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#so then I often get hit with the need to write more of it myself
tiger-moran · 5 months
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I just got hit with the really strong urge to write D/s smut again
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yourmidnightlover · 2 months
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forever?
pairing: mob!bucky x reader
summary: after being forced into a marriage you didn’t want, you become very cautious of your new husband out of fear of what he’s capable of when one of his employees makes a move at a dinner meeting.
warnings: anxious reader, threat of domestic violence (reader is just worried abt it), groping, please let me know if i missed something or need to add anything!
a/n: reader is very timid in this. i know a lot of people like a reader who doesn’t take shit and stands up for herself, but i often find myself in situations where i just shut down and don’t know how to respond… so this is kinda inspired by that feeling
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two months out of forever.
two months of what seemed like wedded bliss from the outside.
in reality, that “bliss” included sleeping in separate rooms, never even seeing each other unless necessary to make appearances for either of your parents. 
the ones who arranged for this to happen in the first place. 
you were just glad you were able to have your time for yourself. you thought you would use the time to continue writing for your book, but you’ve hit a serious case of writers block. so lovely. 
on the bright side, he wasn’t as controlling as your few friends had made it seem he would be. 
they had painted this picture of a monster in your head. a man who would loom over your presence during every waking second. a man who was controlling and wouldn’t let you have a personal life or secrets.
so far, he’s been the opposite. 
for some reason, that still leaves you unsteady. 
because they also painted him in a very violent, angry, red light. 
but maybe he had a mistress. if that were the case, he truly didn’t respect you or your family. it didn’t seem like bucky to do that, though. he wouldn’t ruin a business deal that benefitted him so much. 
the reason you married him was because your father’s finance business was going under, drowned in debts while the only options were to sell to the barnes’ or the rumlow’s. the barnes’ seemed the lesser of two evils.
the only way to smoothly transition your father’s business to be under the barnes’ control without raising any question of your father’s capability was to marry. if any questions were asked about why your father sold his company, the not so good side of the finance industry would trample after your entire family. the barnes’ would get a new company and their many clients, while your family wouldn’t become entirely blacklisted by the entire country, would be putting your family under the barnes’ protection, and there would be less questions asked as to why the company had been merged.
you had a few months of “leaking” images of you and bucky together into the tabloids to prepare the public for the news of such a big marriage. some were photos of you and bucky holding hands while walking. a couple of you at a restaurant smiling. a few staged kissing photos… those may or may not have been your favorite.
those times spent with him, in all honesty, weren’t bad at all. going for walks together at sunset, dinner dates, feeling his lips against yours…
you had gotten to know more about his childhood that the tabloids didn’t feel was important to cover. his favorite subject in school and how he actually lost his arm so many years ago. you learned each others’ fears and worries in life. your favorite thing to learn about him, however, was what he truly wanted in life. 
peace.
a couple weeks after the wedding, a few photos of the reception were once again “leaked” in order to sell the “too in love to wait” bit that everyone had started assuming upon seeing the first few photos of you and bucky together. 
but all of your history with him flew to the back of your mind as bucky knocked on your office door. 
“come in,” you replied hesitantly, not sure what he wanted from you for the first time since your wedding. he stepped through the threshold and stood at the doorframe. 
“there’s a work meeting tomorrow,” his hand remained on the doorknob, so stiff you’d think he might rip it off the precious white wood in seconds. “the men are meeting at the house. i wanted to let you know. the men in this business, they expect marriages to be of the… traditional values.”
you nodded with understanding, turning to face him with a forced grin. “so i should play the part of the doting housewife, huh?” no smile in return, so you bit back your humor in turn for matching his serious tone. “what food should i prepare, then? and uh, how many guests will we be expecting?”
“whatever’s easiest for you,” he shrugged lightly. “there will be 9 of us there.” with one final look in your direction, he left the office and didn’t return to say goodnight. 
-
the next morning you got to work setting the house up for the 6pm meeting your loving husband was hosting. 
you had decided to set up a buffet-style table outside of the main dining room where the meeting would take place. for the menu, you settled on simple grilled chicken with quite a few side options. roast potatoes, asparagus, sauteed carrots, green beans, and rolls. 
you were putting the rolls in the oven when bucky got home, seemingly entranced by the smell of all the food, heading straight to the kitchen.
“it smells amazing in here,” bucky called from the archway of the kitchen. you jumped slightly from the surprise, but swallowed down the shock and another weak smile. 
“thanks,” you nodded to the edge of the island where a large chalkboard sat, your handwriting neatly displayed on the board that listed all the food to be had. “the menu. i figured a variety would be nice, and who doesn’t like chicken, right?”
“vegetarians,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was telling a joke. but you knew better than that. “the men are coming in a little less than an hour. do you maybe want to change before they get here?”
you looked down at what you were wearing, a pair of blue jeans and a loose t-shirt clearly not worthy of someone who had married a barnes man. “right, of course. i’m sorry,” you finished setting the timer on the oven and ran upstairs to get yourself put together before bucky saw the tears trying to seep past your waterline. 
you settled on a black cocktail dress you had worn to one of your dad’s company events before the downfall… quickly swiping some makeup on to cover the exhaustion in your eyes and pulling your hair up to a more respectable updo rather than your typical messy bun. 
luckily you had become an expert at quickly getting ready from your time in university, as you were back in time to pull the rolls from the oven, but not before pulling on your apron. you’d be dammed if you got this stunning dress dirty right before this prestigious meeting. 
t-5 minutes before the meeting was supposed to begin and you could already hear lots of rustling from the formal dining room. you knocked on the closed doors before bucky opened the door for you. 
the men went silent as their gaze rested on you in the doorway. 
“the foods ready. buffet style?” your eyes didn’t leave bucky’s pretty blues, too scared to do anything wrong in front of his men. 
“that’s perfect, my love,” his hands gravitated to your waist before pulling your body taut against his, one hand moving a stray hair behind your ear before leaning in to whisper. “you look ravishing…”
as he pulled back, you were sure your blush was evident across your cheeks. you tried to hide it behind a smile, shrugging with a shy ‘thanks’ leaving your lips. 
“what do you say to my stunning wife, boys?” his hand squeezed your waist once more before turning to the other men, ‘thank you’s being echoed throughout the room as they stood and made their way to the kitchen to make their plates. 
in a matter of minutes, all the food was gone. you figured it was best they liked the food, even if you didn’t get to try any of it yourself like you had planned. 
you got started on cleaning everything up with earbuds in your ears, starting with the dishes already in the sink from when you were cooking. then, you were sure to place the dishes that the food was in inside the sink for you to clean before starting on wiping the counters, then sweeping, then mopping, and then back to the dishes. 
you didn’t realize that bucky had called for a break in the meeting, however. you were in for quite the rude awakening when you felt a pair of hands on your waist, but not the ones you were semi-familiar with. 
you turned around with a gasp, shock evident on your face as you tried to piece together whoever this man was. blond hair, blue eyes… definitely not steve though. you knew steve well and had seen him often. 
you pulled your earbuds from your ears in attempt to better understand what was going on. his hands were still gripping your sides, but you couldn’t necessarily escape his touch. you were backed against the sink. even if you could fight him, you’d likely lose to his strong grip. 
“is the meeting-is it over already?” your voice was so much more cowardly than you’d ever expected yourself to be. 
“no, no,” he shook his head. “just a little break, some of the guys were getting antsy.” you leaned back further, trying to create some semblance of space between you. “i figured i’d say a special thank you, on behalf of all of us guys in there.” he let one hand cup the side of your face and neck, his other hand trailing down from your waist, firmly grasping your ass with a sqeeze before you jumped at the invasion.
“i don’t-i’ve got it…”
“john,” he smiled grossly, as if he could convince you to go to bed with him.
“no need for a thanks,” you tried to remind him. “i did this for bucky. for my husband.” your eyebrows rose, trying to emphasize that his boss was also your husband. 
“i’m sure he won’t mind you getting a little bit of extra special attention, don’t you?”
then, a growling voice cut through the fear running through your veins. 
“i think he might mind.”
you turned to face bucky with wide eyes before facing john, wishing the tears welling in your eyes would just go away. 
his hands slowly retracted, stepping back with a chuckle.
“sorry, sir,” he smiled before turning to face your husband. “she was just telling me how she wanted some extra attention, weren’t you, toots?” he tilted his head expectantly.
your mouth opened, nothing leaving in spite of your brain screaming at you. what would bucky do? would he take his side? would he believe you? would he hurt you? 
you’ve embarrassed him now… humiliated him in his own home. surely he’ll take action against you for this. 
your mind replayed stories your old friends had told you about him. how he would lash out at men that betrayed him. how he never took shit from anyone who showed him any disrespect. how he was the kind of man to shoot first and ask quesitons later.
and now, in a way, you’ve both betrayed and disrespected him. or at least, that’s what he’ll think. 
you didn’t even realize tears were flowing down your face until your sobs were interrupted. 
“enough!” you finally looked at bucky before his eyes softened for a second before walking closer to you. “go to the room.” he ordered sternly. 
“but the dish-”
“i’ll take care of it,” he interrupted gravely, “go. to. the. room.” 
“yes, sir,” you nodded and swiftly left the room entirely, collapsing against the door once you had shut it, sobs wracking your body. you held your knees against your chest before trying to regulate your breathing.
he won’t hurt you.
he has to protect his image.
you’ve embarrassed him.
you’re his wife.
you’re his business deal.
you’ve humiliated him.
he’ll hurt you.
you didn’t know how long it had been since the incident. 
your sobs had subsided. you had, at some point, moved to your bed. you were still rocking your body back and forth, trying to self sooth. 
and then there was a knock at the door. 
your body instinctively jumped at the sudden noise, although it wasn’t harsh in any manner, at least not one that you were expecting. 
he twisted the knob, slowly opening the door with slow movements. 
“i-i’m so sorry,” you began apologizing as soon as he stepped through the threshold into your room. “i swear-i swear i didn’t tell him that. i didn’t even realize he was there, i promise. i wouldn’t lie to you. i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry. please believe me.” your body was still rocking and you didn’t even notice he was as close to you as he was until you saw his hand moving by your head.
automatically, you assumed the absolute worst, your head ducking into your body like a fucking turtle, the meekest squeal leaving your lips mixed with a sob. your arms went over your head protectively, as if a bomb were about to go off.
“sweetheart,” his voice sounded so broken, so torn, so unexpectedly soft. 
you finally looked at him for the first time since he came in your room. his flesh hand was holding his metal one as if it were something that could kill. in ways, it was. 
“you-there’s no need to…” after looking at him for a second longer, you noticed that his eyes had tears that almost mirrored your own. “i would never, ever lay a hand on you. i’m so sorry for scaring you. i can’t…” he sighed. “i can’t believe i made you believe i’d ever hurt you.”
“i’m sorry,” you pleaded with him once again. 
“you have nothing to apologize for,” he hesitated to reach for your hands before settling on simply grabbing a spare pillow. “i came up here to apologize. for my tone earlier… i know john. he never knows his boundaries. i should’ve… you never should’ve been put in that situation. that’s my fault. that’s on me. and i will spend the rest of forever to make it up to you.” 
“you don’t have to-”
“no, my love,” he shook his head. “can i-can i hold your hands? please?” you, without hesitation, grabbed his hands yourself. “i need to make it up to you. you’re mine. you’re my wife. it’s my job to protect you, to keep you safe. and to have someone ruin that? to touch what’s mine in my own home? i’m so sorry.” he brought your hands to his lips, pressing at least ten kisses to each hand. he was so gentle and careful it was a good thing you knew better than to think it actually meant anything.
you were surprised, to say the least, at how tender he was being with you. 
how could you have ever thought he would hurt you? that he would raise his hand and swing? that he would cause you harm? he was here declaring that he would make up this incident for the rest of eternity when it wasn’t even his doing… 
“will you stay with me tonight?” his eyes lit up at the request.
“are you sure you want that?” he became a touch more reserved. “i don’t know if it’s a good idea since you were worried i would…” his voice trailed off.
“i’m sure,” you nodded before scooting over in the bed. 
sure, your marriage was arranged and didn’t stem from true love. you may not have talked outside of when absolutely necessary. you might have even been terrified of him at one point. 
but now, the thought of forever with bucky barnes didn’t seem half bad. 
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yzashaven · 1 month
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helloo, this is my first time requesting something but I have gotten obsessed with the way you write so-
I had this idea of a f!reader that is really not vocal in bed. And scaramouche absolutely GETS OFF to every little whimper and whine she makes because he doesn't hear it that often and makes an effort to hear *something* KDBDKDIEIDJD
Ok that's it, woohoo (with my luck i've already forgotten i even wrote this a day later so I'll just sign off with an M to remind myself, lmao)
~M
𝐌𝐎𝐀𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄
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꒰ 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ꒱ scaramouche x fem!reader
꒰ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ꒱ nsfw themes. cunnilingus. begging (both sides). fingering. penetration. kiss/bite marks. use of "baby" n "pretty girl". just the tip but not for long. he slaps his cock on your pussy like once + slight pussyjob?! (think that's it :3)
꒰ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ꒱ he just wants to hear your cute little moans. is there really something wrong with that?
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄—this was actually drafted like... a few days ago?? i don't remember when but suddenly, now, at a random time of 4am i felt like finishing it so here u go !! might be a bit off or something cuz i did it while half awake 😭 LMAO [not proofread]
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he's trying his best, he really is. all he wanted was to hear your pretty moans that tell everything he needs to know—that he's making you feel good.
scaramouche's tongue laps up your dripping arousal as his hands held your thighs apart. a soft sigh could be heard from him upon dragging a finger along your slit. that same finger soon enters your hole and finally, you let out a small moan. your voice was barely above a whisper yet he still heard it, "please moan for me, baby," scaramouche says and dips his head back down in between your legs. he plants a gentle kiss to your clit before speaking up again, "i really want to hear your pretty voice." he sounds almost... desperate.
he brings in another finger inside your pussy, curling them up at the perfect angle that he was sure would let you let out some kind of sound.
but all he got was silence.
a frown forms upon his lips but he won't give up. he leans down to suck on your clit all the while maintaining eye contact as much as possible. a deep blush appears across your cheeks, radiating heat on your skin. his hand makes it way to yours to guide it towards his head. you oblige in his obvious wishes and let your fingers tangle in the soft locks of his hair.
scaramouche pushes his fingers a bit deeper within you, in hopes that the tips of his fingers hit your sweet spot ever so slightly. he wants you to be all needy for him. surely that'll get you talking, right?
after some time, he found himself already lost in the sounds of your cute whimpering whenever he thrusts his fingers inside. "...'m cumming, scara..." you quietly gasp out as he began to absolutely devour you. he's acting like he hasn't eaten in days (which he doesn't even need to do!) "cum on my tongue, baby. cum for me."
you let the waves of pleasure wash over your body and bit by bit, moans began to continuously be drawn out from you. he smiles and lets out a low groan; upon standing up, you could clearly see how hard he was as he was stroking the length of his cock. slowly working it up from the base up to the tip.
he teasingly slaps his cock against your folds, eliciting a few good whimpers from you. since he felt like teasing you further, he slides the length of his dick along your slit. the head of it entering your hole every now and then but never fully settling inside you.
"tell me you want it." he spoke in a low and sultry tone.
"i want it." you replied upon throwing the last bit of your dignity out of the window, "i want you, scara. please..." a soft smile curls up his lips. affectionate kisses on your forehead and temples as he easily slid his cock inside. every sweet little sound you let out seems to drive him a little more crazier.
scaramouche's thrusts were slow, yet deep and precise—making sure that you felt pleasure rather than any hints of pain. "fuck, scara..." the way you gasped out his name with so much need laced in your voice. he fucking loves it.
"let me hear you some more, pretty girl." he whispers in between soft kisses on your collarbone as he felt like marking you with his kiss and bite marks. the feeling of that along with the head of his dick reaching your deepest parts sent shivers throughout your body.
he's glad to know that he's making you feel good.
and now he wants to fill you up for being such a good girl, all for him.
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saerins · 6 months
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°୨୧ NO CONTEST
+ kaiser x f!reader | wc 2.8k | content: fluff, friends to lovers, slight hints of jealousy, mentions of alcohol, they go clubbing
notes: help me i think i made myself fall for this guy even more after writing this shit for him > ⤙ <
summary: being just friends doesn’t mean much when neither of you really want to keep it that way. problem is, will either of you make the first move?
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SPOTTED: KAISER-KAIA DUO HIT THE STREETS, NEW BUDDING ROMANCE?
“i like you though, y/n.”
it’s spring and the weather outside is the nicest it’s ever been in a while and you have every chance to enjoy it except for the fact that dear michael kaiser is lounging on your couch, rifling through the magazine he got in the mail.
“right, haha, very funny,” you mumble sarcastically, slumping down onto the other couch where kaiser isn’t sprawled all over.
sometimes, you think it’s funny how he’s portrayed as this hot, sexy, confident soccer player who can do no wrong when it comes to matters with his looks, but then in private he’s like… well, this. his bed head’s a mess, his room slippers are the fluffy-fuzzy kind, and much less high maintenance than everyone makes him out to be. (but you have to stop yourself from staring because kaiser doesn’t sleep in anything but his sweatpants during this season and well, where his abs are concerned, he’s definitely got no problems there.)
kaiser sighs in the overdramatic fashion that’s probably his trademark right about now. “y/n, y/n, what do i have to do to make you believe me?” he turns around, smirking at you as he raises a brow. maybe it’ll work on his countless fangirls, but after being friends with him for over six years, you’re probably immune to it.
“maybe you can just shut up and get ready for your event later.” you roll your eyes, sauntering to the kitchen to get yourself some breakfast, automatically making two of everything because kaiser loves to crash your apartment in the morning. (he really does need to learn about personal space.)
breakfast preparations go quietly. kaiser listens to you—he shuts up and starts getting ready for his event before coming back into your apartment, all fresh and ready to shamelessly eat the breakfast you made, staring at you from across the table whenever you’re not looking like he always does.
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“kaiser-kaia duo hit the streets, new budding romance?”
“miko, don’t tell me you’re reading that gossip rag too,” you whine, looking for any excuse not to dive into your pile of work for the day.
your colleague swivels her chair over to your cubicle, looking around to make sure your bosses aren’t around to witness the both of you slacking off. “hey, isn’t he your friend? give me the tea! are they really dating?”
leave it to miko to get all excited about dating rumours. you really don’t know what’s so special about them—kaiser’s gotten so many of them ever since, well, forever. even before he became a soccer superstar.
you remember what kaiser said in the morning. “i like you though, y/n.” always ready with that smooth tongue of his. that aside, if he really was dating someone, you bet that they’d be staying over with him more often than not, and there’s really no harm in rejecting a rumor as opposed to confirming one.
“nope, they just happened to be waiting for a cab at the same spot.” and paparazzis love to snap a shot from misleading angles. now that you’re really looking at the article, they managed to make it look like kaiser’s kissing her cheek. you find yourself rolling your eyes at it and looking away.
miko sighs, leaning back against her chair. “man, that sucks, they look cute,” she comments, scrolling away from the online article before she gives you a suspicious side eye. “hey, you sure you’re not dating him?”
you still a little at the sudden line of questioning before turning your attention back to your laptop equally quickly. “if i was, i wouldn’t be so free all the time now, would i?” a response to which miko shrugs off and decides to let go of as she retreats back to her desk.
as much as you love miko as your colleague, you haven’t been as honest with her as you could. she knows you’re friends with kaiser, yeah, but she doesn’t know he’s basically your neighbour. she doesn’t know that he comes over all the time whenever it’s off season. she doesn’t know that the both of you have fallen asleep next to each other on the couch.
she doesn’t know a lot of things—like how your heart’s beating erratically now at the notion of being someone special to kaiser. it’s always been sweet nothings that you thought would stay that way, and you’ve always been short at realising your own feelings, so much so you were, once upon a time, positive you had zero romantic feelings for your friend.
now? you’re not so sure anymore.
