "Spider" White x gn!reader
A/N: Sorry that this had taken so long, college is starting the final section before exams an i am going crazy. Words on cursive are the translation from french.
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It was an ussual Friday, you were going to Spencer's house, see some movies and eat popcorn. When you entered the house with the keys you borrowed, a french song was playing on the background, that was strange you thought, it must be his mother. Following the song, you found Spencer in the kitchen with an apron full of flour and humming the song.
"Look what we have here, the perfect 50's housewife," you joked while you get to hugh him from behind.
"Bonjour." he asked with a smile.
"Bonjour."
"Comment allez-vous?" you didn't understand anything and that made you question things.
"Wait, don't tell me you know how to speak french?"
"Yeah, i know, but i don't have to do it everytime... it's awful when people ask me: can you say something in french? or things like that."
"But you could have told me, i am your girlfriend." you tightened your grip among his waist and made a pout.
"I don't like to brag about it, but now you know."
"Yeah, right. What you said to me before?"
"How are you?" he turned around and kissed your forehead.
"Good, you?"
"Bon." something on the form he said it, made you blush.
"I suppose that means good."
"Correct." he put a finger with fluor on your nose, painting it white.
"Can you say more to me?" you make puppy eyes and like always, he can't resist.
"Tu es très belle," your heart skipped a heartbeat, you didn't know what he said but hearing him talking in french was exciting you more every secon. "i said you are very beautiful."
"Yeah?" his hands went to your cheeks and kissed you.
"Tu es la meilleure personne du monde." his lips drain your soul with every word and every kiss in between. You are the best person in the world
"Tell me more, please."
"Je t'aime... tes lèvres... ton corps... tes sons." his kisses increased, in speed, in intensity and passion, he was starting to feel very aroused by your reaction. I love you... your lips... your body... your sounds.
"I don't know what you said but i do too." you both laughed inoccently, for a moment unaware from the steamy interaction you both were having.
"Je veux faire du sexe avec toi." a moan almost escaped your mouth, you only understood one word and that was enough.
Then you started to smell burnt but apparently Spider was so concentrated in kissing your lips and neck, that he had forgotten he was cooking and also that he had things on the pans... that now are burning.
"How do you say the kitchen is on fire?"
"La cuisine est en feu." only a second was needed before he understood your words.
You both had to run to turn off the fire and open the windows to vent the kitchen. Nothing was saved from the disaster so you decided to order some french food to honor the ocassion and finish what you both started.
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bisexualbrainrots · 2 days
Text
I had to come here after seeing the hellfire that formed on 911twt.
I cannot believe that now that bucktommy has reached 1k fanfics on ao3 the BoBs felt like it was time to talk about henren.
Now?! Not when a big number of the henren fanfics weren't even about them but buddie? Not when buddie, a fanon ship, has accumulated (up to today!) over 20k fanfics? Now they wanna talk about henren?
It just feels like they want to use anything at this point to bring down that ship, to the point where they even scream about something that, oh surprise, they caused.
(I am aware that it's also a big issue in fandoms though, I'm not denying that the lack of henren fics isn't concerning to say the least, but this is not something that's only closed to 9-1-1, it's a grand scale problem)
What do you mean it's racist to ship and write bucktommy fanfiction? What about oh idk, the writers comparing a black foster child to a dog?!
I'm not black so I can't speak for any other black sapphic out there, but I can definitely say that it's so convenient how they remember that henren exists now that buck and tommy are becoming more prominent, but not when buck had just kissed a man oh no that's when the show suddenly became “the gay firefighter show", which completely omitted the actual queer relationships/characters that exist on the show.
I feel like my wording may not be the best so I apologize if anything came off weird, but it's 2am where I live and I'm writing this with everything I have.
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little-sleepy-owl · 20 hours
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𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫,
who is a virgin and wants him to be their first. gender neutral, not so much explicit, but still smutty, as usual. Alastor is his own warning. kinda.
this one took me a while for several reasons. mostly because life is a bitch, but also because it was a really hard piece to write. I'm asexual myself and this is heavily self-indulgent. I wanted to maintain this treat of his, but still explore the sexual aspect of the relationship and the way asexual people might participate in it. so... yeah. proceed with understanding of this.
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oh? so, you're just like him.
the only one who is not surprised whatsoever. isn't it supposed to be that way?
though there are a lot of vulgar people around. he might even praise you for keeping your chastity for so long.
but… becoming your first?
