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#the more i look back the more obvious the signs were
apdreadful · 1 day
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Anyone saying that Tommy is just convenient, he’s just a stepping stone, or Buck is confused and projecting his feelings for Eddie onto Tommy. Denial is not a river in Africa.
Buck didn’t just roll out of bed one morning and decide “I am declaring myself to be bisexual! And starting today, I’m looking for a guy”
Buck has ALWAYS been bisexual. So the whole time we have known Evan Buckley, he has been attracted to men.
However, it’s very likely had never really sat with and processed what to do about that attraction prior to meeting Tommy. Never acted on it prior to Tommy. Never made it as obvious to anyone before Tommy.
In retrospect, the signs were definitely there, before Tommy.
The catalyst for the change? Is Tommy.
He made the conscious decision to go see Tommy when he had no damn reason to. He wasn’t thinking of leaving the 118, he just wanted a reason to see him again. I don’t think Buck actively processing “I want to date this man” he just wanted “something” and Tommy was part of that something. But he had no damn idea how to get his brain wrapped around what exactly he was planning to do with those feelings “Huh, this is more…what do I do now?” Hence the basketball game.
And I don’t know if it was before Tommy came over or if seeing Tommy standing there in his apartment made those pieces finally click into place for Buck.
(Personally I’m leaning toward that “Well not at the same time” response to teaching him Muay Thai. Because there was no mistaking THAT look that Tommy gave him)
Because if you have ever been into someone and are even the tiniest bit queer, you saw that dance for exactly what it was.
The subtle signs, the shifting in atmosphere, the carefully chosen words, way their bodies started mirroring each other as they moved closer.
Tommy having more experience with this dance, started getting the inkling this may be going SOMEWHERE...So he took that chance and dropped the “Well probably not at the same time”with THAT look. That look was a whole sentence.
Now Buck’s awakening bisexuality, understood that look. And those butterflies starting flying and he stepped right up and said “I have been trying to get your attention”
He decided THIS man. Right here. Is the one that I want enough- choose to just lay it all out for.
Now for any baby bi THAT is a big damn leap. Because you think you know..But you don’t have the experience to know if you’re reading the signs right.
Brass Tacks my lovelies is..
Buck wanted Tommy..he wasn’t entirely sure for what. But he knew it was Tommy specifically.
And if you think he’s projecting his feelings about Eddie onto Tommy. Go back and look at that first episode Eddie shows up at the 118 in.
Buck wanted to be in that firefighter calendar, and he saw Eddie as competition to getting that which he wanted. Eddie was his competition. Did he recognize that he was competition because he also looked hot af?
Yep.
So when Tommy catches Bucks interest, once again Buck finds himself in competition against Eddie for the thing he wants, which this time is Tommy’s attention. And because Eddie is his best friend, and he knows Eddie is awesome. In Bucks head, Eddie is worthy competition for Tommy’s attention. It doesn’t matter that Eddie isn’t interested in Tommy the same way Buck is.
If it were Eddie that Buck really wanted, why tf hadn’t he asked Eddie to teach him Muay Thai? They’ve been friends for years. Why had Buck not been interested in the basketball game prior to Tommy’s appearance??
Buck is bi. And it was the hot dish casserole that is Tommy Kinard that made all those little “huh” moments click into “well that’s makes sense” place.
So stop playing at being flat earthers.
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yourdakg · 3 days
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Donation Found 2!
It took a little while longer than expected, but we finally found an appropriate donor for Brick! Brick was in desperate need of a donation. As the owner of a high quality gym and something of a fitness influencer, he was catching a lot of shit for not showing any empathy to his clientele or, in general, people who weren't in peak condition.
Maybe that's what scared some donors off, the sheer ego of having to maintain a physique like Brick's. But, by God, he paid the $325,000 to get his new body. Did he read the contract? No. But he insisted the customer is always right and he demanded action from the team at Turnaround Technologies.
Not that he could help how he looked, he was always athletic as a kid. Football, wrestling, water polo, gymnastics. He hit the weights hard as soon as high school started. And now he's a fitness enthusiast's wet dream. Let's remind everyone where Brick is starting this journey:
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But thankfully we were able to find someone who fit the bill for Brick. This is someone who has the ego, the drive, and... honestly, a lot of the same toxic masculinity that Brick has. Just in a different form. So honestly it's a perfect match. Which we were relieved to find. After all, Brick doesn't fully understand the permanence of this yet. So let's take a look at our donor plate:
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Meet Lemmy Chungus. A man who is almost permanently online, a moderator for the r/gayincel subreddit, a prolific user of 4chan, and a man with a subscription to 12 OnlyFans pages and PornHub Premium. He has an interesting take on why this exchange should work.