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seven days pass and kaiser’s been pestering you every single moment you’re free—like he always does—but today’s kind of a special day because it’s your birthday and it’s an hour away from your dinner party yet you’re not even close to ready.
your hair’s wet, you’re still in your loungewear, you have no idea what to wear and kaiser’s just flipping through the channels, half bored to death. for his part, at least, he’s already ready.
it’s not even fair how he takes just half an hour to get ready and yet he looks like he does. hair perfectly soft, and he’s wearing a nice black suit with a wine red dress shirt underneath, his tattoos peeking out here and there. if he wasn’t a soccer player, he’d definitely either be a model or a very charming businessman.
“too handsome for you?” kaiser smirks as he catches you looking, and you have to spin on your heels to avoid getting flustered (to his face).
“shut up, kaiser, i haven’t found anything to wear,” you groan, making a beeline for your bedroom. you really wished your friends hadn’t booked a high-end restaurant for little old you—then you could literally just throw on anything and be done with it.
kaiser, completely comfortable in your apartment, strolls into your bedroom with you and starts browsing through your closet, ignoring your protests. within seconds, he finds a dress and holds it out, a lopsided smile filling his face. “how about this?”
the wine red satin dress hovers in front of you, and you have to swallow the lump in your throat before you speak, feeling the line getting blurry. “trying to get me to coordinate outfits with you or something?”
you’re trying your best but your voice quivers just a little bit, and you bet that smug smile on his face that he can hear it. “why not? we look good together,” he shrugs, as though it’s no big deal but it’s hard to stop yourself from overthinking when lately the two of you have been flirting more often and serious than usual.
rolling your eyes and trying not to be too late, you grab the dress from him and change into it, spending some time to yourself to recollect, internally cursing him for being able to make you this flustered over nothing at all.
by the time you come back out into the living room, hair all done and accessories settled, this time, kaiser’s the one who’s caught staring, shameless in the way his eyes drag over you from head to toe. you’d tease him for it, but you’re not entirely sure you’re ready for his comeback so you refrain.
as you grab your go-to black heels and sit down to strap them on properly, kaiser’s quick to offer a hand, his lithe fingers taking your heel from you, slowly inserting your feet, his eyes lingering on your face and his thumb rubbing circles around your ankle. your eyes are glued to his own, and somehow it makes you even more nervous when he’s not joking around. when he looks at you like this—serious, like he’s trying to tell you something without saying anything at all.
the way he ties the straps are gentle and precise, tight but not too tight that it’ll hurt you. you’ve jokingly told him to help you tie your shoelaces before but he’s always refused. yet now he’s helping you put on your heels on both feet without saying a word and the way his hand lingers on your calf when he’s done is enough to make you melt.
on some other day, you’d joke with him and get him to let go. today, you’re silent.
kaiser chuckles, though, his hand casually brushing up your calf slightly before he pulls away, gently patting your head as he gets up.
“let’s go.”
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dinner is agonising, enjoyable, agonising.
it’s nice; being seated around a table, enjoying small talk and nonsense with the same group of friends, catching up with people like kaiser and ness who’s been away a lot because of their profession.
yeah, that part’s nice. what’s agonising about it all is how close kaiser is to you, how his right hand casually drapes around your shoulder from time to time, shifting down to your thigh sometimes, making you go crazy.
it’s not like the both of you haven’t been close before, but you feel like maybe this time, it’s different. it’s not just the close proximity, it’s the intimacy of it all that has you inwardly keeling over. what’s worse is that you think you want it, him. in a way you didn’t think to think of before.
“you sure you’re not dating him?”
miko’s words ring repeatedly in your head. somehow, your answer’s changed from nope to you sort of wish you did. you bite your lower lip, absentmindedly laughing along even if you didn’t hear the joke at all.
“you okay?” the voice in your ear nearly makes you jump up from your seat.
on your right, ness is grinning as he looks at you, like he knows something’s going on in that little head of yours. you shake your head anyway, but ness shoots you a knowing smile as his eyes briefly shift to kaiser’s arm around you before winking at you.
fuck, is that really enough to make the heat rush to your cheeks?
“y/n?” one of your other friends calls out, snapping you back to the foreground.
“what?”
“next stop: new club downtown! orange, or grape, or whatever the fuck name it is,” he drawls, excited, “you up for it?”
before you even get the chance to agree, one of the other guys speaks up. “hey kaiser, speaking of clubs, didn’t that dating rumour come up recently? the one with, uh, kaia?”
readjusting himself, kaiser pulls away from you, taking a swig of his beer. “don’t remind me,” he groans, sighing.
“why not? she’s hot!”
there’s a knot in your stomach that you can’t explain.
beside you, ness snickers. “tell ‘em what really happened, stupid.”
that manages to pique your interest.
kaiser sighs, resigning because he knows they’ll just keep hounding him if he refuses. “she tried her luck, that’s all,” he settles for something vague, trying to escape.
ness, however, ever the kind soul, expands on his words, making sure you hear every single bit—you’re not sure if he’s trying to egg you on or just see your reaction.
“please, she was trying to get you to send her home, no?” ness’ explanation gets a reaction out of the group, and you’re glad you all have a private room here so no one outside can hear you, servers included.
“shut up.”
“kaia and kaiser—has a nice ring to it.”
and even though kaiser doesn’t entertain that, you feel a little envy brewing inside you—one that you fail to drown out.
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orange is filled with people; combining the fact that it’s holiday season and it’s the club’s launch night, it’s safe to say that there’s barely any room to breathe. still, your friends are all drunk on the alcohol, pulling one another to the dance floor, leaving you and kaiser at the table.
he’s still close as ever, his bare hands brushing yours, one of his arms around your waist, keeping you close.
“dance with me,” he raises his voice over the music. the way he smiles so genuinely now managing to make your heart skip a beat.
suppressing your grin, you wordlessly agree, letting him lead you onto the dance floor. he meanders the crowd skilfully, as expected considering he and ness are frequent clubbers. it’s only now that you realise you’d never gone to such a place with him, which is surprising considering your many years of friendship.
as you join your friends on the floor, you can’t help but notice how kaiser sticks to you and you alone, his hands on your waist, trickling up and down your arm, dancing along behind you. even surrounded by people, he commands your attention alone.
unfair.
but to kaiser, it’s unfair too. it’s not fair how you’re so pretty, it’s not fair how you’ve always been. it’s not fair that he’d fallen slowly for you, and now so so deep. how is it fair that even when he tries to forget you, when he tries not to mess with the friendship, that he ends up falling even more?
his eyes stay glued on you, shamelessly making sure no other man gets their hands on you—it’s fucking insulting how they try to get you to dance with them even when he’s right there. lucky for him, you’re not budging. you’re there. with him. only him. even if your other friends are here.
it’s just him and you and he wonders what you’re thinking. are you as flustered as he is right now? kaiser hasn’t even let himself drink more than one mug of beer, all because he knows this is a night he’d rather remember than risk forgetting.
“hey, isn’t that kaia?” one of your friends excitedly points out and kaiser follows his line of sight.
it is her, and she’s heading this way—but that’s not really important because what’s important is how kaiser noticed you’ve stopped dancing, awkwardly trying to shuffle away. it’s kind of funny, he swears he can tell that you might feel the same way about him. maybe you’re just more stubborn than he is.
so he keeps his arms around you, pulling you close.
“stay with me,” he whispers into your ear, and he suppressed a grin from the goosebumps searing across your neck. he guesses it’s a good sign you’re listening to him.
“kaiser, what’s up?” kaia greets, evidently trying to move for a hug but kaiser’s not budging, squeezing you closer instead.
he nods at her in acknowledgement before letting the rest of his friends throng around her for a photo.
once she’s sufficiently busy, he hears you speak up. “were you dancing with her that time too?”
kaiser manages not to snicker at your obviously jealous tone, “yeah, we went with a few other people after our shoot was wrapped up.”
you nod, and all kaiser can think of somehow is that your shampoo smells so nice. “oh, sure you don’t wanna dance with her again tonight then?”
are you testing him? it’s cute.
he shakes his head. “nah, i danced with her a lot that time already,” he teases, though he’s not too sure whether you’d take it like a joke like it was meant to. when you don’t respond, he chuckles, gently turning you to face him. “there’s one thing i didn’t do with her though.”
kaiser’s face is just inches away from yours, the tip of his nose brushing against your cheek and he’s aware that everyone in the close vicinity is looking at the two of you but he doesn’t care.
honestly, he has to admit, he’s dreamed of doing this a thousand times over, always hovering between the decision to ruin this friendship or not. the thoughts were there whenever he’d wake up next to you on the couch. or whenever all of you met up and one of the other guys would throw their arms around you. or in the mornings when you made breakfast. there’s not a time he’s been sure whether this is what you wanted too.
hell, he’s not even sure now. but fuck, if he wastes another minute not trying he thinks he’ll kill himself for it. and he’s hoping to god this isn’t a dream because you’re not pulling away and you’re not treating this like a joke and it can only be because you want this too.
without another thought, his lips press against yours and it’s like the loud music drowns out into the background, getting lost and fading away. suddenly it’s like you’re the only thing in front of him and fuck, you taste even better than he can ever imagine.
“fuck,” he exhales, cheeks pressed against yours. “be mine?”
still breathless from that kiss, you chuckle weakly and nod, both of you earning whoos all around the room. (you make a mental reminder to tell miko before she winds up seeing this online before you get a chance to explain.)
and just like that, kaiser’s finally gotten the girl of his dreams.
“want you, baby, just you.”
the next morning, the two of you make the headlines.
LIPS LOCKED: KAISER & RUMORED GIRLFRIEND SHOW OFF THEIR LOVE
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klovesyall · 2 months
Note
Oh my. My brain is full of ideas, but I can't write.
Spencer, but it's his first time showering with his gf? Either she casually invites him to join her, or maybe she's also a member of the BAU and was injured and needs some assistance?
AN: oh absolutely hun. I wasn’t sure if you wanted nsfw or fluff so I went with fluff for a safe option. Also I’m so sorry if this lowkey sucks. This is definitely my first rodeo with writing and I know it’s not perfect but I hope you kinda like it?
OK MORE RECENT AN: im sooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry this took so long. I don’t even have an excuse. And I’m so sorry because this is ASS. But I feel bad not giving you anything so here you go
Warnings: Fluff, swearing? , talk of nakedness and stuff idk
————————————————————
Spencer had been extra protective of you ever since you got hurt. He didn’t want you to lift a single finger, even though you were perfectly capable. He made you food , carried your bags, hell- he even offered to carry you if your crutches got too annoying. All of this to say , he was willing to do anything to make you comfortable.
“Spence, I’m gonna take a shower.” You say with your back turned as you grab some pajamas out of the dresser drawer.
“What?” His voice was filled with concern, as it often was. When you turned around toward him he had the same amount of concern written on his face
“I have to shower Spencer, my hair is so dirty it looks wet.” You haven’t washed your hair in a few days, relying on dry shampoo and braided hair to get you by.
Spencer was thinking for a moment , you could tell by the way his brow furrowed slightly. He finally answers “Let me help you.”
You were slightly taken aback by his response. Spencer wasn’t usually confident enough to initiate or out right suggest anything intimate. And taking a shower together was definitely intimate. Not to say you were opposed to the idea though
“Are You Sure Spence? You do know I shower naked right?” Your tone was some what joking but also kind of not. Regardless you hear the little chuckle you love so much
“Yes I know. I dont want you to fall and get hurt any more than you already are. If you don’t want me to thats fine I just-“
You cut him off
“That would be really helpful, thank you.”
You see Spencer’s worry ease from his face and it’s replaced with a little curve of his lip
You give him a little smile before returning to grabbing your pajamas and walking to the bathroom. Spencer graciously follows you inside, locking the door behind him. When you turn to the counter , Spencer is quick to slip past you, turning on the shower for you.
“Do you take your showers warm or hot.” Spencer asks as if it’s so incredibly normal
“Uh hot I guess? It’s ok I can-“
He stops you when you begin to walk over
“Let me Take Care of you. Please.”
You sigh “you know I can do it myself.”
Spencer takes a step toward you, placing his hands on either side of your shoulders
“I know, but I don’t want to risk anything. You do so much for me and you deserve to be helped as well, especially when your injured. So please let me do this for you.” His voice is soft but you can tell how strongly he feels about this
“Ok, I’ll let you handle it.” I say
He smiles “can I take your clothes off?”
I Nod “You don’t have to ask.” You said that a lot, and it didn’t matter how many times you did. Spencer always asked
He grabbed the bottom of your shirt and you raised your arms. He pulls the shirt off your body and folds it before placing it on the counter. He does the same with your pants. Your standing only in your underwear now
“Do you want me to do the rest?” You ask
He shakes his head “turn around for me.”
You turn so your back is facing him and he unclasps your bra, sliding it down your arms until it hits the floor. He hooks a finger under your underwear on either side of you, pulling them down and helping you step out of them. He smiles when he meets your eyes again
“See something you like pretty boy?” You raise an eye brow in a teasing manner.
“Always.” He replies before walking you over to the shower. Holding his hand, you slowly take a step inside until your under the water. Once inside , Spencer takes a step back and sheds his clothes as well before joining you in the shower.
Spencer had ensured that you had a shower bench installed into the bathroom you shared when you moved in together. He said it was for safety reasons but, you still wondered if it might be for other things.
“Sit.” Spencer says, leading you to the bench.
When you sit down he detaches the shower head and wets your hair. When it’s what he considers wet enough, he lathers shampoo into his hands and begins to massage it into your scalp.
This man has very capable hands, many uses. And washing your hair just got added to the list of them. You close your eyes from a moment letting out a contended sigh
“Feel good sweetheart?” Spencer asks gently
“Mhm, definitely.” You reply, barely opening your eyes.
Spencer rinses out the shampoo and conditions your hair. He helps you wash off and when you finally stand , you wrap your arms around his neck. His hands lace around your waist
“Thank you Spencer, you’re an angel.” You say pressing little kisses to his jaw. You can see the blush creeping on Spencer’s face.
“You’re welcome, I’m always happy to help you.” He says peering down at you.
The two of you exit the shower. Wrapping towels around your selves and getting dressed- well Spencer refuses to let you dress your self so he helps you. He even blow drys your hair for you because he knows you don’t like going to bed with it wet.
————————————————————
You lay in bed on your side facing him as he looks back at you. You reach out and brush a strand of his hair out of his eyes.
“You should stay home tomorrow.” Spencer says breaking the silence.
“Absolutely not. I’m perfectly capable of going into work. Plus Hotch would have my head if I didn’t go.” You say and Spencer sighs
“I don’t like the idea of you out on the field” he says once again with concern
“You’ll be with me. I’ll be fine.”
He sits up “I don’t want you to be fine I want you to be healthy.”
You sit up and scoot close to him “Spencer I’m going to work. If it makes you feel better I’ll stay back with Penelope and help her.”
Spencer relaxes a little “yea. Ok that makes me feel better. But don’t go doing anything stupid. That means no trying to entertain Penelope with” Spencer throws up air quotes “crutch tricks”
You groan and lay back down “whatever you say.”
You can hear Spencer’s little laugh as he turns off the lamp.
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mechaknight-98 · 2 months
Text
Paragon (NSFW) FT Yeji
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author’s note Yeji is super hot especially in this dress. Been meaning to write her and I think I hit the right notes for this one
I got the call that the villain Light Fury was rampaging through the city. I groaned and suited up. I flew to Downtown
“Oh, Paragon you finally arrive. I was getting worried you wouldn’t show.”
My head was killing me so I responded, “Look light fury it’s barely Tuesday and it’s been a long week so can we hurry up.” I watched as the Villainess hesitated when she locked eyes with me. They held…concern no impossible no girl would interested in me especially not a supervillain as attractive as Light Fury. Huh, that’s a weird thought. I pondered, “Do I have a crush on my Archenemy?”
Lost in thought I didn’t see the giant plasma bolt flying towards me. It knocked me into an abandoned warehouse. It hurt but I was processing several different emotions so I just sat there for a minute.
“Do I like light fury ?” I ask myself.“No impossible I’m a hero. She’s a villain, but she's so smart, industrious, funny and we’re so close.” I say to myself.
“Am I a villain?” I questioned as I had teamed up with light fury numerous times to beat up on the worst of the Villains . Despite her being a supervillain it was quite often our values aligned. Unbeknownst to me light fury was flying to the warehouse as I was having my crisis.
“Like I almost killed my landlord yesterday for price gouging. I was so close to snapping his pencil neck. Although gouging his eyes out would have been more poetic. Listen to me I am one step short from monologing about the evils of the world and I don't feel anything except satisfaction because I keep feeling these unbearably strong violent ideations and antisocial tendencies. Am I just cosplaying hero to satisfy these cravings for violence I’ve been having.” Light Fury overhears me and is immediately taken back at hearing the hero she’s been fighting for the past 2 years having some very villainous thoughts, but she’d be remiss if she didn’t admit she kinda liked it when I flew off the handle. What came to her mind was their team-up where I nearly beat Dr.Cataclysm to death. almost single-handed. She saw the fire alight in his eyes and his heart race when they faced him. The rage and fire she got from me seemed to invigorate her making her powers stronger in the fight. She moved her hand into a skin-tight suit as she began to touch herself as she listened
“Maybe I should just finish the fight with light fury, turn her in, and call it a day, but she looks so hot today that new suit she wears makes her body look so good…what am I saying that’s my arch-villain and I’m drooling over her like I’m in high school again. I need a girlfriend.” I lamented Light Fury began to touch herself more intensely as she listened to my inner turmoil. The thought of corrupting her opposite excited her to no end. “What the fuck is wrong with me today. First, the landlord raised the rent, I almost lost it, and now I am lusting over my Archenemy. Get a grip, Hugo. I know I should go back to therapy…no that didn’t stop the rage I feel though. The only thing that quells that has been doing all the superhero stuff, but I’ve been getting worse.” I lament further
Watching me agonize and ponder my position Yeji stifles a moan escaping from her lips. The bottom of her villain suit and panties are gone as she further gives into her desires. His fingers dive in and out of her starving pussy.
“Hugo” light fury whispers. The first time she’s heard the real name of her nemesis. It excited her, but not in the case of perceived advantage but to be more intimate with the object of desires she has long repressed. Light fury gets a little closer now feeling herself burning up from arousal over my mental crisis and me lusting over her. She was also coming to terms with her loneliness and seeing such a strong and fertile young man who desired her…well her body reacted accordingly. I hear rustling and turn to see Light Fury standing in the corner of the warehouse shadows covering her. I turn to her terrified I ready myself to fight but light fury approaches me calmly her hips sashay with an eerily seductive quality. Seeing her half-naked paralyzed me as my body demands to fuck her but my mind rages against the primal part of me. As always her gaze is intense on approach but not of hatred. I see only one thing in her eyes…desire
“Little hero has been having some less than heroic thoughts about me. It gets me a little excited” She coos as she closes in on me her body pins me to the ground. I stiffen everywhere.
I’m used to being close to her but never with this feeling between us. She wraps her arms around me and brings me into her embrace. “Shush your worries.” She comes close. My resolve is hanging by a thread we both want each other but I… I can’t bring myself to…”Come, little hero.” She whispered in a seductive tone, and the thoughts I had been suppressing broke the floodgates. I rip Light Fury’s mask and my helmet off and devour her in a fervent kiss. The fiery Dragon queen as she was known by many greedily accepted my advances.
I run my hand through her auburn hair as the kiss between us begins to turn more passionate. Light Fury’s claws extended as she tore into my armor leaving me bare before her. She broke our kiss to appraise my body. Her eyes stopped at my crotch.
“Hmm, looks lit “Little hero” isn’t so little.” Light Fury says with a smile. Her hands reach out to my cock and I groan.