“Truly, my dear? That's quite the favor to ask a gentleman!”
it's less about being repulsed by the idea of intimacy (it doesn't sound bad if it's with you) and more about not wanting to step into a completely uncharted territory.
that's a first for him too, after all.
give him time. he needs to research some things before he's ready to try.
a week or two later he suddenly appears out of the shadows in your room with loud static noises, scaring the shit out of you, and announces that he would be very pleased to take the offer!!
hooray..? (please come out from under the bed, darling.)
now, just like Husk, he is an old-fashioned man. for him, this could only happen after a nice date.
he prefers a simple stroll around the city arm in arm, and having some coffee with you.
you can sense that he's a tad nervous, but also deeply thrilled. his posture is a little stiff while walking, ears, usually unmoving, twitch slightly here and there. it's cute.
you also notice he's more physically intimate with you today than usual. sitting a bit closer to you and leaning in subtly, so you can feel his warmth. gently covering your hand with his own. reaching to fix your hair, touch feather-like and making your heart pound in your chest.
none of it is sexual in any way, but the difference in his demeanor doesn't let you forget your plans for the night even for a moment.
judging by the sly curve of his smile and very attentive gaze, this is one hundred percent intentional.
inclined to take you into his own room after the date. if you're not against the living forest in the background.
(I suggest you accept the offer. fireflies would be a very romantic addition to your night.)
he needs to talk things out first.
“Let's discuss some rules of our… little arrangement.”
the rules are quite simple, although you might find them odd.
he will not take all his clothes off. especially not the lower part. pants stay on no matter what.
his hands, his mouth? all for your pleasure, darling. no limitations here.
and maybe, if you behave yourself and ask nicely… his shadows, too, can participate.
he merrily refuses to elaborate on what “behaving” means for him exactly. it's simply more fun that way, isn't it?
jacket tossed inside, sleeves rolled up. honestly speaking, it already feels too revealing. you don't think you ever saw so much of his arms or his neck before.
he is in a white shirt today, clean and pure, like the snow on the mountaintop. pristine even.
you never saw this, either.
he follows your gaze and his smile turns a little unsettling. you shiver, suddenly feeling like you are the one who's exposed here, even though you haven't taken off anything yet.
“No blood to stain it today, my dear,” he coos, adjusting the shirt slightly. oh, so usually he wears red for–
you don't want to continue this thought right now.
he's very insistent on undressing you by himself.
he uncovers you like you're his birthday cake in a cute present box. slowly removing every ribbon, carefully taking off the wrapping, anticipating what's underneath.
his hands are cold, but his eyes are heated, even somewhat hungry. and so, so intent.
he drinks on your every shiver, on the way your lips parts ever so slightly to let out a small gasp, on the goosebumps that run on your skin, when he leans in to nibble on your pretty neck, right beside the quicked throbbing of your pulse.
he hums an old tune, seemingly lost in exploration of your body and the way you respond to his touch.
he's eager to learn and very observant. he changes the pace the moment he notices you feeling uncomfortable. he discovers what makes you respond well and uses the knowledge without any shame.
but he also does very much love you telling him what you want him to do with that cute trembling voice of yours.
that's what eventually earns you the shadows taking part in the whole fun. if this is something you desire.
if you weren't satisfied before, you most certainly are now.
expect him to restrain you. he likes to see you squirming under his touch, unable to set the pace. he does everything deliberately slow, so you would beg him to give you more and do it faster.
he's very controlling in general, and although he takes into account what you want, he will also act on his own whim.
it honestly seems that he likes teasing and tormenting you to see your reactions much more than the physical aspect of it all.
humor him, and he will reward you accordingly.
but don't let him get too lost in it. he has a tendency to forget that you're not merely a toy to play with.
set some boundaries and you'll be alright.
once you both decide it's enough, he's a thoughtful gentleman again, bringing a glass of water for you, and helping you clean yourself up.
will let you rest your head on his lap, gentle light of fireflies surrounding you.
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he sings a shooting melody, letting you peacefully drift off to sleep.