“Oh fuck light fury.” I moan light fury smiles maliciously as she strokes me a bit harder. One of my hands ventures down to her folds eager to reciprocate her passion and lust
“Yeji.” Light Fury says
“Huh?”I question
“My name is Yeji.” Light Fury responds
“Fuck Yeji keep going.” I moan as she gets a particularly substantial grip on my cock. Yeji smiles wickedly.
“Beg for it little hero Beg for your archenemy to make you cum.” Yeji says as takes a violent grip on my…no her cock. My body and mind have fully submitted to her whims.
“Please Yeji make me cum.”
Yeji grins madly fawning over the power she holds over me
“You can do better.” She admonishes
“Oh fuck Yeji please let me cum. ride my cock tills it’s spent in your pussy. Fuck me till I can’t even remember my name.” I moan desperate to feel her pussy on my cock. Yeji smirks before mounting me. She moans intensely as I fill her to the brim.
“Little hero isn’t so little.” Yeji coos. I groan as she holds me in place. Her pussy pulsated around my cock attempting to properly adjust to it. She groaned, and then she began to ride me. it started slow at first as we still were feeling each other out pawing at each other and getting to know each other's body. hers was tight and firm but bowed and curved in all the hottest and best places. Yeji smiled as his hands dug into my flesh. "Big Hero likes his Archenemy's pussy." she asks I nod breathlessly. Yeji takes it as a provocation to increase her pace which is par the course for her. Yeji is as unrelenting in riding me as she is in our fights perhaps more so here.
"You know Paragon you saved me before I became Light Fury," Yeji said as she sank further down onto my rod before lifting her tight sexy ass and slamming it back down on my crotch. I groan as she orgasms then and there. I continue to thrust in her extending the endeavor as I question her previous statement.
"Really?" I ask curious about previous encounters.
"Yes When Dr Cataclysm was collecting women for his vile experiment I was one of the subjects. His greatest success and his greatest failure." He called me." My blood boiled at the mention of Dr Cataclysm he had killed one of my closest friends and it took everything in me to let the Hero's association deal with him. He was a monster with no morals or guidance. few villains were as reviled as he was. In my anger, Yeji squealed.
"Oh Hero you're being so rough now. I love it. Did I strike a nerve mentioning the Good Doctor? Don't worry Big Hero. It was not your fault. The association made you stay your hand." Yeji says unknowingly. igniting the fire within me that burned brighter than any star.
"That fucking bastard hid among us like a wolf in sheepskin. He mocked us. and led us on goose chases while he preyed on the vulnerable. I should have ripped his throat out when I had his neck in my hands." I growled as I thrust into Yeji. She smiled seeing the color of my eyes change to the burnt Umber they would get whenever I was truly angry. Yeji was in bliss as I took my anger out on her. I fucked her harder and harder my senses dulling as pleasure and anger washed over me while using her. Yeji's smile was wicked and bright as I continued to thrust in and out of her tight pussy.
"I can feel you twitching harder Hero. Are you about to cum. Do it Cum in my pussy. Do it." Yeji mewled with a needy tone. Her words sent me over the edge as I dumped a load into her wanton pussy. As our bodies calmed down we stared at each other a confusing wave of emotions washed over us as the sexual tension dissipated.
"I can't believe I did that," we said simultaneously as our rationale came back to us. Yeji looked at me with a Vulnerable look.
"I am sorry Paragon. I shouldn't have done that to you," she said remorseful. I dismissed her.
"No, I was a consenting participant." I rebuked "Fuck...Why did you have to be so cute." I lament. Yeji looks at me with a surprised shocked look before blushing.
"Is that affection in your tone?" Yeji questions sternly.
I nod, "Yeah you are stunning, and had the circumstances been different I definitely would have asked you out."
"What's stopping Hugo from Asking Yeji out?" Yeji asks me with an innocent look
"Really? you know what screw it we're already this deep in. Hi Yeji would you like to get coffee sometime?" I ask meekly. Yeji smiles a more wholesome smile and winks at me. "I'd love to Hugo."
"Does tomorrow work?" she asks. I nod. "Great. Give me your phone so we can share numbers. I nod and conjure my phone to my hand.
"Oh, that's so cool," Yeji notes smiling. I smile brightly at her back, and we exchange numbers. I conjure my civilian clothes while she does a Carter twirl and turns back into her nice form-fitting black dress I assumed she was wearing before.
"You're drooling." Yeji teased. I nodded and rebuked
"Yes. Do you see how hot you are? Or is it only on me to tell you?"
Yeji smiles before saying, "Flattery will get you everywhere."
"I hope so because my goodness you are stunning," I reply
Yeji smiles then her face goes stern. "Okay stop it. you're too sweet." I nod and reply
"I am sorry this is just my first relationship...Being a hero and with my actual job. it doesn't leave time for much...Cavorting with others." as I explain Yeji's face softens.
"I never considered that, but yeah you keep your identity secret," Yeji affirms and I nod.
we both walk out of the warehouse. I use my magic to repair it.
"You know I don't know how your powers work?" Yeji asked with innocent curiosity.
"Oh no missy I am not revealing the secret of my powers. What if you're just using me to get to know my weaknesses?"
"Hugo I let you cum in me...Quite a bit I might add I can still feel it sloshing inside of me." Yeji laughs. I laugh with her and reply
"Well, I can't be too careful. We are still enemies after all."
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letstripdotcom · 3 months
Text
9:00am- matt sturniolo x fem!reader
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summary: it took a while for you to get used to matt. he was hard to read and could come off as mean. once you got to know him you guys started to become friends. after a long night out matt falls asleep in your bed.
warnings: smut bc you already knowwww
-
“y/n this is matt, matt this is y/n” my best friend nick explains. from what i heard, matt was a pretty cool person and i i was excited to meet him. “hey nice to meet you” i said cheerfully
“hey” he said flatly, giving me a flat smile. he walked off into the kitchen as nick and i got situated on the couch. that was rude. i thought to myself. matt definitely didn’t seem like the person nick had told me about.
after a while, matt had got situated on the couch with us and helped us pick out a movie. once we finally decided on a movie we all liked, we turned of the lights and got comfortable. matt sat on the other end of the couch and i cuddled up next to nick.
after the movie ended we were all hungry. we eventually decided on ihop, since it was the only thing open at this hour of the night. “i’ll drive.” i offered, getting my keys off the hook.
when we got to ihop i found myself trying to make small talk with matt, trying to see the side of him his triplet brothers saw. i eventually gave up on the conversation, feeling it was very one sided. we ate our food in almost pure silence, then left.
“i’m tired so i’m gonna head home. goodnight guys.” i said as we pulled into the driveway. i dropped the boys off and drove home. the whole drive all i could think about was the way matt acted. he definitely wasn’t the sweet guy i heard about.
-
i hung around matt more often, trying to figure him out, but almost seemed impossible. when i would go somewhere with him and his brothers, he would sit quietly and let them do the talking. conversations with him were almost impossible, because he would try to cut them as short as possible
one day i’m particular, you felt like you needed to know more about matt, and why acted the way he did towards you. you thought out what you were gonna say as you sat on the triplets couch.
“hey matt can we talk for a sec?” you whispered, trying to not be a distraction from the movie that was currently playing. “uh- yeah- i- sure” he stuttered, being caught off by your question. you guys got up and went into the kitchen.
you sighed, and decided to just rip off the bandaid. “is there a reason you don’t like me, or…?” you spoke. “what?” he asked. “i don’t know nick just tells me how sweet you are and all so i just get the feeling you don’t like me” he soaked in my words.
“i don’t not like you, it’s just hard” he paused “ you know, meeting new people, it’s hard to- i don’t know” he sighed, running a hand down his face. “sorry” he muttered.
“hey no it’s okay” i said reassuringly. “i didn’t mean to come at you like that. i guess i was just upset.” he smiled at me softly. “you’re cool, y/n and i would like to be your friend.” “yeah of course” i said semi-cheerfully. we went back to the couch and continued the movie.
-
after that day me and matt became much closer. we talked more often and we found out we actually had a lot in common. we both liked to read and write. we had the same music taste, and we disliked the same people.
one night, me and the triplets sat out by my pool and just talked. hours passed as we changed subjects, talking about life, friends, dreams, and anything you could imagine. “ok ladies i’m going to bed.” nick announced.
shortly after, chris got up too. “i actually have somewhere to be, so see you never” neither of us questioned where he might be going at three in the morning, and we continued our conversation.
“hey i’m hungry, wanna hit up ihop?” matt asked. “i’m so glad you said something because i’m starving.” we got in matt’s car and made the drive towards the restaurant. the whole way there was a blast. we blared music through the speakers and laughed about whatever.
we sat in the empty ihop for about an hour, laughing at the dumbest things before we decided the employees were tired of us. we went out to matt’s car and talked for another hour and a half in the ihop parking lot. we eventually got tired and drove back to mine.
we went up to my room, walking quietly past where nick was sleeping in the living room. “wow chris has been gone for a while” i pointed out. “yeah” matt sighed. we talked some more, the time now almost 6 in the morning. i looked at my phone then i looked over at matt who was passed out in my bed. i didn’t bother to move him so i just closed my eyes and went to bed.
at about 7 in the morning i woke up to feel matt’s arms snaked around my waist. i felt a strong sense of comfort like this, but his breathing on my neck made me slightly nervous.
without knowing i fell back asleep, and woke up at around 9, matt’s arms still around me. this time something was a little strange. i adjusted my position slightly, making me feel matt’s hard on. fuck. i sighed trying to go back to sleep and ignore it, but i could tell matt started to wake up.
“you okay matt?” i muttered, half asleep. he groaned and started to grind his hips into my ass, turning me on a little. “fuck y/n please” he whined. “please what?” i teased.
“m’ so hard” he whined “i need you” he placed his hands on my hips and grinded into me harder. “fuckkk feels so good” he whined. even tho i could probably get off to the sounds he was making alone, i decided to do something more.
i turned over, and pulled away, making him whine at the loss of contact. he looked at me with desperate eyes. “do you trust me?” i asked. “mhmm” he nodded frantically.
i threw one leg over him to where i was sitting on his lap. i pulled down his pants and boxers, just enough to release his dick. i took it in my hand and gave it a good squeeze, making him moan. i pumped it up and down a few times.
i then stood up and discarded of the clothes on my bottom half. i sat back down to the position i was in before. i rubbed him up and down my folds. he whined desperately under me. “let me fuck you” he pleaded.
“okay” i said, turning over as we switched positions. he was now on top as i lied under him. he placed sloppy kisses on my collar bone and chest.
he reached down and his thumb came in contact with my clit. he rubbed to slowly in circles. i moaned and threw my head back into the bed. he hit the sweet spot, making me squirm. when he noticed my actions, he rubbed that spot repeatedly til i came.
“fuck so pretty” he sighed, removing my shirt and bra. “ i wanna see all of you when i’m fucking you” he smirked.
without warning, he started to push into me. he gave me time to adjust before ramming into me forcefuly “fuck mattt, someone’s needy” i joked. he didn’t reply and just continued fucking into me.
he got so deep at one point that you can see it poking my stomach. “fuck matt just like that” i yelled, disregarding everyone sleeping downstairs. i gripped his back with my nails, slightly drawing blood.
“fuckkk- feels s-so good. i can feel you clenching pretty girl” he groaned “taking me so well.” i could hear his words forever. he looked down seeing my fucked out expression. “you doing okay baby?” i tried to come up words to answer his question. “mhmmm” is all i could say. he smiled at me and tucked a loose hair behind my hair.
he thrusted a few more times before i reached my orgasm. i breathed heavily, and raked my nails dow on his back, leaving bloody scratches all the way down. “cumming matt f-fuck” i managed to say as i came.
his orgasm wasn’t far behind. his thrusts started to become more sloppy. he whined and his face twisted as he came inside of me. he pulled out, the both of us breathing heavy. “good morning” he smiled. i rolled my eyes and laughed. “sorry bout your back”
•••••••••••••••••••••••••
a/n- the end sucks but i liked the majority of it😍
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katiexpunk · 6 months
Text
Diner Girl | Pairing Joel Miller X Fem!Reader
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Summary:  You frequent your local dinner pretty often, not just because you love their pancakes with extra syrup, but because your best friend Sydney is a waitress there. You've heard her talk about her hot boss, Joel, every now and then but you've never had the pleasure of meeting him; that was until one morning, after getting unexpectedly laid off, you decided to drown your feels in syrup and love from your bestie. Joel offers you a job, and he shows you the ropes in more ways than one. Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Word count: ~7.3K Warnings: Pining, flirting, hard core tension, age gap (unspecified, reader is 30), 2000s style (needs a TW lol), 2000s texting, Joel is a little rough/bossy, Joel is actually readers boss, unprotected p in v (wrap it up, folks, or don't idk you're not gonna listen to me anyways), no creampie (a katiexpunk first, weird, I know), rough blow job, oral (m and female receiving) pet names, cum swallowing, praise kink, inappropriate use of syrup, one tit slap, Joel rips readers uniform off of her, readers former boss is an asshole, reader gets fired from her job, eating/references to food, did I already say flirting. Joel and reader fuck on a table in the diner. References to a health scares (for readers coworker). A bit of a dom/sub dynamic. Fluff. Porn with plot. Joel calls reader slut twice. Hilary Duff/A Cinderella Story gets mentioned, as does Jennifer Coolidge yelling for more salmon. Authors Note: The fact that I'm posting this doesn't feel real. This idea has been in my brain for so long, and I am happy and relieved to have it out in the world. Special thank you to @endlessthxxghts for holding my balls, brainstorming with me, and beta'ing this. And another thank you to @sydneyinacoma, my inspiration for readers bestie -- thank you for being my slutty, smutty, sister and for saving my ass with the first blowjob scene; I owe you one. ILY both. And to @hier--soir, Jessie, your beautiful way of storytelling inspires me and I often find myself HWJWTS (How Would Jessie Write This Smut). Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Notifications
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November 2004 
The blaring sound of your alarm disrupts your slumber, and you jolt awake with a sense of urgency. Shit. You’re gonna be late. Again. 
You stumble through your routine. You splash cold water on your face in an attempt to remove the pillow marks left behind on your cheek and smear on a mixture of lotion and face oil the saleswoman swears will make you look like you’re in your 20s again. You didn’t have the heart to tell her that that was only a year ago. You can see why she would have thought you were older as you look at your reflection in the mirror and the dim light from your tiny 1950s bathroom illuminates the bags under your eyes. 
God, you’re tired. Truthfully, you’ve been tired for months now; no amount of caffeine can seem to make up for your lack of sleep due to the demands of finishing up your Master’s and your boss who keeps you late at work what seems like every night now. 
You hastily get dressed and attempt to gather your thoughts. As you step outside into the cool November morning air, you bristle at the wind cooling the still-damp hairs that frame your face. You unlock the door to your beater and slip the keys into the engine. A sinking feeling settles in the pit of your stomach when a soft click, click, click, click noise reverberates through the air; the stubborn engine refusing to turn over. 
Shit. Not again. No!
Frustration mounts with each futile attempt to bring the engine to life. You slam your palms against the cool leather of your steering wheel, a long sigh escapes your lungs and your forehead meets the top of the wheel in defeat. 
You reach into your purse for your phone and quickly compose a message to your boss, explaining the situation. "Car won't start. Trying to figure it out. Going to be late. Sorry." With a sigh, you hit send, hoping for a sympathetic response.
The minutes crawl by as you anxiously await a reply. The familiar chime of your phone signals a message, and you eagerly check it. However, the words that flash across the screen only deepen your frustration: "This is unacceptable. You’ve already been warned twice. Don’t bother coming in, and consider this your termination."
The shock of the message hits you like a ton of bricks. 
Sure, you had been late a few times in the past year, but you figured your staying late almost every night would make up for it. Maybe if he paid a little more you could afford to fix your piece of shit car and you wouldn’t be late in the first place. 
Your eyes sting with disbelief, and your hands tremble as you clutch the phone. Anger and desperation dance the waltz in your mind as you fight to hold back the tears threatening to spill over.
You sit in your silent car, the quiet sounds of morning make you feel frozen in time, unsure of what to do or where to go from here.
You look back down at your phone again and type out a quick message to your best friend Sydney.
“U working this am?” before you can even put the phone down, it’s chirping to life with her response. 
“Hi babes! I am. R u?” her response reads. 
You don’t want to give her the full details over text – too much to type out – and instead, you settle on a short response. 
“No. Long story. Coming in 2 c u.”  
“Kk! C u soon <3” 
Your day was quite possibly off to the shittiest start ever, but you know there are three remedies to that situation. 
Your bestie, pancakes, and syrup. 
Lots and lots of fucking syrup. 
++++
The early morning sunlight spills through the diner's large windows, casting a warm glow on the worn checkered tiles. The aroma of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee envelops the air, creating a comforting ambiance that feels like a hug. The clinking of cutlery against plates and the low hum of conversations provide a soothing soundtrack to the chaos of your morning. 
Your usual booth is taken, so you settle for a seat at the bar. The stool is a little wobbly, but you have a nice view of the bustling kitchen and the seats next to you are empty. 
You watch Sydney pour a coffee refill for the older couple at the end of the bar before heading over to you. As she approaches, her infectious smile illuminates the space. Her apron, adorned with a patchwork of food stains and coffee spills, hints at the countless meals she’s already served this morning. 
"Morning, sunshine! You’re here early, you miss me?” she greets, grabbing a mug from the counter behind her before placing it in front of you and pouring you a steaming cup of coffee. 
You let out a little chuckle at her remark, knowing you just saw her last night.
You grab the mug in front of you with both hands, wishing you could shrink yourself and jump into the hot liquid like a hot tub; your bones cold from your long walk to the diner. Stupid car.
"No really, what’s up? Everything okay?” she asks, a hint of concern behind her words. 
“Not really. My car wouldn’t start this morning again, and John fired me after I told him I was gonna be late,” you respond, feeling the warmth of your frustration beginning to build in your chest once more. 
“What an asshole,” Sydney responds, “I’m sorry that happened, babe. He’s a real piece of work, you’re better off without him,” she continues. 
“I guess so. But I need a job, Syd. I don’t know what I’m gonna do now,” you respond, defeated. Your cheeks begin to heat and you think you might actually cry this time. You move the menu out in front of you on the counter to the side, and Sydney picks it up and removes the pen from behind her ear. 
“I could talk to Joel,” she offers, scribbling your order down on her notepad. You don’t have to tell her, she already knows what this situation calls for – pancakes with a lot of fucking syrup. 
“Joel?” you ask, leaning over the counter and looking both ways before you whisper to her, “as in the hot boss you won’t shut up about, Joel?” 
She lets out a little chuckle and you see a little twinkle of bashfulness in her eyes. 
“Yes, my ridiculously hot, mostly unreadable, but hot, boss Joel,” she replies. “Martha quit last week, something about wanting to spend more time with her grandkids, so we’re down a waitress.” 
You look at her face, pondering her offer as if you really have another option at the moment. 
“He’s here this morning, he’s in the back doing paperwork – I can go grab him and have him talk to you if ya want,” she says, nodding to the woman who just sat down at the bar, giving her a soft be right there hun. 
“Plus, it’ll be so fun to work together!” she says, her voice more energetic this time, preparing to go back into customer service mode. 
“I – yeah, alright, yes, I’ll talk to him,” you agree. 
She does a little jump and says “YAY!” and then gives you a big smile before pouncing off to greet her next customer. Where does she find the energy? 
As you wait for your emotional pancakes to arrive, you cradle your mug, the warmth seeping into your chilled skin, while you gaze through the window into the kitchen. Amidst the orchestrated dance of chefs and waitstaff, there stands a figure that looks like he doesn’t belong in the greasy kitchen of a diner – a towering presence, broad and resolute. His flannel shirt clings to the sculpted contours of his muscles and the determined furrow of his brow accentuates the intensity he’s directing to the clipboard in his hand. 