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Being called annoying bucktommy shipper when you called out problem of some buddie stans(real toxic stans) when you yourself (IMAGINE THAT) buddie shipper for three years with 22 posted fics and 100+ wips about buddie, and enjoy both pairings, make you see why so many people are negative about the ship. The people like that attack everyone, not just other fans but actors and writers, and you think it will help? You think when Oliver already said he doesn't support how actress of prev LI of Buck and Eddie (who btw I never hated. Back to tags of this person. But I'm pretty sure, you honey send death wishes to them) were treated, but still for now support buddie means he supports your toxic behavior? No, he literally called out this behavior. You think attacking Lou or Tim will help buddie happen? It will just make people hate it more, the other fans who might become shippers if buddie will become canon, but if before it they will see how you treat anyone who is not "buddie all the way" surprise they will be against the ship, which will not be good for buddie. Because Imagine that buddie is not loved by every person in the fandom. Not by ga too. For now it shipped by less people when you try to imagine
I was waiting for buddie for 3 years, still part of me waiting, but yes, I enjoy see Buck happy and enjoy my bucktommy time and really support if writes will make it endgame
Go piss yourself in frustration that other people can stay decent to the ships and other fans, respect actors and creators, not speaking about their ship under posts about the completely different one
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I Think Hypmic's Portrayal of Gender Roles is Kinda Refreshing: An Essay A.K.A. I'm Procrastinating on a Weekend Deadline :)
Hypmic's talking points on gender are hamfisted, corny, and melodramatic. "Maybe...we shouldn't have a wage gap," is not the hottest of takes. However, like most things in Hypmic, the writers have a lot more to say about gender and gender roles in the framing of the story itself that's much more nuanced. And honestly? It's kinda refreshing.
It's also something that went way over my head when I first became a Hypmic fan. Sure, I read manga and played Japanese video games--usually translated into English first--but I didn't have enough exposure to hundreds or thousands of pieces of untranslated Japanese media. I'm going to guess that most Hypmic fans don't either, which is totally fine and normal. We all exist within our respective cultural communities wherein we're bombarded with messages constantly telling us how to act, think, and speak. We tend to absorb these messages on subconscious levels and reflect them in the art we create and stories we tell, either by reinforcing them or challenging them. Thus, our stories don't exist in a vacuum, and divorcing stories from their cultural backgrounds can suggest the artist is the original thinker of a larger concept or hide their specific point of criticism. That is, if I wrote a story about a man who chooses to not catch fish, drink beer, and drive a Dodge Ram pick-up truck, we should be aware that I'm not the person who conceptualized the stereotype of dudes who catch fish, drink beer, and drive pick-ups. I wouldn't deserve the credit for dreaming up that exact image, and at the same time, it would be incorrect to read that as me targeting those three things randomly. The choice to not drive a Dodge Ram pick-up is not a commentary on Fiat Chrysler Automobiles. It's a stand-in for the notion of masculinity.
Thing is, we're hit with messages about masculinity, femininity, and other gender-related concepts on a daily basis. No matter where you live or what language you speak, every person on Earth is inundated with messages saying, "This is what you are, and consequently, this is how you should act." Our relation to these messages is complicated, and this complexity is compounded by different cultural communities preaching different messages in their stories, marketing, and human interactions. For instance, the US's massive global cultural influence means that those outside the US can still easily recognize what I mean by catching fish, drinking beer, and driving enormous American pick-up trucks. But the location and cultural differences may add or subtract nuances. A person living in, say, Munich is unlikely to have Dodge pick-ups advertised to them the way a person in rural Texas would. Our fictional Munich person does not feel the same social pressures to buy a Dodge and represent their masculinity with a Dodge the way our imaginary Texan would. In turn, the Munich person likely sees a Dodge with an element of absurdity--who the hell needs such a big truck in a European city?--and foreign Americanness. The Texan wouldn't have that concern--why worry about navigating your enormous truck down narrow streets when you live in the countryside?--and sees Americanness as their local default, thus removing any element of foreignness.
That is to say, gendered messages aimed at people (especially women) who live in Japan don't affect me the same way as they impact those who do live in Japan. Like, it's not my dog in the fight, and there are plenty of people who are directly affected who write their own stories and commentaries on gender roles in Japan. Japanese women don't need a random guy in the US to stand up and say, "Damn, your gender roles are fucked!" 1) They already know. 2) They're already saying it. So I come at this from an angle of someone who already has deep, primary frustration with the gendered messaging in my culture and secondary frustrations when similar messages appear in other cultures. I don't have a bone to pick with Japanese media in particular. Plain and simple, reading and working on hundreds of pieces of Japanese media is what I do for a living. It's in my face constantly, and as a result, I am also perpetually bombarded by messages about gender roles in Japanese media.