That’s him. That’s gotta be the ridiculously hot boss. That’s gotta be Joel, right? You feel a little tickle in your belly at the thought. 
You try not to stare too much, not wanting to be obvious, but like passing a car wreck on the freeway, you can’t seem to look away. You smile at the way he bites the cap of the pen in his mouth, only dropping it on occasion to make little notes or checkmarks. As you look at him doing his work, his eyes flutter up and meet yours. And in that brief moment, you feel a connection. The corners of his lips curl into a friendly smile as he stares back at you briefly, before once again dropping his gaze to the papers in front of him. Sydney did say he was unreadable; now you see why. 
Before you can process further, Sydney returns with your stack of pancakes and places them in front of you. “Thanks, can I have some syr–,” but before you can continue, she’s placing the container of the sweet liquid in front of you with a wink.
As you dive into your comfort food, savoring each bite, the door to the kitchen swings open, and Joel emerges. Tall and confident, he approaches your seat, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. Of course, he would come to talk to you now, right as you have a giant bite of pancake shoved into your mouth like an animal. The cherry on top of your already shit day.
"Sydney's been raving about you," he admits, a friendly smirk on his face. "Say’s you’re lookin’ for some work,” his voice is low and even, and his eyes briefly scan over the patrons before coming back to land on your face. For as hot as Sydney has been describing him as over the past few months, she forgot to mention how fucking sexy he sounds. 
You stare back at him, gulping down the remaining pancake in your mouth. 
Joel's eyes are trained on your face. What he really wanted to say was Sydney’s been raving about you, but she didn’t tell me how pretty you are. That was all the more apparent to him now that he sees you up close. 
“We’re down a waitress, and we could use someone with your taste in breakfast and impeccable timing, if you’re interested?” he says, watching you fidget with the napkin in your lap. 
“I – yes, yes I am very interested. I’ve never been a waitress, but I have great attention to detail and I’m sure I could pick it up quickly with the right guidance,” you say, straightening your posture, attempting to look more composed than he has you feeling right now. 
“Well great, we’ll have you trained up in no time,” he says, his gaze lingers on your features for a beat longer than expected before he swivels on his heels, heading back to the kitchen. However, after a few steps, he abruptly pauses, pivoting back around with a thoughtful expression, as if there’s more he wants to share.  
“Oops, my bad, sweetheart. Almost forgot my manners. I’m Joel, by the way. This is my diner,” he says, gesturing with one hand as if to show the space to you like you were seeing it for the first time, before offering his large hand toward you. You meet it with your own, giving him a firm shake while sharing your name. 
"Can you start tomorrow?" he asks, and you respond with a satisfied "mhmm," sealing the deal with a wink from Joel. "Great – be here around seven in the morning then, and we’ll get cha all trained up" he adds with a grin, one that teeters the line between professional and flirtatious. 
And just like that, in the midst of your syrup-drenched, emotionally charged morning you let out your first real smile of the day. 
So there were four remedies to your situation. 
Your bestie, pancakes, syrup, and Joel. 
You finish your remaining pancake, letting your mind wander off, secretly hoping Joel will be showing you the ropes in more ways than one.  
++++
The next morning, you get to the diner just as the sun is starting to rise, and you can't help but draw a parallel to Hilary Duff in A Cinderella Story, except now you’re the Diner Girl. 
While you may not be gliding around on gaudy rollerskates, and Jennifer Coolidge isn't screaming at you “MORE SALMON! We need more Salmon!” there's an undeniable charm to the whole scenario that makes you chuckle. The uniform Sydney handed you on your way out may not be the stuff of fairytale gowns, but the fabric that clings to your skin is a tangible reminder that you're stepping into a different narrative today, a narrative where you’re employed and your boss isn’t a total jerk. 
As you step into the diner, the familiar calms your nerves a bit. Joel, seemingly in tune with your arrival, glances up from behind the counter and shoots you a playful wink. Does he wink at all his employees? 
"Morning, sunshine! Ready for your grand debut?" he teases, flashing a bright smile coupled with an adorable set of dimples. You manage a shy smile in response, feeling nervous once again, but it has nothing to do with learning your new job and all to do with the beautiful man in front of you that you’ll be close to the entire day. 
Joel wastes no time guiding you through the diner's rhythm. With each task, he effortlessly blends instructions with charming banter, making the learning process feel less like work and more like a shared secret between the two of you.
"Here's where the magic happens," he says, gesturing to the row of gleaming coffee machines. "And trust me, making a perfect cup is an art; takes a lot of love."
“Aren’t these like super-fast automatic coffee brewers? You just load the beans and water and hit start?” 
"Alright, smartass," he retorts, a playful glint in his eyes, "Yeah, they are, but you gotta press that button with love, baby. That's what makes it good." 
Your laughter harmonizes with his, and you catch the infectious mirth in his expression – one hand on his hip, the other casually resting on the counter. Your eyes trace the veins on his forearms, distinctly visible beneath the rolled-up sleeves, and you can't help but admire the effortless confidence he exudes. 
“Do it with love. I understand,” you respond. 
“Good girl,” he responds. “Alright, next up – silverware rollin’, ya ready?” he asks.
"As ready as I'll ever be," you reply, a playful smile dancing on your lips, as you follow him to the back of the kitchen to grab a tray of freshly washed flatware. Returning to the dining room, he leads you to an empty booth tucked away from the prying eyes of coworkers, giving you the first taste of true solitude with him all morning.
"Now, watch and learn," he says, demonstrating a silverware roll that rivals any seasoned server. "The key is in the wrist action. It's all about finesse."
You mimic his movements, chuckling when your first attempt doesn't quite match his polished technique. He leans in a little closer, his warmth and encouragement almost palpable.
"See, you've got the basics down. But let me show you a little trick," he says, guiding your hand with his own. The close proximity sends a delicious shiver down your spine, and you can't help but revel in the extra attention to detail in his guidance. As he imparts his expertise, the thought of him taking charge and instructing you in other ways goes straight to your core. 
“You’re a natural,” Joel says, responding to your growing stack of rolled silverware. 
"You like taking orders?" he inquires, his gaze intense as he places the second-to-last rolled set in the pile you both created, and you complete your own. The implication behind his words hits you, and your eyes widen with surprise.
"Do I what?" you ask, a hint of uncertainty in your voice, unsure if your mind has ventured too far into the realm of innuendo to fully grasp his meaning.
"Taking orders – you seem like you'd be good at it," he says, pausing deliberately, well aware that he's causing a stir within you.
"You know, from customers?" he adds with a smirk, putting you out of your misery. 
“Oh. Oh – uh, well, I’m not sure, I’ve never tried it,” you respond. 
“First time for everything, darlin’. We can practice. I’ll be the customer, and you can take my order.” 
He flashes you a charming smile, making it hard to resist. "Alright," you agree with a shy grin, readying your notepad. You start “Good morning, Sir! Can I get you starte–” 
"Now, sweetheart, we've gotta do this right – stand up now, take my order properly," he interrupts, a playful tone in his voice. You shoot him a teasing side-eye, and he smirks, attempting to hide it by bringing his hand to his beard.
You rise and straighten your apron, and turn to face him at the table. 
“Good morning, Sir –” you begin again, “what can I get started for you?” 
"I'll have the classic bacon and eggs, toast on the side, and a steaming cup of your finest brew. Oh, and a side of your million-dollar smile, please."
You laugh at the last part, realizing this is exactly the kind of practice you need. "Got it, one bacon and eggs, toast, coffee, and a million-dollar smile," you repeat, jotting it down.
Joel nods approvingly. "You're a quick learner. Now, let's spice it up a bit. What if I want my eggs sunny-side-up, the toast lightly buttered, and the coffee extra strong?"
You take a moment to absorb the details, determined not to miss anything. "Sunny-side-up eggs, lightly buttered toast, and extra strong coffee," you recite confidently.
Joel grins. "Not bad, darlin’ – you’re a good listener.” 
“Maybe you’re just a good teacher,” you playfully retort. 
You don’t see it, but Joel palms himself beneath the denim of his jeans, attempting to adjust from the growing lack of space in them. 
As the morning rolls into the afternoon, you finish out the rest of your shift at the diner and make the walk back home.
As you lay in bed, you try to rationalize all of your flirting with Joel. 
He’s just nice. A Southern gentleman. He’s probably like this with all of his employees.
Unbeknownst to you, Joel lies in his own bed, also attempting to rationalize all of his flirting with you. He knows it’s wrong, but that doesn’t stop him from taking his heavy cock in hand to the thought of you that night. 
++++
After nearly a month of seamlessly navigating the diner routine, you've become a fixture in the cozy ambiance. The playful banter between you and Joel has escalated to shameless flirting – a subtle touch from a passed laminated menu, an intentionally clumsy moment with the cash register as an excuse to get a little closer, and the unmistakable sensation of his gaze lingering on you as you lean over to wipe down the booths. 
You even find yourself yelling out “Corner!” less than you should, hoping it might lead you to accidentally bump into him. 
It's not exactly backbreaking labor, though it can take a toll on you physically. But you find yourself enjoying it—the thrill of pushing through a lengthy shift, the rush that accompanies swift movements and juggling various tasks during the bustling hours, the familiar faces of regulars who now greet you by name, and the bonus of spending extra time with Sydney. 
For now, it's fulfilling enough. However, the more moments you share with Joel, the more it dawns on you that, at least when it comes to him, "enough" might never quite be sufficient.
++++
You normally work M-F, during the morning shift, and you’re grateful for the extra time on the weekends. You’re starting to feel like you might not actually need that facial oil now that you’re getting adequate rest. Take that, Mary Kay. 
One Saturday night, as you’re sitting on your couch watching Kill Bill, your phone buzzes with an unfamiliar number, and curiosity pulls you in. Joel’s husky voice on the line tells you who it is, but he introduces himself anyway.
“Hey, darlin’ – it’s Joel. Listen, uh, I know it’s your day off but I was wondering if you might be able to come in to work tonight?” he asks. 
Without pausing to let you respond, he lays it on thick, making a persuasive attempt to nudge you into saying yes, "The other servers are all tied up, and Suzanne had to call out, something about Mike not feeling right tonight, tight chest and all, so I told her to make sure he gets checked out."
"Oh no, that's awful. Yes, yes, of course, Joel. I'll be there in 15," you reply, hearing a sigh of relief on the other end.
"See you soon," he says.
"Oh? You're coming in, too?" you ask, trying not to sound overly excited.
"Well, someone's gotta make the food, right?" A little chuckle carries through the phone.
You remember it now; he had shared with you during that first day that working in the kitchen at night was one of the reasons he decided to take over owning the diner, his decision in part was fueled by his love of cooking. “Helps me remember why I started doing this in the first place," he had said. You were listening, but you were also distracted by him fidgeting with his coffee cup, watching him make small circles around the rim of it. 
++++
As the night descends, the diner transforms. The hustle of the day gives way to an intimate, dimly lit ambiance. Joel, donned in his chef's coat, greets you with a sly grin, "Well, look who's gracing the night shift. It's just you and me tonight, darlin'."
"Think we can handle it?" you respond, not really talking about the dinner rush, and he knows it. 
The air crackles with sexual tension as you and Joel maneuver through the shift. The need between you two is palpable; a desire only one thing could satiate, a hunger no amount of breakfast food could resolve.
The hours tick by, and the tile inside is illuminated by the soft glow of the neon sign outside. With the last order served, you both lean against the counter, a comfortable silence enveloping you. 
Joel breaks it with a casual remark, "Hungry?" 
"Starving,” you respond a playful edge to your voice, biting your lip. Joel’s eyes go dark as he stares at your plump flesh. 
You are hungry, but not for food.
++++
 Joel guides you to the prep station for a crash course on chicken and waffles. 
“Now, I know you’re a pancake kinda girl, but trust me darlin’ when I say these chicken and waffles will make you fall in love,” he says. Yeah, they just might. 
Joel, sleeves rolled up and a chef's jacket in hand, hands it over with a grin that hints at more than just a cooking lesson. The oversized jacket drapes over you as he gives a quick once-over. He chuckles, “you look cute like this, sweetheart,” he says before he heads to the fridge for supplies.
Returning with a bunch of ingredients, he starts showing you the ropes of making waffle batter. "You like to cook?” he asks, pouring flour into a bowl. His hands move with ease, adding baking powder, a pinch of salt, and a dash of sugar. You crack the eggs into the mix, and he throws in some vanilla extract, giving the batter a fragrant twist.
“I mean, I don’t not like to cook, but I can’t say I’m very good at it. I think I’m better with instruction,” you answer. You notice his gaze deepen, going darker almost, as he hands you a whisk. “Mix it up then. Give it your all,” he says, and you start blending. 
As you stir the batter, you sense Joel subtly adjusting his position until he's right behind you. He towers over you from behind. His arms gently encircle your body, and his backside hovers just an inch away from yours. He’s so close you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. "The secret," he murmurs in a low, almost whispered tone near your ear, "is to whisk it just enough, not too much. The air bubbles make it fluffy." His voice carries a blend of guidance and desire. 
His hand moves up to sweep your hair away from your neck, causing your mixing to slow as his fingertips graze the sensitive skin. Goosebumps erupt across your entire body, and he presses his lips to the soft skin behind your ear. 
“Joel,” you whimper, tilting your head to the side, giving him more access to your neck. 
“Keep mixin’ darlin,” he commands. You try, but the distraction of him on you makes you forget the simple action altogether. 
You close the gap between your bodies and take a small step back so your backside is firmly pressed against him. You let out a gasp as you feel the thick shape of him on your ass. He continues to nip at your neck, grazing his teeth along the sensitive skin there. You grab the counter in a poor attempt to steady yourself, and press into him harder, and he responds pinning your hips to the counter until his growing cock is all the more noticeable. 
“Fuck, darlin’,” he lets out a little hiss. “Can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to get you alone like this – haven’t been able to get it out of my head.” A soft moan escapes you, and in the blink of an eye, his hands find your hips. Before you can react, he swiftly turns you around to face him.
“You like being told what to do, baby? I’ll tell you what to do, but I’m not gonna tell you twice,” Joel says as his large palm comes up to hold the column of your throat, his thumb just under your jaw, tilting you up to face him. 
“So if I tell you to get on your knees, you’re gonna do it,” he says, voice low. “If I tell you to look at me, you’re gonna do it,” he continues, “and if I tell you to swallow, you’re gonna do it like the perfect little slut I know you are,” he says, dipping his face lower to you. You wonder if he can feel your pulse quickening under his hand, caught in a lusty daze fueled by hot breath and the sight of his blown pupils. 
“Tell me you understand,” he commands, not really questioning. 
“Yes - yeah, I understand,” you say, tightening your grip on his forearm, feeling the strength of his muscles still grasping you, pulling you closer to him. 
You think for a moment he might kiss you, his lips barely an inch from yours, but he doesn’t. 
“Good girl,” he praises, “since I know you’re so good at practicing, let’s do it again,” he suggests, releasing his grip on you. 
“Get on your fucking knees, baby.” 
You fall to your knees and feel the hard, cold tile against your bare calves. You position yourself beneath him and fold your hands in your lap, waiting for him to give you further instructions. He reaches down and brings his pointer finger down to lift your chin up to face him. He runs his thumb over your lips. 
“So pretty like this, baby.” He thinks you're pretty. 
As he releases you, you take that as permission and reach out to undo the buckle of his belt. You fumble with the cool metal momentarily, until it’s completely unbuckled before you begin to work with the zipper on his pants. You tug both his pants and his underwear down just below his hips, and his thick length springs to attention. 
Your breath hitches in your throat at the size of him. He’s big. His cock is already at full attention, red and weeping. Your mouth waters at the sight of it.  You look up at him, silently asking for permission to touch him, and he nods. “All yours’” he says, and your hand comes to wrap around the base of him. The thought of all of him being yours stirs something low in your belly. 
Before you can put him in your mouth, he grabs your wrist to pull you back up to your feet. 
“Too many clothes, sweetheart. Need to see those fuckin’ tits,” he growls, tearing your uniform off, almost bare save for your bra. You’re gonna need a new one. His eyes are glued to your chest, admiring the red bra you’ve been hiding under your uniform.
“As much as I like the way this looks on, I’d like it a helluva lot better off,” he says while hastily unclasping your bra, letting it fall to the kitchen floor. Your nipples harden in the cool air, entrancing Joel. “Gorgeous fuckin’ tits,” swatting your left one, in awe of the way it bounced on impact. 
“Back on your knees,” ordering you once again. You obey without hesitation, almost automatically. 
You stroke along his length, feeling the silky warmth of his skin, the heat, and the thick veins that add texture to each pass of your palm. You pause at the top of him and let out a little squeeze, until a small bead of precum forms at the tip. You lap it up, and Joel lets out a groan and his hands fall to grab the back of your neck. 
“Keep that mouth wide open for me, baby.” I’ll do anything you want as long as you call me baby, you reply in your head. 
You part your lips and tease your tongue around and then start sucking on the tip, slowly taking more in until you’re sucking on the full head of his cock and your tongue is whirling around it. Joel’s grip on the back of your neck tightens, and he gently cants his hips forward, urging you to take more of him.
You’re barely halfway down and the back of his cock is already on your throat. You start bobbing your head up and down, and Joel mutters a little curse under his breath and bites down on his lip. 
“Such a good girl f’me, takin’ this cock down your sweet little throat,” you moan around him, the sound reverberating against him, “yeah, this what you wanted, hmm? Needed your throat fucked like a slut?” 
Your thighs clench together, a syrupy mess of your own slick smears on your skin, and his filthy words add to the roaring ache in your cunt. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Joel as you notice him stiffen just a little more. How is that even possible?
You pick up your pace, pushing yourself to take more of him. He thrusts shallow but firmly, meeting your movements along his shaft. 
“Tha’s it baby, just like that…” his groans are lecherous, coupled with the profane sounds of you gagging on his cock. You’d listen to that on a loop if you could. 
He tightens his grip on your hair and pulls you off him. There will be plenty of opportunities for him to fill your mouth up, but right now, he has other priorities. He does take an extra moment to watch you wipe the saliva and precum from your mouth with the back of your hand. It’s a vulgar sight and he commits it to memory. 
He helps you to your feet, and your knees on fire from the harshness of the floor. You’ll pay for it later, but for now, the soreness is a small price to pay for the exhilaration you’re experiencing with your super hot, hung boss. 
Without warning, he scoops you up in his brawny arms and carries you off to the closest booth adjacent to the kitchen. With your back flat on the table, you feel the cool laminate tabletop on your skin and it adds a stark contrast to the warmth of Joel’s chest pressed against yours moments ago. 
Your upper back is on the small table, leaving just enough room for your hips to slightly dangle off the edge, Joel’s hips between your legs. Your head ghosts the condiment bottles at the edge and he holds you in place there, teasing you. 
He pauses to admire the way you look up at him, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your perky tits slightly falling to the side, a little sheen of sweat on your chest. He pauses to admire the way you still look flustered, but composed, knowing he’s going to fuck every ounce of that right out of you. 
Joel wants to untangle you like a knotted ball of yarn, he wants to claim ownership of every inch of your body, and he doesn’t want to wait any longer. 
He drops to his own knees this time, hooking his thumbs into your underwear to pull them down with him.. His face immediately finds your cunt, and he wastes no time before he lays a trail of soft kisses over your wet and waiting folds. He starts slow, a kiss here, a lap there, and eventually begins to pick up his pace. 
He sinks a thick middle finger into you, and your hips cant up at the welcomed intrusion and your back arches, unable to stay on the table. You feel his hot breath on your cunt, and let out a small mmm at the way he presses his forearm across your lower half to lower you back down to the table, to keep you still. 