It's not a hot take to say that Japanese media, like the media of every single other culture around the globe, has a lot to say about gender. There's a lot of slotting people into boxes and telling people what to do. It's chafing, as we see all across history in art produced in reaction to gender roles. In the past couple of decades, global shifts in gender roles have caused media to shift the messages they're pushing, but it's not controversial to say that Japan has lagged behind other countries like the US.
Many, many stories push arbitrary notions of how to be a girl or how to be a boy that don't necessarily come from the author themselves. The authors probably aren't even fully conscious that they're making these choices. If an author writes a story about a library and makes every female character a romance fan and every male character an action fan, it's likely a reflection of endless messaging that says action is for boys, romance is for girls. In turn, this story becomes yet another reinforcing message. If no fictional girls like action, and no fictional boys like romance, it becomes alienating for real girls and boys who don't follow these same rules. These rules are everywhere and have so much to say about gender that it's hard to know where to begin. Girls must like cute things. Boys can't like sweet food. Women must not express sexual desire. Men can't be shy. On and on and on.
Which is why, when there's a relative lack of this in Hypmic, it's kind of a breath of fresh air.
Wrong Ways to Be a Man
Actually, Hypmic does have a few moments where characters claim there are certain things men or women should do, but the writing always frames these messages as incorrect.
Take Samatoki, for instance. After Kuukou and Sasara leave MCD, Samatoki tells Ichirou, "Men shouldn't cry when they lose their friends. Men should only cry when they lose a family member."
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(TDD chapter 10)
This line usually appears via Ichirou's perspective. In the stage play, it's told during a song Ichirou narrates, and as shown above in panel 3, the manga frames the line from the angle at which Ichirou sees it. In such moments, the audience is meant to read this as a cool line from a strong mentor figure to Ichirou. That's how Ichirou sees it, and he's a seventeen-year-old with too much on his shoulders who idolizes Samatoki. He is incapable of seeing how much pain Samatoki struggles with.
However, when the manga focuses on more intimate moments of Samatoki's life, we see that Samatoki does struggle quite a lot.
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(BB/MTC+ chapter 6)
This isn't a cool, attractive figure meant to be idolized. While Samatoki's cigarette usage and aggressiveness are often framed as sexy or enticing, the juxtaposition with dirty laundry, overflowing ashtrays, and empty bottles make him a sympathetic and struggling figure. Therefore, we should understand that his notion that men don't cry is flawed. It's a means to distract himself from emotions he doesn't want to feel.
Later, as Samatoki begins to process his emotions and open up to his teammates, the unhealthy coping mechanisms recede. Samatoki is more confident, mature, and happier as a result of being more emotionally vulnerable.
We see a similar transformation with Kuukou. As a teen, Kuukou is reluctant to accept help or truly let anyone in. In a conversation with Hitoya, he says (and I am still completely unable to take this seriously), "A man's got to wipe his own ass."
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(DH/BAT chapter 4)
However, over the course of his character arc, Kuukou learns that he cannot exist as a good leader or individual without the teamwork of his newfound "family." Only rejecting this classical and toxic notion of masculinity brings Kuukou joy.
In fact, most of the first-line characters have very similar arcs. At the start of the story, Ichirou is insistent on doing everything himself. He has to learn to be able to rely on other people (Kuukou, Samatoki, Ichirou and Jirou) to be happier and unlock his true strength. See below, his final attack and Ability use in the 2nd DRB, which is only possible when his brothers figuratively and literally support him through it.
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(BB/MTC+ chapter 25)
Sasara struggles with emotional honesty and trust in favor of using humor to gloss over discomfort. It takes multiple heart-to-hearts with Roshou before he can let humor take a backseat and say how he really feels. Ramuda has difficulty trusting other people and being honest with his emotions when faced with stressful scenarios. Only through Fling Posse is he able to open up and ask for help instead of driving people away when the problems are too big for him to face alone. Jakurai struggles to connect with other people, work through and acknowledge his complicated feelings, and not place himself on a pedestal. Through Matenrou, Jakurai is able to ask for help, be more open, and ultimately be less hard on himself.
The second- and third-line characters follow similar arcs, and this repetition creates a core message for Hypmic: Trust and rely other people. Be open with your feelings. There's a wrong way to be a man, and that's to hurt yourself and other people.
Right Ways to Be a Man...Are Infinite!
But with that being said, there is a surprising lack of commentary on how else to be a man. Hypmic as a whole doesn't do much to constrain the male characters in terms of gender roles.
Sure, some characters do fit into more traditionally masculine roles--Ichirou, Samatoki, Riou, etc. The messaging makes it clear that it isn't wrong to play into masculinity provided it doesn't become toxic. (See above.)
Even then, however, these especially masculine characters are associated with less masculine traits that are either portrayed positively or not portrayed as a joke. Riou is an avid cook, but the joke is never that he wears an apron and knows his way around an outdoor kitchen (tee-hee, men don't cook!). It's that he cooks with horrifying ingredients. Samatoki is a fashionista, but the joke is framed as a counterpart to Ichirou's nerdiness.
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(DoD chapter 1)
Here, it's funny that neither of them can shut up (the ペラペラ/blah blah SFX, the long bubbles filled with lots of text that's cut to indicate they kept going for longer), but the object of their attention--a model toy and a pair of jeans--are treated in the same neutral light. It's very common for stories to touch on, even defensively, the social taboo of men being into clothes. Hypmic doesn't even acknowledge that such a taboo could exist.
This is subtle but extraordinarily effective in giving characters the same consideration and weight. The more feminine characters are always treated just as sincerely (or, if there's a joke to be made, irreverently) as the more masculine characters. Take Ramuda, for instance. In Japanese media, a love of sweets is often characterized as feminine and will often be remarked upon, even in LGBT+ media, as atypical for men. Again, there's zero acknowledgement of such a thing in Hypmic. Whenever other characters talk about Ramuda's food intake, it's always framed as a concern about the lack of nutrition.
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(FP/M chapter 11... I don't have the source lying around on my computer, so here's the old-ass scanlation lol)
It's also given the exact same weight as anyone else's junk food habits. Here, MCD goes out for burgers (a neutral to masculine-coded food due to the meat and high calorie count) while Ramuda opts to try a sugary Starbucks-esque drink. The parallelism in the comic's framing suggests that the two objects are functionally the same, and there is no comment that a sugary drink is feminine and therefore "inappropriate" for Ramuda. There's also no indication that MCD's preferences are in any way better. They simply happen to be the characters' personal preferences. The punchline is two groups splitting up, only to awkwardly run into each other again moments later.
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(DoD volume 4 bonus comic)
Similarly, Ramuda's interest in clothes or fashion is never treated negatively--in fact, the discussions of clothes as a means to find identity and happiness make it a positive!
In ARB cards and promotional materials, Ramuda sometimes wears dresses. It's, again, portrayed in parallel to other characters wearing more masculine clothes and is never commented on as something "unusual." It's just who Ramuda is.
Hifumi is another interesting case. Like Ramuda, his playful personality often doesn't as stereotypically masculine. (To be clear, I read much of this as "gender neutral with a strong emphasis on youth" versus "feminine" in a way that I'm not sure has a good US equivalent...metrosexual/yuppie men's fashion, maybe? In the sense that it's a youth subculture that defies some masculine gender roles but is still focused mainly on men. I wish I was more well-versed in Japanese men's fashion and could give an exact term, but I'm what I'm thinking of is definitely an established thing--young, trendy dudes whose styles focus on poppiness vs. the rugged manly man or "idk, I'm just some guy" subcultures. It's a thing that pisses off old Japanese conservative men in the same fashion as people getting up in arms about "the gayz!!!1!" and their androgynous clothing lol.) Their personalities are often the butt of jokes, but only in the same way that Dice or Doppo are--that is, that they're exaggerated and over the top. There's no commentary on masculinity or lack thereof.
There are also moments when Hifumi, Gentarou, or other characters play feminine characters in roleplay moments, which is usually (but not always) not the sole joke. The audience is supposed to find it funny, but the humor is almost always centered on the absurdity of the scene as a whole. For instance, in a moment where Hifumi and Doppo are pretending to be two drunk karaoke-goers, the humor comes from the composite set-up of Hifumi's hair twirl, Doppo's untucked shirt and tie, Doppo and Hifumi's exaggeratedly flirtatious poses, the spotlights and sparkles, and the same font as used on classic karaoke machines.