His mouth returns to your clit to work you, and he adds another finger, twisting and working them both into you with precision. You’re so fucking close – your slow crawl to the cliff of your orgasm turns into a full-on sprint.
You’re so close, and he can tell by the way your body tenses under him. 
“Please,” you moan. “Please – ugh, neeeeed to come, please let me come,” you beg. 
“Just a little longer, baby. You can come when I say you can.” Joel says, voice slightly muffed against your wet skin.
He presses his lips against your clit, but doesn’t give you enough tongue to get you where you need to go. You’re already so swollen, sensitive – you know all you’ll need is a little suck and you’ll be gone. 
You don’t know how much longer you can stave off your pleasure, but you want to be good for him, to listen, to obey. 
He knows you want to come, that’s obvious, and god does he want to know what you look like when you do, to feel it, to be the reason; but still, he continues to tease and let it build. Your face twists, your jaw goes slack, and your eyes close and it all but screams I’m close, make me come, make me come.
He sucks your clit into his mouth and he grazes it with the top of his tongue and closes around you. You flutter your eyes closed. You warn him that you’re close, “Joel, fuck, please let me come. Please, please, please,” you rasp out your pleas with a symphony of moans. 
Satisfied with your pleading, he decides to take mercy on you. He looks up at you through his thick lashes, drinking in the way he has you melting, the way he has you begging. 
“You can come, baby. Go ahead, want you to soak my face,” he says, voice hoarse but still smooth like velvet.
You obey and feel the taste of your sweet release rush through you like a warm summer breeze on a hot day. Your vision goes white, and your whole body tenses with pleasure as he works you through it. 
“Fuck, so pretty with you come f’me, baby. Being such a good girl, listening to my every command,” he says and lifts his head. His dilated pupils tell you he’s high on it; on you. 
Your slick shines on his beard, illuminated by the atmospheric glow of the streetlights peering into the dark diner. He looks at you, breath slightly ragged, and brings his fingers to his lips to smear the remaining slick from his face onto them, and he pops his finger in his mouth like he’s savoring the last bite of the best meal he’s ever had.
“Taste so fuckin’ delicious, baby. Must be from all that syrup you eat.” 
And shit, it’s filthy. He looks indecent in the most delectable of ways. 
“Gonna fuck you now,” he says, grabbing his thick cock in hand and lining the head of it up against your wet and waiting hole, pausing there before pressing in. You let out a little whine. 
‘Shh, baby,” he coos, “‘m gonna give you what you need, don’t worry,” he says. Both of his hands come to your hips, surely leaving little bruises under his strong grip. Your slick makes it easy for him to bury himself in you to the hilt, even with the size of him. Your greedy cunt taking every inch of him like it’s your fucking job, like it was made for him. 
He pauses for a moment to give you a second to adjust; you feel so full, you swear you feel him in your lungs. 
He begins a relentless pace, thrusting his cock deep inside of you, the obscene sounds of the clapping noises, a wet and wanton song made as a result of your wetness keys you up. 
“Fuck, yes, Joel – YES,” you cry. 
“Yeah? Say thank you to me, baby. Say thank you for giving you this cock, for fucking you dumb,” he commands. 
Thank you – thrust – tha - thrust – thank you, fuck, thrust. 
He fucks into you so hard that your head hits the condiments, knocking them over. The ketchup bottle falls, the sugar packets scatter, and the syrup tips over. A slight ooze of the viscous substance starts to pool on the table and get into your hair, but you don’t care, this feels too good to care. 
Just as you’re about to come, Joel notices the pool of auburn liquid running over the table and onto the red booth below. 
“Tsk, tsk, baby – makin’ a mess – creaming on my cock, and spilling syrup on the floor,” he says, continuing his pace. You feel your walls clench around him. Just as quickly as he entered, he retreats, and you whine at the loss. “Get up,” he says. 
You do as he says and rise onto your legs. They’re shakey like Jell-O. You watch as he reaches over the table and grabs the sticky glass bottle from the table. 
“On your knees again,” he asks of you for the third time tonight. You pause, your body sore and your knees aching. “You hear me, baby? I said get on your knees.” 
You do as he says, and kneel before him, once again worshiping at the altar of the man above you. 
You look up at him with bated breath and watch him use his free hand to rip off his shirt and throw it onto the booth beside him. 
“Come closer,” he says, “and open,” you kneel before him with your mouth open, your inviting tongue waiting to be used. He uses his hand to grab the base of his heavy cock, and he taps it on your widespread tongue a few times before holding the syrup bottle high in the air, centering it above his cock and your open mouth. 
You watch with wide eyes as he tips the bottle over just a smidge, and a long, thin, sticky stream of syrup begins to rain down onto his hardness, falling off the sides of it, down to the floor, and all over your chin. 
“Clean me up, baby,” he says, and your lips close around him. You begin to suck and lick every inch of him, savoring the golden liquid that creates a tantalizing mix of sweetness from the sugar and salt from his pre-cum. You hum as you work him, savoring every bit, and eventually, the skin on his cock is syrup free and you take him at a more consistent pace. You hear Joel groan, and it encourages you to take him deeper, harder, faster. 
You look up at him through wet lashes, tears forming in the corners of them, as he holds your now sticky hair into a makeshift ponytail and uses your mouth. 
“Such a good hole for me,” he says, “so fucking good, baby, you’re so perfect.” 
You let him chase his high, and open wider when you see his jaw tighten and his tight core tense, the grip on your hair pulling tighter. 
“You’re gonna swallow,” he says. “All of it,” he commands, and his jaw goes slack and he releases a rush of warm cum down your throat. It tastes musky, but a little drop of syrup you missed during your cleaning job makes it sweeter. 
“Fuck, darlin’,” he says, panting heavily, holding you on his cock as he throbs out the final pumps of his release. 
He lets go of your hair and you pop off of him and use your fingers to clean off the rest of the syrup from your chin and smile up at him. God, you must look like a wreck. 
He extends out his large palm in a gesture to help you off the floor. As you rise to stand, his fingers find the underside of your jaw and he tilts you up to look at him. 
He looks at you, the darkness behind his eyes has been replaced with someone else; pride. 
“You really are a good listener, baby.” He says.  He gazes down at you, his thumb delicately tracing the contour of your jaw. This moment feels significant.
Leaning in, he tenderly places his lips on yours. The sensation takes your breath away, and as he intensifies the kiss, you willingly welcome the exploration of his tongue, relishing the warmth and savoring his taste. Tonight, you've experienced every other aspect of him, but in this moment time seems to stretch as your lips remain locked.
As he breaks the kiss, a contented smile graces your face, and you feel as if you could float away.
“Now really, let’s eat some food,” he says, letting a low chuckle escape from his lips, “I still owe you some chicken and waffles.” 
“And you owe me a new uniform,” you say, grabbing his hand to follow him to the kitchen, totally naked. 
Joel actually teaches you how to make the meal this time. He offers you another chef's coat to cover your body, but he doesn’t let you keep it on for long. As your breakfast-dinner cooks, he hoists you up on the counter and eats you again. He makes you orgasm more times in one night than you think you ever have with any of your previous partners. 
You were right in your initial thinking. Enough will never be enough when it comes to Joel.
You’ll always want more.
More of this, and more of him. 
And the one thing that’s the most certain is that you’ll most definitely want more fucking syrup. 
Good thing you work at a diner.
END
Bonus Drabble Coming Soon: How will Sydney react when you tell her about your steamy night with Joel?
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Tagging moots and those who showed interest in the preview: @nosesitter @bastardmandennis @untamedheart81 @lavema @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @lovebandrry @dugiioh @frodo-jojo @ghostwritesthings @planet-marz1 @josephquinnswhore @cinnamon-gurlll @dragonfire @drunk-and-capable @peachmy @survivingandenduring @darkheartgatita @hotgirlbedtimescenarios @dins-riduur-anthe
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get0sfav · 5 months
Text
MEANIE! | ryomen s.
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↳ ryomen sukuna x f!reader
assigned to be the resident bad boy's lab partner who also happens to be your friend's twin brother? so cliche! loosing your virginity to him? even more cliche! ugh!
18+ Minors DNI!
warnings; university au, mean!sukuna, virgin!shy!reader, sukuna is yuji's twin brother, superr cliche, ooc sukuna, cussing, teasing, dub-con/ish, pet names (good girl, brat, doll, etc.), name-calling (slut, whore, fucktoy), degradation, fingering, ass spanking, biting, nipple play, slight groping, mentions of f!masturbation, size difference, doggy style, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex (sukuna convinces reader to let him hit raw😔🤚🏼), multiple orgasms (2), choking, creampie, breeding kink, yuji catches the two of you🤓, not proofread.
wc; 2.7k
a/n; writing this made me realise how I was not built for this shit p.s this is so horrible but I had to post it because it was supposed to be up yesterday but eh, anyways, I promise the next fic would be a lot better thank you for reading. also lmk if anyone wants to be tagged in these fics !
tags(?); @satocidal <3
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A familiar set of pink hair caught your sight, and if you didn't know better, you'd assume it was Yuji. But it wasn't, because you weren't in the cafeteria, waiting for him on a bench, but rather in a class he didn't take. No, It was his brother- Ryomen Sukuna. They looked identical for the most part, except, they often didn't. Where Yuji had a soft face, adored with the biggest smile ever, his brother had a sharp, ink clad face with an ever present scowl on it.
Luck of course wasn't on your side when you got assigned as his partner. Yuji wasn't happy either, because no way in hell would he want you, one of his best friends to be anywhere near his brother. Not like you had a say in any of this, but this project was worth about 40 percent of your grade, and you needed to get an A+ on this one. Your last project went horribly because of your last partner, and you weren't about to let another lazy, or rather intimidating partner let you drag your grades down once again.
Sukuna was sat beside you, occupying nearly 2 whole seats with the way he was spreading his legs. He seemed the least bothered about what the professor was saying, didn't bother to make notes or anything. That automatically meant that you were going to take notes for the both of you.
Great.
Chewing at your pen while the lecture hall filled with low chatter of people talking to their partners, discussing whatever topic they were assigned, on contrary to you and your partner, who was still the least bothered about anything.
Building up the courage to finally talk to him, you turn around to face him, but your attempt to speak up was cut off by his intimidating glare, "You're gonna do all the work, I'll pay you- or whatever. I don't got no time for this shit." He scowled, looking back towards his phone. "I- but-" The words died down in your throat with another look from him.
The class was dismissed soon enough, as he threw his bag over his shoulder, giving you a look that you couldn't quite understand, "Well?" He raised a brow, the way he stared down at you from his height was quite intimidating. And when he put one foot forward, his gaze only became more imposing.
"C'mon, speak up."
"Well-" You took a deep breath, trying to sound a little brave while speaking "Well, what I meant to say is that I can't complete the project by myself- it's way too big, and it's worth like 40 percent of our grade."
"Then I guess you'll fail" He chuckled, bringing his phone out and ignoring whatever else you had to add onto the matter. He did not want to be bothered. He turned to face you, the most threatening thing you could think of was now looking at you, and he had no intentions of moving. It was quite the sight.
You simply backed down, almost shriveling into the little bubble you came out from. Well that was a shit show. No wonder his brother didn't like him. Hell, moments like these made you wonder how the hell him and Yuji are related, moreover, twin brothers.
"What do you expect me to do? Babysit you? You know how to write, how to research, I'm sure you can figure it out." Sukuna grumbled, before returning his eyes to the screen of his phone. He clearly didn't want to be bothered, but he also didn't want to give the dean another reason to get on his ass, so he'd maintain the conversation. For now, atleast.
"I wouldn't have bothered you if I could do it alone-" You stated, chewing on your fingernails "It requires two people, and I don't think I count as two so." The words simply spurted out of your mouth, and you had no idea where you got the confidence to even speak like that in the first place. Maybe it was because you had already decided that it was A+ or nothing, and there was absolutely no way anyone was going to stand between you and your grade.
"Oh? And why can't you do it alone?" Sukuna asked, finally turning his gaze from his phone up to you.
His gaze was almost threatening, as if he was sizing you up. Which he was. After a moment of silence, and a slight shake of his head, "Fine." He said, turning on his heel and walking away. He did not, however, wait for you to follow, even though the way he ended the conversation implied that he wanted you to follow him.
"Oh-" Was it really that easy? Or was there a catch to his agreement. Whatever it was, you were sure you could handle it, but as for now, you quickly stuffed your things in your bag, rushing after him.
"And one more thing" He called over his shoulder, still continuing to walk. His voice sounded stern, unamused. It didn't have the same warmth and softness to it that Yuji had. Sukuna sounded cold, threatening and had a slight edge to it.
"We're not partners. Don't talk to me more than you need to."
"Okay" It wasn't as if you wanted to talk to him either, but it wasn't a big deal to affirm what he had said. "Well? Should we go to the library or somewhere else?" You asked awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of your sweatshirt.
"I do whatever I want, and you're coming with. We're going to study at my place." Sukuna did not go to the library to study- hell, he didn't even study, and definitely not in a pair. He didn't even acknowledge you until you spoke, but you would have to follow anyway. He turned to walk, expecting you to fall in line.
"Alright..." You spoke under your breath, following him back to his house. You had been there a couple of times when you hung out with Yuji, Megumi and Nobara, but you had never seen Sukuna around at that time, and you had a slight hint that most of the times he was out partying, or getting wasted one way or the other.
Atleast that's what Yuji had told you.
His and Yuji's apartment was close to the campus, and that's where you two went. He crept inside the house, removing his shoes at the door and you did the same. The same cold voice spoke once again, and you were left with no choice but to follow him to his room.
The lights were off, and the place was lit by a window that let the sun shine inside.
"You can sit on the bed." Not bothering to say anything else, he threw his bag on the floor, choosing to sit on his desk and working on his PC. Surprisingly, he actually knew what the topic was, and had already collected some material regarding it.
"kay" You nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed as you placed down your bag beside you, taking out your own laptop to work.
The two of you worked in silence, the only sound echoing in the room was the typing sounds of keys, or the occasional sigh that escaped his lips.
He continued, rolling his neck to ease up some tension, he seemed to work in silence, only calling your name when he needed something from you.
After a couple of hours, Sukuna pushed his chair back, stretching his arms out. He had finally finished and it was, rather impressive. Sukuna's writing skills were, to say the least, superb.
"Are you nearly done yet?" He stood up from his chair, walking to stand beside you, leaning down a little to see what you were doing on your screen.
"Yeah, I'm almost done. Could you just mail me everything you've written? I'll compile it and print it out and maybe tomorrow we can work on actually doing the project practically, since we're almost done with the theoretical part?" You spoke in a soft tone, looking at him, waiting for his response.
*He stared back down at you, for about a whole minute, his gaze was almost intimidating. "Check your email." He sighed, standing back straight to stretch his arms once more. You nodded, checking your email just as he asked, only to find the work you needed already there in your inbox. Wasn't he efficient.
"Oh, well, thanks. I think we're done for the day, right? I guess we'll meet tomorrow then?" You acknowledged, before packing up your stuff in your bag, giving him a curt nod, a way of saying 'thank you.' He simply gave you a quick look, probably his way of telling that he heard you. With that, you darted out of his room and towards the font door, without sparing another glance towards him.
As you exited his apartment, you realised that you may or may not have left your phone on his bed. Dreading to face his gaze once more, you needed your phone to get home, so, with sweaty palms, you knock on his door once, waiting for him to open it. The door flew open, with Sukuna's annoyed expression, eyebrows crossed in annoyance, "What the hell do you want now brat?"
"I- I think I left my phone inside." You gulped, and he simply lets out a grunt of annoyance, opening the door just enough for you to slip in, which you do quickly, rushing to his room where you previously sat to find your phone. Luckily, it was easily spotted, kept on the nightstand. You quickly pick it up and pocket it, turning around to find him leaning on the door frame with the same cruel eyes of his.
Refusing to make eye contact with him, you try to swiftly exit the room, but fate had other plans for you. Tripping on whatever invisible obstacle that was placed in your path, you fall. On Sukuna.
A yelp escapes your mouth, thankfully, his reflexes were quick, but not quick enough, causing the two of you to fall on the floor, him taking the most of the collison. You're way to afraid to even open your eyes, because you knew you'd be met with the most deathly glare from the man beneath you. What makes things even worse, you were basically stradling his lap, hands on his chest, and let's not forget- his hands, on your ass. Your cheeks turn crimson at the realisation, as you squeezed you eyes shut, hoping that maybe, somehow a strike of thunder would evaporate you from the world.
You're frozen in place, not being able to do anything as you await the meanest string of cusses ever heard, probably even a shove too, but no. What you hear is much, much scarier. A chuckle. A chuckle from the Ryomen Sukuna. "What's got you blushing like a 'fuckin virgin eh?" His chuckle resonated in the silent room, making heat creep up your entire body. You weren't sure whether it was from embarassment or something entirely different.
"Aw, you like my hands on your ass brat?" He teased further, slightly squeezing your ass in between his hands, eliciting a gasp from your lips, your eyes flowing open, only to see a smug smirl on his face. You were sure at this point, your entire face was red, and maybe, just maybe he was right. You just might like his hands on your ass.
Seeing your reaction, he pushes you so you were properly stradling his lap now, squeezing your ass once more, this time a little harder. "Let me guess- y're a virgin?" He concluded, from the looks you were giving. Was it really that obvious? Well, there's no point in lying anyway. You nod slowly, as he barks out a laugh, causing you to flinch a little, "Fuckin hell," He shook his head, the smirk still on his face, "Your cunt must be fucking tight, hm?"
His words made you shudder, and god you'd be lying if you said his words didn't give you the tingling feeling in your lower stomach. "Hah. Tell me this then, what would happen if i did," He gripped your ass tightly, and without putting in any effort, he lifted you up along with himself, causing you to mewl. Your legs were now hanging beside him, his hands still on your ass as he walked and thre you on his bed, quite a bit violently for your liking.
"W-What are you trying to do?" Your voice came out meekly, but he simply chuckled once more. "let's say; if i were to do, this," He moved closer to you, his hands gripping at your waist, pulling you closer to him, slowly snaking his hands under your shirt, his cold hands feeling electrical on your bare skin as you bit back a hiss, "And then, this," His hands were moving up and down your waist, inching closer and closer to the hem of your bra, "Do you like this?" He smirked, now enveloping his finger around your waist, pulling you in a way that you were laying on you back, with him on top of you.
Fuck him and his annoying, good looking, smug face. You never found him to be even remotely attractive before, so why were you dripping in your panties then? Was it your touch-deprived brain feel so turned on from finally being touched by someone else other than your own fingers? Probably.
Almost like he could read your mind, his skilled fingers traveled to the hem of your pants, raising his eyebrows, his way of asking if you wanted it. Not a single word came out of your mouth, breath hitching in your throat. You weren't sure yourself, whether you wanted this or not, but he took your silence as approval, pulling down your pants in an instant, followed by the removal of your shirt as well. It all happened so quickly that there was no time to process it, before his tongue was inside your mouth, while his hands roamed around your underwear clad body. You moaned softly in the kiss, his experienced lips guiding your own, his tongue exploring your mouth. Messy, sloppy and rough. He didn't stop kissing you, wanting to go on forever.
He breaks the kiss, a string of saliva connecting both of your lips and the sight makes the sensation in your lower stomach even stronger, feeling yourself growing wetter and wetter every moment.
You want to say something, anything at all, but you trail off, your throat feeling dry when his fingers tease along the line of your jaw, down to your chin. Tipping it up, he leans in and leaves a warm kiss on your throat, trailing lower, lower and lower until he reaches the valley of your breasts, fingers travelling to your back to unclasp the hook of the bra, throwing it away somewhere along the rest of your clothes. He bites down on the sensitive skin just about your left nipple, before lapping it with his tongue. His free hand plays with your other nipple pinching and pulling at it.