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(FP/M+ September 2022 oneshot)
Hifumi and Doppo do not perform traditional gender roles in their homelife, and while it's easy to see and often commented on in the English-speaking fanbase when it comes to Hifumi, I find it just as prevalent on Doppo. It's true that Hifumi is taking a feminine role by doing the majority of the household's cooking and cleaning, but if we were to assume Doppo has the masculine role in the household, he would have the breadwinner duty. However, he isn't the main source of income for their household, and he's just as unassertive in finding a (female) romantic partner as Hifumi is. Japanese men are bombarded with media messages stressing the importance of taking an active role in career and romance. That Doppo does not would, in many stories, make him the butt of a joke for not living up to masculine gender roles. But he isn't; instead, Hypmic portrays him as a sympathetic character. It's tough, Hypmic says, for people to get good jobs and maintain friendships/relationships as an adult.
Similarly, it's noteworthy that Hifumi's self-appointed term "Gigolo" is consistently portrayed as a good thing in Hypmic. The meaning of the English term aside, the Japanese word ジゴロ (jigoro) is almost always used as an insult for a man who is financially dependent on one or multiple women. In the strictest sense of the term, Hifumi is a jigoro in that his income derives from his female clients. However, there is never any shame associated with that, and as a whole, Hifumi's career as a host is shown to be a positive thing. I can't express enough how rare that is in any sort of semi-serious media. Certainly, Hypmic acknowledges that his job requires too much drinking (Doppo's verse in Hoodstar), but the overall portrayal is overwhelmingly positive. Hifumi and his coworkers are never treated as uneducated, boorish, or pathetic for "failing" to find other work that does not require flirting with and entertaining women. (This is partially due to the overlapping judgment with sex work.)
All the various harmless preferences and personality traits of the male characters are treated equally with no judgement over what's masculine or non-masculine. Within the broader context of Japanese media, this absence of judgment stands out and reinforces one of Hypmic's core themes: Differences make us better, not worse. In the end, Hypmic suggests, there's no one right way to be a man.
Right Ways to Be a Woman...Are Just as Infinite!
But what about women? This series is, after all, marketed mainly towards women, and while female audience members can no doubt extrapolate the lessons learned from the male characters, it's worth taking a look at the female characters too.
The female characters do receive much less screen time than the men and are not the focus in the series; I'd argue that's less an issue of overt sexism and more that they fall out of focus in the story the writers want to tell. (There's a broader discussion to be had about inherent sexism in the writers' focus which goes hand-in-hand with rap industries across the globe favoring men and rap being an example of exaggerated masculinity, but that's a topic for another day.)
Even so, the framing of the female characters is interesting in a couple key respects. The individual character arcs and motivations of the main female characters are, in my opinion, some of the weakest parts of Hypmic--many times, Otome and Ichijiku do things because the plot demands them to, making them look incompetent or needlessly cruel for characters we're supposed to sympathize with. Nemu's story seems to be handled with more care and takes an interesting twist, wherein she openly acknowledges that she's disenfranchised as a woman in modern Japan but rejects the notion that she needs to find strength on either Ichirou or Samatoki's (male) terms. By choosing to be strong in "her own way" (whatever that means...it's not well-defined), the authors are using Nemu to reject the notion that strength and power are inherently masculine.
What I find to be far more interesting is the character design for the Chuuouku women, both in what is said and what is not said.
To begin with, the characters and their portrayals run the gambit from highly sexualized to completely non-sexual. Some characters (especially Ichijku and Honobono) have conventionally attractive, curvy body types and are often drawn in ways that highlight their bodies.
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(FP/M+ chapter 4)
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(FP/M+ chapter 14)
In some cases, especially Honobono's, the enticing nature of the illustrations is framed as the character's choice; in the above, her words indicate that she wants to seduce the off-screen listeners. The images included above are largely representative of these characters' raps, regardless of illustrator.
But on the flip side, other characters with large breasts or hips are never drawn in a sexual fashion. By way of comparison, here are two shots of Nemu rapping.