Each and every action he does causes a new sound to erupt from deep within you, the way you responded made him go wild. There was just something about virgins that made him lose his mind. The way they responded from just the slightest touch- or how wet their cunts get from just kissing. But he'd have to admit, you were his favorite by far. It wasn't just you that responded to him, it was your whole body, wanting more and more from him. He loved it.
His fingers brush over your clothed folds before he cups your mound. Grinding the heel of his palm against you gently, you roll your hips up into his touch, rubbing against his hand, "God.. Do you feel that doll, feel how soaked you are? getting my hand wet by just rubbing it over your pantie, tch, I bet you'd stain my sheets from just how wet this little pussy is." Closing your eyes shut at his words, you feel yourself leaning more and more into his touch, wanting nothing more than for him to touch you, directly.
Eager pants leave you when his fingers teasingly dip between your folds through the thin material of your panties. The fabric is damp already and as he teases you with touches that are entirely too gentle for your rising desperation, you find yourself whining under his cruel touch. He simply chuckles, "tch, now, now, it's not nice to get all eager, you should be thankful to me." His actions get more cruel, as he does nothing but play with your folds from over the fabric.
Satisfied with how you’re whining underneath him, he slides his fingers to the hem of your panties, pulling them down with a snap against your skin, retreating to keep them in the drawer of his bedside stand. The air hits your wet cunt, causing you to shiver, as you push yourself on your elbows, watching him look at your cunt with greedy eyes. Spreading your legs further apart, two of his fingers dip into your hole and he is pleased to find it welcoming him into your tight heat. A loud moan slips past your lips, as you feel his fingers dip inside you.
This was way better than any time when you had touched yourself on your own, his two fingers stretching you out better than anything. The length of his fingers caused you to jerk, feeling the slightest bit of pain from how long and thick they were, small tears forming in the corner of your eyes "Shitttt look at you" He grunts, and you look up at him, only to see him palming the tent in his pants, "You're nearly crying from my fingers, how are you gonna take my cock doll?" He chuckles cruelly, picking up the pace of his fingers inside you.
Your walls pulse around him and you arch your body into him when he curls the digits up and rubs exploratively within your pussy, trying to find the spot that makes you see stars.
He's too rough, adding a third finger and pushes all three of them into you down to the knuckle. This tears a gasp from your throat and you buck your hips up into his touch, over and over again, as you feel the strength leave your legs. You were seeing stars now, eyes closed shut, gasps and moans leaving your mouth. He loved the sight, continuing his pace, the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter.
"Su-Sukuna, 'm gonna cum-!" Your fingers grip the sheets beside you, your entire body shaking from the intensity and quickness of his fingers, moaning his name over and over again, "Good girl, good fucking girl, cum for me" He smirks, adding his thumb to rub circles on your clit, a yelp flies from your mouth as you're a sweaty mess under his touch. With a few more pumps from his fingers, you're yelling out his name, knuckles white from how hard you had been gripping the sheets as he guides you through your high, the intense wave of pleasure hitting hard, head hitting the plush mattress as your arms give out, and everything seemed a little dizzy around you.
He retreats his fingers, causing your cunt to clench around nothing. You hear him zipping down his pants, chuckling dryly. "Cmon slut, I ain't done with you yet." His hands grab at your waist, flipping you over so that your head was pressed against the mattress, and your ass was facing him. Huffing, you turn around to see him, eyes widening when you're met with the sight of his cock instead.
It was long, not too long but longer than the average one you saw in porn. He was girthy too, multiple veins running down to the tip of dick. The tip was flushed red, leaking with pre-cum, his hand grabbing the base of it. What caught your eye was that the tattoos that decorated his entire body ended just where his dick started.
"Aren't you going to use a- a condom?" You objected, slightly biting your lip. He simply scoffs, "Trust me, you don't want to use a condom for your first time doll, it's just more painful." He shrugs, his finger collecting the pre cum from his tip before pumping his hand up and down on his entire length. He looks at you with his eyebrows raised and a slight pout, "If you're that worried I'll buy you morning after pills alright?" He sighs, before aligning the tip of his cock with your already sensitive cunt, causing you to shiver.
One of his hands holds your waist, while the other grips your ass, slapping it twice and kneading the soft flesh, before he starts pushing more and more of his dick inside you, grunting every time your walls pulse around him.
You're holding back tears from how painful it was feeling, biting down on your lip hard enough to draw some blood. He notices how tense you are, massaging the small of your back, "Relax, it's going to be worse if you're tensed up, brat." His grip tightened against your hip, and just when he was almost inside you, he bottomed out, pulling your hips to meet his torso, eliciting a loud cry from you, and a drawled out grunt from him.
*"Fuck you're so tight" He moans, throwing his head back, giving you a moment to adjust to his length, tears spilling from your eyes. Carefully, he starts moving. You lean your head back, your jaw dropping open and a moan leaving your throat. The way his cock stretches your walls out, pain and pleasure are mixed together, "'s to big sukuna!" He ignores your cries, gripping tightly against your hit as he starts to pick up his pace, the pain slowly turning into a pleasurable feeling.
He pulls back totally, leaving only the tip inside your cunt before ramming inside. You cry out with pleasure, clenching your walls around his cock as he thrusts in and out of your pussy with no mercy. His hand which was previously gripping your waist grabs your left tit, groping and pawing at it, pinching the nipple over and over again. The bed shakes underneath you and sounds of skin slapping against each other resonate in the room. The scene was so lewd, your pussy making squelching sounds every time he thrusts a little harder, hitting the sweet spot within you.
Every so often the squelching nosies of your pussy can be heard as Sukuna thrusts his cock inside of you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, mouth gaping open as loud moans and whimpers leave your throat. He was too rough, too rough to be your first time, but there was this thrill you got every time he bullied past your walls, hitting deep inside you.
He grunts, his fingers trailing up your back and to the nape of your neck, before he grips it hard, pulling you back so that your back was against his chest. His hand now held your throat from the front, and the new angle made you feel that he was inside your stomach, thrusting harder and harder.
Sukuna watches as his cock slides in and out of you, filling you up with pleasure. Sinful whimpers and cries leave your throat, strained from the hand wrapped around your throat. He could get used to the scene, watching how your tits bounced up and down with every mean thrust of his, how your hands desperately tried to find something to grab a hold of. Oh how he loved this.
You moan, feeling your mind shut from the pleasure, and how strongly the feeling of pleasure was creeping up. You were going to come again, "Sukuna ah- ah shit! I'm- I'm gonna come!"
"Not yet" He grunts, breath fanning over your ear as his thrusts become sloppier, "Not yet" his words are drawled out, "Gonna fill you up, yeah, take it like the good whore you are mhm?" He whispers, licking your ear and nearly sending you over the edge, "Sukuna pl-please! I-I need to-" "Shit- fuck, cum on my dick then" You felt hot, sticky ropes of his cum filling you up, as he thrusts once more, feeling everything empty out in you.
It's a lot, oozing out from your sore, abused cunt. The two of you pant heavily, His fingertips give your throat a light squeeze as he starts to roll his hips back, and you drop to the mattress, feeling more than euphoric, stars, moons, the entire universe clouding your thoughts. You were on cloud 9, even though your core was still shaking, even if he had fucked his cum deep inside you. It didn't matter, it was all too ecstatic, the daze you felt better than any high anyone could have ever experienced. You heard him chuckle, feeling his hands press on your worn out and shaky thighs, almost as if massaging the sore muscles.
It's bad to set expectations from him though, because all he did was use his thumb to collect his cum that leaked out of your hole to your thighs, pushing it all back inside. Giving your ass one last slap he stood up, and got dressed in just his sweatpants, and just then, you heard your name being called.
Your eyes widen as you realise who it was, turning around to see Yuji standing in the doorway, his eyes wide and an expression of disgust on his face.
"Get out you measly brat" Sukuna groaned, pushing his hair back before slamming the door in poor Yuji's face.
This just got a lot awkward, didn't it?
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gay-dorito-dust · 6 months
Note
Could you possibly write headcanons for a relationship with Mizu from The Blue Eyed Samurai? Hope all is well with you!
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At first being in a relationship with Mizu was heavily strained for a multitude of reasons but the main one being that the people in Mizu’s life don’t tend to stay for the long run.
Which meant that Mizu was always putting a good deal of distance between the two of you as a way to prevent becoming overly attached to you, in the fear that you wouldn’t last as long either.
They acted like your second shadow with how close they stood near you, especially when in the company of unsavoury and shady individuals. A silent body guard that was about as still as a statue unless a move was made against you with ill intentions.
However thar never stopped Mizu from answering the call they had to protect you when needs be but by the time the threat was eliminated, it was back to pushing you away while keeping conversations you had to a minimum, all in hopes of deterring any and all hope you may have for a connection.
It’s not in a mean way but more so Mizu’s way of protecting you without integrating you into their mess, or be targeted by people who would love nothing more then to hit Mizu where it hurts.
It didn’t matter whether you were associated or not, you were still fair game for them to attempt other forms of capture.
Mizu wants the best for you and that isn’t sticking with them.
This often leads to arguments being had between the two of you because you felt as though Mizu was just trying to get out a relationship with you and doing things without your input on them, whilst Mizu believed you to be stubborn and not fully grasping the threat of being with them had on you and your well-being.
Anyway, enough of that angsty stuff.
Once Mizu gotten use to the fact that you weren’t going away anytime soon and rather serious in being by their side through thick and thin. They would slowly start to open up to you more by starting off small such as;
Shielding you from sight when someone becomes aggressive.
Making sure you don’t get injured and even if you did, no matter how large or small or maybe, Mizu would want to heal it themself and oversee your recovery process personally.
Sitting/ standing closer to you than before.
Or even Brushing off the snow from your clothes before it melts and soaks the clothing.
When Mizu gets even more comfortable within your relationship then they’ll start contemplating on how to enact physical contact but never knowing how. It had been a long while since they last allowed someone to hold their hand never less hold them but Mizu wasn’t quite sure you’d like that sort of affection.
So you’ll probably have to make the first step yourself by showing Mizu that you were more then okay with it by grabbing their hand, interlocking your pinkies together, holding on their arm or even straight up hugging the life out of them after a gruelling fight.
‘Thank god you’re okay.’ You cried into Mizu’s chest, breathing them in as much as you could as though the moment you let Mizu go, they’d disappear.
‘You know I’d always come back to you.’ Mizu told you as they reciprocated the hug despite how it pulled at their wounds but Mizu didn’t care, your health and well-being was something they hold in high regard.
‘I know that but I just can’t help my fear of the day I’ll loose you.’ You told them, pulling away from them a little bit and trying not to smile when Mizu instinctively tightened their grip on you. ‘But I also must remind myself that you’ve proven yourself capable enough to hold your own in a fight on multiple occasions.’ You pressed a tender kiss to Mizu’s cheek, chuckling when you saw their eyes widen at the innocent act.
For someone as powerful and amazing as Mizu, you pride yourself in how you were probably the only one that got to see this side of them. It was an honour to witness a moment that tasted as sweet as it looked.
Mizu meanwhile felt warm throughout their body, enjoying the feeling of you holding them as tightly as you were right now. Were they really this touch starved? Yes. Yes they were. Severely so.
They’d crumble internally during the more intimate moments where your both alone to your own devises. Run your fingertips gently across the scars on their shoulders or across their calloused hands and Mizu will be melting like butter. They felt safe within your hold, they felt as though the didn’t need to be on guard with you near and you felt protected and loved within Mizu’s hold, taking comfort in knowing that nothing could touch you with Mizu nearby.
You felt invincible either with Mizu and Mizu felt cherished. You both fill a void that neither of you thought could ever be filled.
Can and will punch Taigen for flirting with you. Mizu has done it before and isn’t afraid to do it again as extra.
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bunnywritesjunk · 7 months
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My King
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Series summary: Your parents signed you up for an Alpha Omega Match company when you were eighteen. It took years for them to find your match, but you meet the giant austrian man. Will he be a good partner?
Chapter summary: You and König attend a holiday party.
Pairing: König x Fem Reader
Warnings: A/B/O dynamics (Never use this abbreviation without the slashes it is an indigenous slur) 18+ MDNI, vague racism, heat (omega verse)
Word count: 3.1k
Genre: Mostly Fluff a little angst here and there. Smut.
A/n: Omg....Hi guys......it's me.....hey.......I am alive. This chapter is defiantly geared more towards my poc readers. Theres some angst that i'll revisit in a later chapter. Some comments are made. You'll see. Anyways, I can't promise I will be posting super consistently but I will definatly try to post more then I have been.
Previous Chapter
Chapter Five:
Your editor droned on about deadlines and writing engines as you ate some soup König got you earlier. You can hear the desperation through the computer screen. You'd be lying if you said you were listening. They'll get the pages when they get them, with you, no money. König sat on the couch waiting for your meeting to be done. 
“I'll get the next chapter done, Frankie.” You said.
“You promise?” He was almost teary-eyed.
“Yes, I promise.” 
You hung up and closed your laptop while sighing. You got up and walked over to your giant Alpha. You outstretched his arm, inviting you to cuddle. You obliged plopping yourself on his lap and resting your head on his chest. The November winds were seeping into the atmosphere slowly. You didn't mind. That meant the holidays were coming. 
“The 141 is having an early holiday party. Everyone goes on leave one week into December, so we celebrate early. Would you like to go with me, Schatz?” 
“Oh yes, that sounds lovely. When is it?” You asked delightedly.
“This weekend. It's a dressy event.” 
The weekend was in four days. You haven't done your hair or dressed up in a while. You'd want a new dress for this especially with the cold, but you supposed you could make something work. As for your hair, it was time to hit up a YouTube tutorial for some ideas. König seemed to sense your internal struggle. 
“We can go shopping today, I need a button-down shirt.” 
“You don't have a button-down?” You asked a little amused. 
“Never needed one.” 
“Huh, well I also want to get my hair done. But, I've never been to a stylist here.” You started searching for braiders in the area, and to your surprise, there were some. 
The prices were comparable to ones in the US so that gave you some comfort. König looked over your shoulder browsing the different styles along with you. Some he has seen and others he hasn't. He chimed in with some styles he thought would look cute on you every so often. 
“Oh, she has an appointment available tomorrow.”
“Book it, I'll take you.” 
“I can take myself it's alright.”
“Nein. I'll take you.”
You grumbled a bit at his stubbornness but gave in. You booked the appointment and placed your deposit. 
“How much is it?” König asked.
“Um, all together with the deposit, one hundred fifty euros. I was also gonna tip but I forgot Europe doesn't do that.” 
König replied with a 'hmm' and tapped away on his phone. Your phone dinged and you checked the notification. 
'König has sent you € 150,00' 
“Kö, You don't have to pay for this.”
“Why shouldn't I? You are mine, You want it, I like it when you look beautiful, so I pay.” He said simply.
König had a habit of paying for everything. You liked it but it made you a little uncomfortable. This wasn't how you'd be treated back in the States. Whenever you mentioned it, König would always rant about how American men were cheap and lazy. He also would mention how he has more money than he needs so spending it on you is fun. König loves to see your little face light up whenever he buys you something sweet, or a piece of jewelry you were looking at. He told you to get dressed for the shopping trip and you obliged, making sure you were bundled up for the cold weather. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The two of you opted to shop for König's clothes first. Finding clothing that fits him nicely is a challenge with how tall and muscular he is. There were some stores specifically made for big and tall men that you went into first. One store only had bright floral patterned shirts and loosely fitting dress pants. Neither you nor your Alpha liked that. The next one had some nice boots in his size. They were a fancier version of combat boots. Finally, you found a simple black button-down shirt and slim tapered dress pants for him. You made him try it on before leaving the store.
 My god...You had to keep yourself from drooling. The pants hugged his waist perfectly, and the shirt was just tight enough for you to see some muscle peeking through. König smirked at your reaction. 
“You think this will look good with my sniper hood?” he asked. 
“What?! You're gonna wear your hood and cover-up that gorgeous face? No way.”
“I don't show my face to anyone on base, Schatz.” 
“Hmm, well you look good in anything so... I guess.” You pouted.
König got dressed and paid for his clothes. Nearby there were a few boutiques with dresses. You wanted something nice, but not too fancy. You didn't want to overdress. König was patient with you as you browsed a bunch of stores. Eventually, you found something you liked. It was a midi deep purple knit dress. It had elegant sleeves and looked like it could be dressed up or down. Perfect for a cold night. König sat on the bench of the fitting room as you tried it on. You came out and twirled giving him a full view of the dress. 
“So?” You asked.
“Beautiful.” He motioned for you to come closer. When you did he placed a hand on your hip gingerly. 
“I can think of many things I could do to you in this dress.” He said quietly. 
“König!” You gave him a light slap on the arm and went back into the changing room embarrassed. 
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The next day you started prepping for your hair appointment. You had to wash your hair but the stylist said she could blow-dry it for you. You spent about an hour washing your hair and another detangling it. König kept you company on the couch as you combed and sectioned it out. You sighed and slumped on the couch once you were done. Your arms were a little sore but you were glad you were done. You put your bonnet on to keep your hair neat and moisturized. You made sure you had your tip ready and a book to read while you got your hair done. König stood at the door watching you pace around the apartment gathering your things. 
The drive to the salon was quick and smooth. König gave you a kiss on the cheek before you exited the car. You opened the door to the building, and the smell of hair spray wafted into your nose. A tall woman greeted you as you walked in. Her hair was braided back into neat rows and her dark cheeks had a warm glow to them. 
“Are you my twelve pm?” She asked with a smile.
“Yes, I am, nice to meet you.” 
She guided you into a salon chair and got started. Her hands were quick, skilled, and gentle as she worked her way through your head of hair. In about two hours she finished. You admired your new do in the mirror and thanked your stylist profusely. König waited at a café down the street. You spotted him sitting peacefully at one of the outdoor tables, away from most other patrons. As you got closer he glanced up to meet and look at you. His eyes widened, taking in your new look. Although he had his mask on you could tell he was smiling under it. He stood up to greet you. 
“You look beautiful, Liebe.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead careful to avoid touching your freshly done hair. You giggled bashfully and returned his kiss on his cheek. 
The next few days went by quickly. You did some extra work and scheduled an editor meeting before the weekend. When Saturday rolled around, you were anxious. You wanted to make a good impression with your Alpha's coworkers. How do you act around military personnel? Your father never brought you around any of his military friends. As you got ready you just tried to keep an open mind and stay confident in yourself. Also, you will get to see Soap again. You slipped on your dress and spritzed a light mist of perfume.
You walked out of your room while looking through your purse to make sure you had all of your essentials. König was sitting on the couch but stood when he saw you. He was dressed and ready, looking over your form affectionately. You zipped around the dining room and kitchen making sure you had everything in order. König walked over to you, stopping you in your path. He slinked his hand around your waist pulling you out of your thoughts. He pulled you into his chest gently. 
“Relax, Schatz.” He purred. You looked up at him and gave him a nervous smile. 
“I think I left my wallet in my room. Do I need it? Should I bring a gift?” You rambled. 
König pulled your wallet out from his back pocket and handed it to you. He shook his head and gave you a small smile. His sniper hood was hanging haphazardly over a dining room chair. He led you towards the door swiftly grabbing it and opening the door. You followed him out reluctantly. 
The drive to the base was uneventful aside from your occasional worrying that was quelled by your alpha quickly. You can't help but feel more on edge than you usually would, but you can't put a finger on why. König pulled up to the massive, barbed wire-lined fence. A man in full military gear and a large gun strolled up to the window. You hadn't noticed that König out his hood in a while back. He rolled the window down and quickly flashed his ID to the soldier. The man nodded and waved his hand in the air. The gate slid open almost painfully slowly. König placed a hand on your thigh as he drove slowly through the base. It helped calm you for the time being. 