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(BB/MTC+ chapter 12)
Even in shots with dynamic poses, no attention is drawn to Nemu's figure in any sort of provocative sense. Nemu touches her chest, drawing the reader's eye there, but the artist does not emphasize the size of her chest--they're allowing a chest touch to be no more than an emphasis of the self. At the same time, Nemu's body isn't downplayed. We can see in panel 2 on page 2 that Nemu has a small waist and wider hips, but once again, she isn't being sexualized. The action lines draw the reader's eye to Samatoki and thus put the action first and foremost. This creates the idea that not only can characters portray themselves sexually, but they can just as easily choose not to.
We see similar with Otome, who does not wear any sort of revealing clothing and is never shown in a sexual fashion. However, Hypmic doesn't equate revealing clothing to sexual portrayals either! While I wouldn't call Tsumabira's outfit revealing, she does have more visible cleavage than most Chuuouku figures. However, her bare chest is never sexualized like Ichijiku's.
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(BB/MTC+ chapter 4)
Compare the non-emphasis on the chest and the power stance to any of the many shots of Ichijuku where her breasts are front and center in the camera. Speaking of power stance, Tsumabira remains confident in her power stance without being sexy--that is, no stepping on the camera and showing her whole leg.
Which isn't to say that Tsumabira is a sexless character. She's drawn visibly turned on by the male characters in such a way that is cartoonish but not, in turn, overly sexual. Were this supposed to be titillating to the reader, I would have expected to see a larger close-up on her face and tongue. However, the artist (who is no stranger to focusing on tongues!) devotes the majority of the panel to Tsumabira's body language (which, again, doesn't absurdly exaggerate any of her proportions or focus on her chest) and covers part of the mouth with text bubbles. Tsumabira is drawn as engaging in sexual behavior without being sexualized for reader entertainment.
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(FP/M+ chapter 4)
The juxtaposition of such different views with little to no judgement attached to any of them suggests that it's perfectly okay to want to be sexy or not, to wear revealing clothing or not, to be involved in sexual situations without being the object of sexual interest, or to simply exist with an attractive body type without sex ever coming into the equation. Just as some characters choose to tie bodies to sexiness, some don't whatsoever--and either is perfectly fine!
The former idea ("I can choose to be sexy") may not sound especially revolutionary to US audiences, where sexuality is thrust upon women willingly or otherwise, but I find it fascinating because it lets the main characters embrace this idea without associated slut shaming. So much of Japanese media insists that women should be sexy but are also wrong for wanting to indulge in their own sexuality. Therefore, having characters who run virtually every iteration of take on the topic (I want to engage in sexuality and be sexualized, I want to engage in sexuality without being sexualized, I don't want to engage in either) with multiple body types (ie, Tsumabira isn't automatically not sexualized because she has a smaller chest; Nemu isn't automatically sexualized because she has a bigger chest) and no judgement involved feels like another breath of fresh air to me.
As a whole, I find the diversity of the Chuuouku uniforms and character appearances quite interesting. They're undeniably all feminine and relatively militaristic, but different characters wear entirely different wardrobes. Skirts vs pants, blouses vs dresses, high heels vs boots... Since every character has her own take on the common theme, it once again feeds into the idea that each character is her own individual and perfectly valid for defining femininity in her own way.
Haircuts, too, range from longer and more feminine hairstyles to pixie cut-esque looks.
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(BB/MTC+ chapter 16)
Again, nothing of the framing suggests this short-haired woman is in any way different from her longer-haired counterparts on the edges of this screenshot.
Finally, while most Chuuouku women are conventionally attractive, I find it extremely compelling that Haebaru is a stereotype of an unattractive Japanese woman. To be extremely clear, I do not think these stereotypes should have weight, but the combination of chubby and/or muscular build, freckles, rounded nose, and non-glossy hair is often used as a visual shorthand for unattractive or otherwise undesirable women.
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Sure, it's not fantastic that Haebaru is a scheming, two-bit villain. However, so is virtually every other female character in the series, and in particular, Haebaru is (the conventionally attractive) Tsumabira's counterpart. Both are treated with the same respect or lack thereof, suggesting that one's appearance has nothing to do with your ability to be a no-good baddie. Ha ha ha.
It would be lovely if the female characters were fleshed out further and given intelligent choices and diversity outside of the realms of physical appearance. However, I do think the writers' choices are limited by virtue of all women automatically being antagonistic side characters (which, again, is another discussion altogether). What the writers can and have accomplished is further reinforcing a celebration of differences. Just as there's no one right way to be a man, there's an infinite number of ways to be a scheming snake of a woman HAHA.
Intersection with LGBT+ Topics
Unfortunately, this is a very binary look at gender and gender roles, which, while largely representative of the current state of Japanese media, can be disappointing.
Hypmic appears to want to steer shy of LGBT+ topics as a whole, which is a bit of a shame. In a story so focused on gender and acceptance of diversity, it seems the natural next step to explore the notion of those who experiences don't align with a strict gender binary. Such stories are growing in popularity in Japanese media but have yet to be anywhere near the mainstream acceptance in US media (which is still in a fledgling stage at best). I would imagine Hypmic's writers are unable or unwilling to take a definite stance on these topics in the work due to fears of financial or career backlash. If nothing else, the sexuality of the main characters needs to remain in a limbo in order to have plausible deniability for both self-shipping and shipping with other characters. (Some deniability may be more plausible than others.)
The few instances in which Hypmic does wander into this territory are usually clumsy. I am no fan of the handful of scenes where male/male attraction is supposed to be funny purely by virtue of being male/male.
The inclusion of Urumi, the one minor character explicitly LGBT+, is not stellar either. I am hesitant to apply any definite label to her, as the real-life people her stereotype portrays self-identify as everything from trans women to cis men--or refuse to use these English labels at all! Still, we know from her profession (proprietor of a bar heavily implied to be a gay bar by the neighborhood it's in), appearance (poofy permed hair, exaggerated make-up), and demeanor (feminine speech style, a bit flirtatious) that she's AMAB and choosing to present herself in a feminine fashion. By writing Jirou to ask, "Aren't you a man?" in an exasperated fashion, the writers have put her gender presentation in a boke role--suggesting she's over-the-top, exaggerated, comedic. It's not great. I completely understand why readers find it offensive (and it is) even while I don't think the writers intended it that way. Ultimately, it would have been great to see other explicitly LGBT+ characters portrayed without the joking angle.
With that said, I'm not entirely unhappy with her character. She is a stereotype, but the authors have chosen to take only the visual elements of the stereotype and leave the rest on the cutting room floor. In other works of fiction, characters like Urumi are often hypersexual to the point of being in-universe creepy, especially towards underage boys. Other times, characters like her may be eccentric or off-putting in other ways. However, that's not at all the case here. Urumi seems to play a helpful big sister/aunt role in Jirou's life, and he's clearly comfortable enough with her to spend the night at her bar.
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(BB/MTC+ chapter 17. "Sorry, but can I shack up here again tonight?" "Of course you can.")
While she seems to engage in some sort of a bohemian lifestyle, as evidenced by the alcohol and smoking, it isn't anything outside of what many of the other characters do. Additionally, while she isn't drawn in a flattering fashion in scenes where she's playing up her persona (which is par for the course with any character in this series, regardless of gender), there are plenty of neutral shots of her being serious. Finally, the art is never outright rude--that is, she isn't drawn exaggeratedly masculine or flamboyantly...snakey? I don't know how to describe this to anyone who's lucky enough to have never seen this--clearly LGBT+ AMAB characters drawn with noodly limbs and huge, overblown lips winding around male characters.
Maybe because I see so much worse continuing to be produced in this day and age, I feel like Hypmic could have done a much, much worse job with this character. She overall plays a positive role and is treated with much the same care as other side characters. It's unfortunate, then, that the writers have chosen to make her gender presentation the subject of a joke.
In other frustrations, I heavily dislike the unnecessary gender divide in background characters. All punks and other background baddies are male, whereas all adoring fans are female. (But Rhyme Anima has done an interesting job of subverting this!) The vast majority of other background figures fall into strict gender roles, which is likewise disappointing. It appears that diversity may be an accepted trait for none but a lucky few that form the main Hypmic cast.
All in all, I don't think Hypmic's portrayal of gender roles is groundbreaking, nor do I think it's fair to suggest that all Japanese pop culture plays into strict gender roles. There are certainly many Japanese works, popular or otherwise, with much more interesting things to say about gender. However, when compared to the vast majority of the titles that cross my desk on a regular basis, I notice and appreciate the level of care put in to Hypmic's commentary on gender roles. The work consistently reinforces the notion that it's okay to be your own individual, no matter how that plays into your gender, and I find that freeing. That's a message we could all do to hear more often, regardless of culture and language.
TL;DR: Oh no, my rapidly approaching deadline. :)
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