There was a large building with a few dozen cars parked outside. König Parked the SUV rather haphazardly a good distance away from the entrance. When you opened the door you heard faint music coming from the building and lots of voices and laughter. Your alpha lapped the car and met you on the passenger side. You started to walk towards the door but he stopped you.
“What is the matter, Schatz?” His eyes softly gazed down at you. 
“Nothing is wrong, I'm fine.” You said quickly.
“If you are uncomfortable, we can go.” He gently caressed your cheek., his scent enveloping your senses. 
“I'm ok, I'm just a little nervous.” Deep down you knew something was off, but you were confident you could get through this night. 
“Shcatz, You forgot your collar.” König said nonchalantly.
You gasped and your hand flew up to your neck covering your exposed scent glands. 
“Oh no! Why didn't you tell me? Now I'm gonna stink up a storm in there.” You turned around embarrassed and even more on edge. 
Your Alpha said nothing, he simply opened the back door of the car and pulled out a small black bag before closing the door. He spun you around by the waist to face him waving the bag in front of you. You glanced at him unsure before taking the bag. König gave you a small nod waiting for you to open it. Inside was a large square jewelry box. When you opened it it held the most beautiful gold metal collar. The one you looked at from the boutique a while ago. 
“König....” You truly didn't know what to say. Tears pricked your eyes but you quickly wiped them away and replaced them with a smile. 
“Thank you, Alpha.” You said while wrapping your arms around his middle. 
He held you close and kissed the top of your head through his hood gently. He pulled away and took the collar out of its box. He clasped it around your neck locking it with the provided key. It fit perfectly, you could barely tell it was there. König held the small key out for you to take but you shook your head. 
“Keep it safe for me Alpha.” You said giving him a warm smile. 
Although you couldn't see his face, you could tell he was happy you trusted him with the key. König held out his elbow for you to hold and led you towards the event. You were still nervous but you brushed it off, you had someone there to protect you. The large hall was buzzing with conversation. Most people were sitting around in large groups having conversations and others were at the bar. There were string lights hung all around the ceiling giving the place a relaxing atmosphere. König led you to the bar eager to get a drink. Parties are not you or your Alpha's natural element.
He ordered a beer for himself and a gin and tonic for you. As you waited you glanced around taking in the different people. You were probably one of the very few omegas. You could tell who was military and who wasn't very easily. Some were still in uniform, others wore masks or dog tags. Some soldiers brought a plus one but it was a minority. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure approaching. You turned to see a familiar mohawk. 
“Hey! There they are!” Soap exclaimed pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. You could smell the alcohol on him. 
“Hey, soap.” You eked out while being squeezed. 
Soap turned to König and gave the large Apex a hug as well. König grunted, a little uncomfortable with the contact but patted his back affectionately. 
“We've been waiting for you two to get here, everyone wants to meet the Colonel's Mrs.” His Scottish accent was thick and slightly slurred. 
The bartender set your drinks down and you quickly scooped yours up and took a sip. Soap led both of you away toward a group of men. You lingered behind König slightly allowing him to greet the group first. Soap announced your name loudly sparing König of the burden. You waved shyly giving everyone a small smile. Everyone greeted you and your Alpha before returning to the conversation they were having. You were grateful the attention on you didn't last as you could sip your cocktail and listen to the drunken ramblings of the soldiers. 
As the night dragged on, you met various people. You chatted with Ghost a bit and met Captain Price, as well as Gaz. Though the drunker people go the more rowdy things become. You sat on a chair near the group, only on your second drink. Your Alpha was loosening up after four. Soap suggested they go out to the field and play football, challenging Ghost to a team match. The whole group along with some others from the party joined them outside. König glanced over at you. 
“Will you be ok if I join them?” He asked gingerly.
“Of course, go have fun.” You gave him a reassuring smile. 
You watched him follow his coworkers out of the door into the frigid night. You decided to hang out at the bar as your drink was almost done. Although the night has been fine so far there was still something nagging in the back of your head. You plopped down on one of the bar stools and ordered another drink. Good thing this event had an open bar. You scrolled on your phone for a while not noticing how fast an hour has passed. An Alpha sat on the bar stool next to yours sighing loudly. You didn't bother acknowledging him as many people have sat there in the time that has passed. 
“It's a nice night huh? Not too cold.” The guy said in a European accent you can't place. 
You looked up from your phone. “Oh, are you talking to me?” 
“Yeah, I am. So uh, are you a new recruit or?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Oh no, I'm just a visitor.” You glanced back at your phone hoping he would leave you alone. 
“I've never seen an omega like you.” 
“An omega like me?” You looked at him puzzled.
“Yeah, you're so exotic. I thought omegas like you have to stay in your own countries.” He said while taking a sip of his drink. 
“Well, that's rude and extremely ignorant.” You scowled at him.
“Come on, it's a compliment. I mean I knew your kind your be spicy but damn.” He chuckled. 
You took that as your cue to leave. And you stood up from the bar your felt a tug on the crown of your head. 
“I mean, is this even your real hair?” He rubbed the hair he grabbed in between his fingers. 
You ripped away from his grip. “What is wrong with you?! Don't touch me!” You yelled. Everyone at the bar turned to look in your direction. 
“Relax, I'm just joking around.” The Alpha said trying to diffuse the situation. 
“You don't touch a random person's hair, who raised you?!” 
You felt a hand rest on your shoulder gently from behind. The Alpha you were confronting turned pale. 
“Schatz? What did he do?” Your Alpha asked lowly.
 You turned to face König anger still written all over your face. As angry as you were, you wanted this to be a teaching moment for this young Alpha. You turned back to the Alpha who was standing up now sweat forming on his face. 
“Nothing Alpha, this guy just needs to watch where he's going, right?” You eyed him carefully. 
“Yes! Yes, I'm very sorry miss.” He looked down at your feet. 
You looked up at König who seemed unconvinced. He was staring daggers into the young Alpha. You saw König take a deep breath closing his eyes while doing so. When he opened them he looked down at you.
“Time to go, it's a long drive home.” He placed a hand on the small of your back and led you out.
 Some people glanced in your direction as you left. You couldn't help but feel embarrassed. You hurried to the car in an effort to get out of the cold. König opened your door for you and helped you slide into the passenger seat. 
“I forgot something inside, I'll be right back.” He said quickly shutting the door and storming back inside the building. 
You couldn't tell if he was about to torture that soldier or not. But you did what you could, if he gets in trouble it's his own fault. König came back out no more than two minutes later. As he started the car, you got cozy relishing in the heated air. 
“What did you forget?” You ask him.
“I had a project for Ghost, I had to tell him about it.”
“Hmm.” You responded, not buying it completely. 
As your Alpha drove, the gentle rocking of the car lulled you to sleep.
As your Alpha drove, the gentle rocking of the car lulled you to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
König shook you awake gently. “We're home.”
You stirred and sat up stretching gently. You felt warm, a little too warm. Did you drink that much? You followed König into the apartment and kicked off your shoes at the door. That's when the cramp hit you. It was so painful it made you dizzy causing you to stumble. König caught you by the arm and ushered you to the couch.
“Schatz? You're burning up.” He laid you down and hurried to the kitchen.
You felt the sweat forming on your brow. Your heat had come early. You whined into the couch cushions trying to breathe through the dull achy pain. König brought some water and sat you up to drink.
“Why didn't you tell me your heat was coming?” he said concerned.
“Early...it came early.”
taglist: i hope i got everyone
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@tizylish @thychuvaluswife
@luvamps @ghostslittlegf @justkillme2005
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saturnville · 2 months
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from me to you, major john egan
pairing: major john egan x amelia mae egan
content: John is held as a POW in Germany. as the men are getting letters, it seems as though he hasn't received one. until hers arrived late.
an: thoughts on MOTA pt. 7? again, thank you @turn-thy-paige for the letter-writing ideas.
tags: to maintain your place on the taglist, you're expected to interact! @turn-thy-paige @neeville @ineedafictionalman @ihe4rtisa @lovebyceleste
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"Major," said one of his soldiers. John's chewing slowed as his eyes lifted. In front of him was a letter. Beaten, battered, and torn along the edges. But, it was there. His heart leapt though his eyes didn't show it. Everyone around him had received something from a loved one except for him, so it seemed.
John accepted it with a nod and slowly returned to his position, movements slow from the turmoil his body had gone through.
The toll of war weighed equally heavy on the mind as it did on the body. Exhaustion and fatigue of the mind came just as frequently. Rest was necessary. Breaks were necessary. Moments of care, tenderness, and compassion were necessary to keep the men from crumbling beneath the immense pressure they were burdened with. With headstrong men, that was a rare occurrence. It usually came in the form of letters. Letters from friends, lovers, and families. They were the blood that kept the hearts of the men pumping. 
Major John Egan’s heart beat slowly. The strong organ drained more and more as the days went on. He huffed slowly. In his hand was a crinkled envelope. It had been stained with dust and dirt and the lefthand corner was ripped. Johnny was written in the middle. 
He tore the top of it and peeled the wrinkled paper out of the envelope. His head hung low as his eyes darted across the paper. Her scent was on the paper. Vanilla and sandalwood. He brought the letter to his nose and inhaled softly, a soft sob fell from his lips. 
Hi Johnny, it read. 
It’s been 67 days since you left. I told myself I wouldn’t count the days, but I couldn’t help it. The bed is cold, breakfast time is miserable to sit through most days, and my coffee would taste disgusting. You make it so well; what’s your trick? I never thought to ask. I didn’t think I would need to. How foolish of me. 
I've taken up a job—not out of necessity, but to fill the void in my days. It distracts me from the ache of missing you. I'm doing editing work at a local news station, finally putting my degree to good use. Sometimes, I steal moments to write about us, envisioning our future and the life we'll share one day.
Are you holding up, my love? War is often romanticized, but I understand it's far from glamorous. I can't fathom the things you witness and endure daily, the thoughts that must plague your mind. 
I think of you every day. I keep you in my prayers, begging God to keep you all and for you to return safely and soundly. 
Though it is easier said than done, find something to smile about. Stay positive. And come back home to me. 
I love you. See you soon. 
P.S. 
We’re having a baby. Make it home for the birth of your child, or we're going to have an issue.
With all my affection, 
Amelia Rose
A single tear hit the paper. A baby? His thumb grazed over her sentiments. I love you. See you soon. We're having a baby. “Soon couldn't come fast enough,” he whispered, yearning for the day he’d be in her arms again. With a heart heavy with longing, John folded the letter carefully, tucking it in the inner pocket of his jacket, finding solace in the promise of love and the anticipation of their reunion.
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Text
The Fake Ring
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Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female Reader 
Summary: The three times you lied about your relationship status with a ring and one time you don’t have to anymore or - It’s easier to work as a bartender with a fake ring on your finger to avoid situations. But that also means Jake thinks you’re already in a relationship 
Word Count: ~2.7k 
Warnings: is the beach scene a warning?, discussions about situations when you need to lie you’re in a relationship to get rid of people, me not having a clue about the navy  
AN: I started this story a year ago when I bought myself a fake ring for work. I rewrote it 3 times and I wasn't so sure, if I should post it on this blog, but I love TGM and I had fun writing it, so: Hi Jake, welcome to this blog
When you needed to make sure you were off limits 
The night had just started for you as you were stacking the clean glasses and had just finished counting the register. Nobody was there so far, but that would change when the naval aviators would come in and the folks that tried to talk to them or get one to sleep with them would arrive. They often arrived after them in the hopes they would see their entry. 
You liked the beginning of your shift when you had the room to yourself until the regulars came in and then the aviators. They were nice and often chatted with you until it got crowded. It was how you got to know some of them, and you were especially fond of the group that was currently stationed there. 
Right when you thought about it the door opened and a few of them stepped in. They stopped at the bar and waited for you to make their drinks while small talk floated through the room. They took their drinks and went to their side of the bar where the first bets for a game of pool were placed. 
“You’re not playing tonight?” you asked Hangman who stayed back at the bar with you. 
“I’ll let them a chance of winning before I join them,” he smirked at you and you laughed. He wasn’t wrong though; he was good at pool. And at dart. And at flirting. “I rather keep you company if you have time for me. How was your day?” he asked and took a sip of his beer. You knew that he would quit after the first beer and would switch to something non-alcoholic if the next day was a working day. 
“Same old, same old. Nothing as exciting as flying for sure. I bet you don’t want to hear about me going grocery shopping and that my highlight was to pick up a new book that I got lost in until I noticed I had to leave for work,” you teased as you filled a drink for another customer. 
When you came back Hangman was still there. “I like to hear about everything that makes you happy.” His eyes quickly went to the piece of jewelry on your hand. “I’ll see you later, darling,” he said and stood up before he joined the others at the pool table. You almost forgot about the ring. You started wearing it when people started hitting on you and for the most part it worked. And it was better this way, because you weren’t sure if you could tell Hangman no. 
Hangman flirted all the time, so you wouldn’t be special. Even though he always asked about you and your day and coaxed you into telling more. And people did talk about him a lot and had a certain opinion of him, but he was always respectful and you knew he wouldn’t cross a line. 
That’s why you were seeing him flirting a few hours later with two women who were more than willing to do so. Phoenix had slipped into a seat in front of you. “Another round?” you asked her. It was a slow night so you could give her a few minutes. 
“Yes please, and a break from Hangman's terrible flirting, so don’t hurry,” she replied and it made you laugh. 
“I bet he isn’t that bad,” slipped your lips and you hurried to bend down and grab some bottles, so she couldn’t see your face. But she was still staring at you when you were back on her eyelevel.
2. When you had to protect your heart 
Inventory sucked! There was no other way to describe the days when you had to count how many things you still had at the bar and what you needed to order. You stepped out of the cool bar towards the bench where Penny sat outside. “Okay, I counted...” you never finished the sentence as you just spotted what was happening on the beach. 
“Take a seat, enjoy the show,” Penny chuckled and patted the bench next to her. 
“What is happening?” you managed to get out and stare at the people who were playing some kind of game – shirtless. “Is that Phoenix?” 
“Yup and everyone else. Give me the list,” she held out her hand and you put the paper in her hand before you sat down and started watching whatever was happening there. “I bet we could get a lot of money if we would record that,” you said to your boss. 
“Yeah, but do we like to share?” was her reply and you shook your head no. 
“While we’re at it… what’s going on with Hangman and you?” Her tone was easy, but she looked at you with something that told you there was no escaping that conversation.  
“Nothing. He likes to flirt with everyone, that’s it.” You shrugged your shoulders and let your gaze wander back to the game when a loud shout was heard, and someone lifted a guy – Bob? You weren’t so sure – into the air. 
“If you would take that thing of your finger, maybe,” Penny started, but you interrupted her. 
“There is a reason this is on this finger.” You wiggled your hand, and the small stone caught the sunlight and reflected it. “People won’t accept a no anymore and,” this time it was Penny who interrupted you. 
“Did someone do anything you didn’t want to?” 
“No! It’s just they see it as a challenge when I decline it. But once they see the ring they kind of back off. It's just easier for me this way.” 
“Okay, once they do you tell me. I won’t tolerate anything of that, okay?” She waited until you agreed and patted your hand. Inventory took longer than usual because you were distracted by the game. 
Penny had gone inside to place the order and you were busy collecting everything from the table when a shadow fell over the papers. “Enjoyed the show?”  
“It was okay,” you replied and eyed the sandwich Hangman was eating. He held a half out towards you. After a short hesitation you took it and bit into it. He took Penny’s seat and you shared the food. You were thankful that he had put on a shirt, because otherwise you would have stared at his body. 
“I think I need to have a chat with them,” he said once he finished and licked his finger. You were mesmerized and didn’t catch on immediately.  
“Huh?”  
“Your partner. They need to take better care of you. But I shouldn’t have to point out the obvious that you should feed your partner. You never even told me a name,” he said and looked at you expectingly. 
Suddenly you went hot, caught in your own lie. Never had someone requested a name of you and you couldn’t come up with something. “Maybe because you only talk about yourself,” you said and stood up. You quickly grabbed the papers and threw a “Thank you for lunch” over your shoulder before you went inside the building. 
It was a lie; he was always asking about you. But you knew when you came up with something on such a short notice you would be caught in a web of lies. You needed to think about it.
3. When you had to admit you lied 
“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Bob asked when he saw Jake watching you again at the Hard Deck. 
Jake didn’t even bother to look away from you, only when it was his turn at pool. “Because despite all of you thinking I’m an asshole, I’m not hitting on someone who is taken. It’s just a little flirting and as soon as she tells me to stop I will,” he said while lining up his cue and as he didn’t lower his voice the others were also pulled into the conversation. 
“Who are we talking about?” Rooster asked and hoped his opponent would be too distracted to sink the next ball. 
“His crush,” Coyote jumped in, he had been wanting to bring it up for a while. 
“What crush?” Rooster asked confused. The others just stared at him, while Jake mumbled something about not having a crush. “Don’t look at me, he was just flirting with three different people last week,” Rooster defended himself. 
“They wanted to be entertained and I just did that. It wasn’t as if I was leaving with them though.” Despite the talking he managed to sink two more balls before it was Bradley's turn again. 
“Okay so... if she’s in a relationship, why is she spending her breaks with you? And I haven’t heard her talking about a relationship ever,” Bob thought loudly. “Although she also mostly talks to you and not me.” 
This made Jake pause. Not once had he heard a name from you, he saw the ring and assumed and went from there. But you also didn’t deny anything when he mentioned a partner. But Jake was anything but shy that’s why he left the table without an excuse and stalked to the bar. He waited patiently for you to finish your conversation and shooed Penny away when she wanted to take his order. She gave him a knowing look, but he didn’t break her gaze. Only when he noticed you approaching, he looked in your direction. You shot him a smile and showed him you’d be with him soon. 
“Want a refill?” you asked once you stopped in front of him. 
“Are you in a relationship?” The question made you stop and you stared at him like a deer caught in the headlight. 
“Why are you asking?” Your response told him a lot, so he just raised his eyebrow. “No, I’m not,” you admitted as you didn’t want to lie to him. 
“Okay, then why this?” he pointed at your finger. Another patron showed you he wanted to order something and Penny was busy at the other end of the bar. 
“I’ll join you in my break and explain then, okay? So, about the refill?” 
“I’m good, see you then,” he knocked on the bar twice before he made his way to the restroom. 
You took your break earlier than you would have usually. After a stop in the kitchen you walked over to the pool table with a plate full of nachos and two cokes in your hand. You pushed one in Jakes hand who was leaning against the wall watching the current game. You held out your plate too, but he just shook his head. It was quiet for a while when you watched the other aviators play. 
“How often have you been hit on and the person didn’t back off when you told them you weren't interested? Or were you always interested? Wait, I just realized I asked the wrong person.” You looked around and wanted to ask Phoenix when you spotted Bob. You repeated the question again. Poor Bob looked tortured and admitted it had happened quiet often. 
“Some people even see it as a challenge, especially when more people are around,” Phoenix chimed in who had come over when she spotted you with her back seater. 
“If someone tells me they’re not interested, why should I humiliate myself and try harder?” Jake wondered. 
“Oh Jake, if only everyone would be that way,” you patted his arm and didn’t know why you were surprised that it was quite hard under your touch. “The thing is I’m at work, a little flirting is okay, but people seem to forget that the later it gets. And the easiest way to get them to back off and not cause a scene is this one.” You held up your ring to show him. “This works way better than the I’ve got a boyfriend excuse and don’t even get me started on the girlfriend option.” 
“So why not say anything to me?” Jake finally asked. 
You shrugged. “How should I have known you’d be different back then? And you already noticed it. I didn’t know if you were really interested and that you started asking questions.” 
“Just wanted to make sure you know if you say the word I’ll back down. Will you say the word?” His eyebrow rose while he stared at you, waiting for your answer. 
“Jury is still out. My break is over, if you want to see me you must visit me at the bar,” you threw a wink at Jake before you walked back to the kitchen to return the dishes. 
+ 1 time you didn't need the ring
“Hey darling, okay for me to come in?” you heard Jakes before you saw him. He was standing in the doorway with the sun behind him, so you told yourself this was the reason it was hard to look at him. 
“Sure,” you nodded and he stepped inside. “You alone?” 
“Yeah,” he confirmed and walked towards the bar where you were stacking glasses. “I’m actually here to tell you we’re leaving for a short while so you wouldn’t worry about,” he kind of rambled at the end it caused you to look up at him and stop your task. 
“Are you nervous?” you finally asked. 
“Me? Never!” He tried to sound confident, but you saw right through him. 
“You know how long you’ll be gone?” The walk around the counter towards him was quick and you put your arms around him and pulled him close to you to your first actual hug. It didn’t take him long to return the gesture and his arms found their way around your middle. 
“Not allowed to share,” he mumbled and you noticed how some weight dropped from his shoulder. 
“Okay, well come back safe.”  
He promised you that and let go after a while. It seemed like neither of you were ready for that. 
“Hangman!” He stopped at your yelling just before he was about to leave the place. “Bring back everyone else home too.” 
“Yes, ma’am,” he saluted and left quickly. 
“Keep them coming, sweets. And add whatever you want to and join us.” 
“Thank you, I’m working. But I’ll bring a new round shortly,” you said and sidestepped the table and the outstretched arm to go back to the bar. So far this group wasn’t a real bother, but you had to be careful when the night progressed. And three rounds later they got kind of rowdy telling you to join them again. It was more demanding this time. 
“Is there a problem here?” you suddenly heard a voice behind you and when you turned around you saw Jake behind you. Before you could think about it your arms wrapped themselves around his neck and you hugged him. 
“You’re back! Are you okay, are the others?” Over his shoulder you could see Fanboy, Rooster and Coyote while you spotted a few others making their way over to the pool table. 
“You haven’t answered his question. Is there a problem here?” Roosters smile that he sent your way was gone quickly when he mustered the guys at the table. 
“No problem here at all,” one man said with his arms raised in defense. 
“I sure hope so, we have no problem throwing you overboard,” Jake told them and took your hand and pulled you towards the bar. “Where is your ring?” he asked when he noticed the lack of jewelry. 
“Don’t know. Felt kind of wrong wearing it now,” you shrugged. 
“How about we make a deal?” he asked and you just realized how close the two of you were. “You don’t have to wear it when I’m around. I’ll take care of everything then. You can wear it when I’m not here and you can tell them that you have someone that already takes care of you.” 
“Do I?” you asked cheekily, but you had also noticed that everything had shifted with Jake. And his lack of flirting with others. 
“Always had. Let me take you out,” he said and everything else disappeared when his forehead pressed against yours and he stared into your eyes. 
“Okay,” you breathed, and your lips almost touched. “But I must get back to work now. See you in my break?” you asked and he nodded which caused you to laugh as your faces were still touching. “See you later, Jake.” You finally walked away and didn’t see the clap Jake got on his back from his friends while he still looked after you with a lovesick look on his face. 
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thatfreshi · 8 months
Text
We, are going to be okay - Astarion x Reader
TW - self-harm
I don't write angst often but this concept just hit me too hard not to try and execute. Astarion tries taking others' perception of him into his own hands, and it comes with a cost.
Recommended Song: What Was I Made For? - Billie Eilish
For as long as you and Astarion have lived together, he starts every day the same. Then again, the both of you are creatures of habit, and you usually wake up soon after he does. Your lover can be found in front of the vanity, trimming away at whatever isn't perfect. He'll take scissors to dead ends, cut his cuticles, occasionally pluck eyebrows if they happen to be out of line. He does this every. Single. Morning.
At this point you're used to waking up to the sound of blades running through hair, a slight hum from Astarion as he focuses on all the details of his perfect appearance. Sometimes he doesn't even notice that you've woken up. Despite not being able to see his reflection, he's quite precise. And you have never once questioned this ritual of his.
You then are awoken by a cry of pain, a most unusual noise at dawn.
"Darling?"
You ask groggily, wondering if perhaps he cut a nail back too far. You wipe the wave of sleep from your eyes, trying to focus over at the vanity.
Red.
Red down his face. Suddenly you're soberly awake, and you stumble out of bed to see what he's done now.
"It's alright my love, just a knick."
Shaking voice, he wipes the blood off his face, and it just pours more. A slash clean across his cheek.
"That is absolutely not a knick!"
You grab a nearby rag and start applying pressure to the cut.
"How in the nine hells did you manage to do this?"
He pauses before answering, and then simply shrugs. You notice he grabs something off the vanity table, quick enough you don't see what.
"Who knows, perhaps we have a poltergeist?"
While Astarion is usually a fantastic liar, he has slowly lost the skill around you. You get suspicious, as he's still shaking from the wound. Gazing at the table, you notice everything is where he leaves it, in it's nice tidy place. Scissors back in their hiding place.
"Astarion, my love, what are you hiding from me?"
He says nothing, averting his gaze.
"Darling, please, tell me."
You take his hands in yours, bloody rag set aside. He still refuses to make eye contact. Instead, he wriggles his hands out of yours and goes to grab something out of his boot. A dagger. He tosses it on the floor. It's so slick in crimson that some red specks fall on the hardwood floor. Suddenly he chokes up, unable to speak as you keep staring at his dagger.
"Oh my love, my precious one."
You also find yourself at a loss for words, as your throat closes and the tears form at your eyes. You look back up at him. He seems ashamed, embarrassed, frightened by the blade on the floor.
"Why?"
Your voice cracks, almost unable to get the single word out into the air. You retrace your steps back to his hands, squeezing them tight, as if he'll evaporate in your grasp.
"I... I don't know. I just sat down and all of a sudden, there was all this rage, all this sorrow. I can't even see myself and everyone just decides everything they need to know about me based on something I'll never be able to comprehend. A barmaid assuming I'll flirt to get a free drink, a stranger whispering to a confidant whilst eyeing me up and down. This body, it's only ever been a facade, a trap to pull people in, a tainted memory of Cazador's reign. And I thought about upkeeping it once again, and I just-"
He is cut off by another sob. You have no idea what to say. You had no idea he was struggling like this, that he felt so judged.
"It's okay darling, it's okay."
There's nothing. You are filled by the void. You've heard the stories, Astarion going through hell and back. You've been awoken by the nightmares, you've had the long talks about his boundaries, but you never thought he would ever hurt himself. Somehow that twists your heart worse than any stories of vampire lords and monster hunters. But right now, it's not about you pitying him. He needs you.
You wipe at your eyes once more and go to check on his wound. You silently thank the fact that he's as meticulous about sharpening his weapons as he is about everything else. As you dab at the wound again, he tries to speak. You pause, to try and let the words come out. He grabs onto your forearm, holding on as if you're going to disappear.
"Do you think it'll scar?"
You shake your head immediately.
"No, it won't. I'll get whatever healer we have to, I'll pay whoever we need to."
A vampire bite, a cruel poem, he didn't need one more reminder of the past.
"I'm sorry."
You hold his head in your hands, wiping away at the mist falling down his face.
"It's okay. You'll be okay. We, are going to be okay."
He gives you a pain-ridden smile, something unsure resting on his lips, but he trusts you. He trusts that you're there for all of it, the drunken nights in town, the flirtatious glances, the moments where he forgets he's home. He reciprocates your affirmation.
"Okay."
Somehow you feel a little bit better, that you're here for him. It's going to be a lifetime of ups and downs, but you'd only want to share them with him, and he's grateful. The good, the bad, and the ugly, that's what they all say. And you'll be there for all three.
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ventismacchiato · 9 months
Text
42 behind the lens — curtain call !
epilogue
scaramouche x gender neutral reader
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It’s at the times between recording scenes where you really get a glimpse at your lover.
His sweat stained hair and tear stained cheeks from a rather intense scene never get old. You were feeling rather fond as he made his way over to you, falling into your director’s chair and heaving a heavy breath. The only one other than you allowed to sit in it.
For a mere moment, you both simply look at each other. You guys were on break so a few conversation topics come to mind, it wasn’t often you guys got to speak as lovers rather than coworkers during work. And while they’re all things you’d like to talk to Scaramouche about, you realize you don’t need to force conversation with him.
There’s a hue of weariness that shows in Scara’s eyes, but you can tell that he’s happy. He’s doing what he’s been striving to do for all his years at university, so of course he is.
You search his dark eyes for his thoughts, too. When your eyes meet Scara’s he let’s out a tired smile.
“I missed you,” he easily says. The words come out easier than they would’ve years ago.
Your heart skips a beat, even years later.
“How? We’ve been working together all day,” you say.
“Do I need a reason to miss the person I love?” Scara scoffs, looking away from you to study the script he brought with him.
It isn’t the first time Scaramouche had told you that he loves you, but it’s never stopped holding the same weight it did the first time he’d ever said it.
It’s a rare type of love. The kind that exists so rarely for people in this industry and that lead lives similar to your guys’.
His loves makes you feel alive everyday. And Scara should know it, you should tell him more often—even if it’s rather dramatic for midday on set for their most recent project. It’s something you’d bring up at night that you two could laugh about in bed. Even if it catches Scara off guard.
But Scaramouche’s love caught you off guard, too, and every second you got the privilege to spend with him was a gift.
And as you stare at him, fiddling with the sleeves of his costume and eyebrows scrunched as he mouths his lines, you couldn’t help but feel your heart grow heavy.
“I suppose you don’t,” you reply, a minute too late, but Scara still chuckles at your response as he tosses the script aside.
“What? You’re not going to say it back?” he teases, “And I thought I was the emotionally constipated one.”
“Oh, fuck off,” you mutter, hitting him on the shoulder, “I love you, too. I guess.”
“Archons, you’re worse than me.”
“No, you were much worse when we were younger!”
“It was hot and mysterious when I did it.”
“Uh huh, just go back to set I’m sick of you.”
“Weird way to say you agree but okay.”
“Go!”
.
.
.
୨⎯ THE END ⎯୧
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behind the lens !
masterlist — prev
author’s notes — and that’s a wrap folks! hope the ending wasn’t awkward i just wanted it to be short and sweet. anyway, thank u to everyone who read and kept up with this fic, means a lot to me that this blew up as it was smth i wrote for myself. if ur rereading this or are a reader in the future ty to you too! i appreciate the silent readers, anons, and ppl who left me sm cute comments and reblogs. u guys made writing it more fun and easier to ignore the not so nice ppl. i cant reply to everyone but just know i do read every ask and comment i get! i do hope to see u guys in my notifs in the future even if i don’t write for genshin anymore, but if not then i’m glad you gave my writing a chance <3 have a great day/night byebye
synopsis — you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?
taglist — @captainzep @elysiumarchieve @plinkuro @sakkakuu-squared @eliqusgenma @vuvulia @kunikuzushiit @ins4nebish @stxrgxzxr @lilacponds @uma-umie @mitsukifilms @caesars-bubbles @wheneverthesunrise @its-like-twilight @kazuhalvrr @erosdevil @thenightsflower @p1utto @noodleshark420 @lxry-chxn @court-jester-stuff @lauragalliart @veyu002 @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @leathernourishingshoepolish @courtneydefender @drunkwithfever @exhaustedcommunist @vincanzu @ainlaw @ovaliz @kitsuvil @whatamidoing89 @celestair @kunihaver @kazioli @xiaosoneandonly @cridtiins @cherrybeomgyu @asukahiriko @moon-320 @orionicchaos @cartierfiles [1/3]
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hollowtones · 10 months
Note
first yiik impressions?
Hi. Thanks for your message. I've been thinking about this for days. I wrote paragraphs. Here you go!
Everyone talks up how the game is bad, but I've never looked into it much myself, so I went in with an expectation along the lines of "people whose opinions I often agree with think it was an awful mess, I'll likely think something similar". Expectations were low. Even then I wasn't really ready.
"YIIK" is a game of tedium. I don't think it's a game about tedium, that's something different (though it could be, if it was a different video game altogether; "what if the world was made of pudding" etc). To some degree I think the tedium is by design but I'm not really sure what it's in service of.
I don't think tedium in a video game is a bad thing. "Morrowind" and "Breath of the Wild" are two video games I like very much, and some of my favourite memories of those games are of slowly wandering through empty expanses, or having to suddenly deal with equipment degrading or supplies dwindling because I forgot to prepare. Moments like that feel thoughtful! They're interesting moments of reprieve or of tension that feel thoughtfully and intentionally designed! "YIIK" feels like trudging through chest-deep molasses so it can shout "hey did you know you're stuck in my molasses right now? that's weird, why are you stuck in my molasses right now? did you notice?" directly into your ear.
You'll notice this is a pattern.
Combat is turn-based and involves completing little minigames, timing button prompts or hitting targets or some such. It's a cute idea that wears out its welcome when you start realizing how long every single one takes to resolve, especially when you have multiple party members, and sometimes multiple enemies (I'm told this part specifically gets more egregious as the game goes on). I don't think it's awful or unsalvageable but I'm not super into it as of the point we're at.
This is a pattern.
Leveling up is a manual process that you have to unlock, and it involves going to a save point (any save point? we didn't check), to enter the Mind Dungeon, to enter the actual Mind Dungeon, to walk down a set of stairs and enter individual doors one-by-one, so that you can choose how you want to allocate stat increases, so that you can walk down a different set of stairs to commit your choices and spend your banked experience to level up. I think "you can only power up at specific points / times / locations" and the granularity of stat growth are interesting ideas, and the environment they made for it are a charming idea, and I don't think it needed to be a "Hotel Mario" level that you had to slowly walk through. It could have been a menu. They could have used the resources for a nice background or backdrop for a menu that accomplishes the same thing.
This is a pattern.
I haven't really mentioned anything about the story or writing yet. The protagonist's name is Alex and he's a very self-important nerdy misanthropic dickhead white man (a very specific kind of guy that I've definitely met at least once or twice) who is obsessed with a paranormal message board populated by people like him and desperate to find out more about the disappearance of a woman he witnessed. (The woman & her disappearance are based on the real life death of Elisa Lam & aren't handled with a whole lot of tact, IMO, but other people have put this into better words than I can right now. It sucks. It keeps coming up and it makes me bristle every time.) Alex is a bad person. I know he is. You know he is. The game knows he is. I've seen some reviews say a negative point of the game is "the main characters aren't likeable", which I don't really get, because that's the point of the characters, as far as I can tell. The issue, then, is how much time the game takes to exposit at you how bad the characters are. It's exhausting. Every time Alex has a monologue, it feels like it sums up to 10 minutes of "I am a bad person. I am a bad person. Alex is a bad person. This character is a bad person. Do you get it? He's a bad person. Alex is a bad person. Do you understand yet, player? Alex is a bad person. You should know that he's a bad person. Do you get it?"
This is a pattern.
(I don't know how interested I am in bringing up the game's lead writer right now, if at all, but there's a well-known anecdote where he talks about wanting to write a story about a bad person who is forced to grapple with himself and do better, and how the reason why his game wasn't well-received was because people who play video games didn't get it & weren't ready for a story like that. I dunno. I can understand being upset about negative reception to something you poured time and sweat into, and saying something hasty because of it. "Final Fantasy 4" is a beloved RPG classic, though, and "Disco Elysium" came out the same year to overwhelming praise. I haven't played either of these yet, though, so I'll admit maybe I'm off the mark here.)
The characters we've met so far (i.e. the ones that aren't unnamed NPCs) are… well. There's a smarmy younger kid who idolizes(?) Alex & also made the aforementioned paranormal website. So far it seems like he mostly exists to go "hey fuck you Alex, you dickhead" and immediately say something even more insensitive. There's the insensitive based-on-a-real=ass-dead-woman elevator woman, who immediately disappeared from the narrative while still being an essential part of the narrative. There was a dead(?) robot in a bedroom, who had a choir of ominous hooded people monologue about how weird and sad and strange and uncanny the scene is. What the!? There's a woman who works at the arcade and has Powers. Her design's cute. (I feel like, generally, the game's visuals are Fine. The audio, too. That all ranges from Just Fine to Surprisingly Neat. I don't really have much issue with those aspects of the game, but I don't have much to say about them either.) Alex and Kid Whose Name I Didn't Care To Remember are constantly very uncomfortable to her, because she's a woman and because she isn't white, in the 15 or so minutes we've seen her on-screen, and she gets to tell them off, but then immediately kind of goes "well whatever I can smile and put up with this and hang out with you". It feels misogynistic. I know to some degree Alex is misogynistic on purpose, because the game is bludgeoning your skull in and yelling "ALEX IS SHITTY TO WOMEN! AND PEOPLE OF COLOUR! DO YOU GET IT? HE'S SELF ABSORBED IN A SHITTY WAY! DO YOU GET IT, PLAYER? YOU UNDERSTAND THAT ALEX SUCKS ASS YET? MAYBE 10 MORE MINUTES OF THIS WILL MAKE IT CLICK?" But for a woman of colour (the only one we've seen so far who isn't Probably Just Dead) to finally tell him off for being a shithead, only to turn around and go "well it's ok, you're cool now, let's hang out now because it's narratively convenient and you're the protagonist" is pretty damn egregious!
This is a pattern.
Writing in general feels stilted and long-winded. Most of the main characters feel like they don't talk like people do. Alex gets to feel like a person but that's mostly because he gets to talk to himself so damn much. Most of his monologues feel like overly flowery prose, like someone padded it out with identical adjectives to meet a school essay word count. There's an interesting idea or premise or setpiece every now and then. There's a spark. A glint of something compelling. Every single time this has happened so far I find it immediately snuffed out by an over-blown "oh my god!!!!!!! how weird!!!!!!', or a very long plot dump, or a Joss Whedon-ass quip. There can be no small moment of joy. No story element or visual element can stand on its own legs. There can be no room for ideas to breathe. No space for the player to wonder, to dream, to play in the space. The narrative is compelled to suffocate iself on itself, to take up all space, to swallow itself whole in its making. One very minor (so far?) side character has some interesting dialogue in this one dream world, and I think "oh that's neat", and then I learn they're lines taken wholesale from a book (and I think that's fine, reference is fine, but I have a bit of a chuckle over the fact that this character is the reason why the game has a giant REFERENCES option in the main menu). The literal first minute of the game is a bird telling you "oh my god, the title of this game, right? why'd they spell it like that? so fucking dumb, am I right!" It feels insecure. It reads like the writing has no confidence in itself. It has to make a comment about how silly and video-gamey it is, roll its eyes at itself, mock itself for the thing it's doing while continuing to do it without addressing it or discussing it or doing anything with it.
This is a pattern.
There's a specific part of "YIIK", at this early point in the game (we're only around the start[?] of chapter 2), that feels emblematic of the thing as a whole up to this point. Alex is getting phone calls from a stranger. They're confusing and weird and sound a little like something you might hear in a dream. They make references to some shared past, some childhood, some understanding of Alex, or maybe of you, the player. They've come up a few times. Every single time, I'm left thinking about what it could mean, how it fits in with everything we've seen so far & what the game seems to be talking about, with regards to connecting to other people and to yourself. It's a neat little thing. It's a neat idea. I'm charmed by it. As much as my thoughts on this game are largely negative, I still try to look at it fairly, to understand it, to talk about it, to let myself be surprised by it. As soon as I find myself thinking about this, my thoughts are immediately drowned out by Alex telling me how weird the phone call is, how random and uncanny and dumb this is, and how he's rolling his proverbial eyes about it, in spite of all the other paranormal happenings around him, for another period of Just Too Long. And I am sapped of all strength and I crumble to dust.
I'm genuinely transfixed. I'm transfixed! Maybe the fact that I wrote Paragraphs about the 4-or-5 hours I've seen of the game can tell you as much, even if you skip everything I wrote in them.
I can't wait to see more.
This, too, is a pattern.
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