Donor Statement: This world has winners and losers. I am naturally born to be a dominant male, and it's becoming clear to me that Brick doesn't understand the role he is supposed to have. It's not fair that some buff fuckboy was deprived of the body he needs to match his true, inner self. It's obvious he wants this, so let's seal the deal and make this exhange.
I have to admit, we hear at Turnaround hadn't thought about it like that, adjusting two men into their, perhaps, more honest selves. It really is a public service. Both subjects are being stripped down, injected with serum, and placed in their uniforms as our technicians prepare the chambers.
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Just prior to taking Brick's final "before" photo, he was informed that the contract had been signed, this medicine injected, and that his fate was sealed. Of course, we expected him to fight us a bit when told it was one way, one trip per lifetime, and permanent. Instead we were shocked that the young man started to cry.
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Patient Statement: What do you mean permanent? What do you mean *sniff* 'new lot in life'? I don't understand why you're taking my designer underwear. I'll never wear it again? Wh-why not? I'll be fit again! What do you mean role adjustment? Huh? I dunno what a gaycel is. I don't spend a lot of time on the Internet. Whadda ya mean that's gonna be most of what I do now? *Sniffsob* I'm still an alpha. I *sniff* wanna change my mind. I don't understand. This body isn't legally mine anymore? I'm *sniff* I'll be a good boy, please!
So docile! He's really sliding into his new role quite well, and we're all very pleased. Brick was injected again when he saw the donor body, and his eyes almost went cross from shock. There will be a stiff financial penalty for requiring several staff members dragging his muscular body to the chamber.
The process was a difficult one. As the waves started to swing back and forth, Brick was grabbing his dick and squeezing his own pectorals as if to hold onto them. The beams and serums and molecule destabilization took days. It's like his body didn't want to assume a new role. But we held out hope that eventually the assault of our technology and pharmacology would win out and he would be shoved, unalterably, into his new body. So I'm happy to report the following:
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As you can see, both men are now secured in their new bodies, roles, and lifestyles.
Patient Report: Ohhh God. It's hard to move, it's hard to move. I heard some fat guys had power, but he's... got none. I have none. Oh fuck. I'll get back in the gym and... look at him. What a slut, strutting around in that thong with a muscled up ass. Like he's some hotshot. He's not! Why does it make me so angry???
Donor Report: Chances are there a lot of other losers out there who have hot, buff bodies. Cute faces. Huge dicks. Guys who look like they should be on top, but know they're a beta bitch at heart. Stop being selfish. Ask for a donation today and let the real alphas assume their natural position.
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bonafideyapper · 3 days
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THE TRADER'S DAUGHTER - cooper "the ghoul" howard x female!oc (part 3)
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Warnings: weird age gap (Daisy is mid-20s, Cooper is…upwards of 200.); drug use (mentions of weed); mentions of alcohol use; badly written almost-smut; dbf!cooper (and as always, proofread to the best of my ability)
(This part takes place immediately following part 1, expect this series to be present/past/present/past)
part 1 part 2 masterlist
my requests are open!
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As Daisy finished locking up the shop for the night, her mind lingered on the ghoul that sat upstairs with her father. Other than the obvious inappropriate thoughts about Cooper, she was looking forward to sitting and listening to his stories again. Forever the storyteller, Cooper could have her hooked for hours. 
Securing the bolts on the door and taking the more valuable items with her upstairs, she met up with the two men in their living space. Coop had made himself comfortable by now, his hat off and sitting on the table as a sign of respect towards his hosts. Daisy took notice of the way his shoulders were tensed despite being in a safe space, coming up with a plan to help him… loosen up. The two men were trapped in a debate about who was the better shot when the girl walked in, and Cooper immediately took the chance to get a second opinion.
“Daisy, settle this debate we’re havin’ here. Your old man is sayin’ that he’s a better shot than I am, what do you think of that?” Cooper leaned back in his seat, the cup of whiskey held loosely in his hand as he trained his eyes on the woman. 
Daisy flashed him a smirk and shrugged as she locked away their cap stash, tucking the key back in a safe space on her person. “Well I dunno, I think Coop’s a pretty good shot, dad.” She came over to the table and grabbed the cup from Cooper’s grasp, finishing the dark liquor in one smooth shot.
“I think I’m the better shot out of the three of us, though.” Daisy winked at Cooper and set the cup back down on the table. 
“Damn, Daze, no vote of confidence for your own father?” Josiah stared at his daughter in fake shock, leaning forward to refill the empty cup for his friend before setting the near-empty bottle back on the table. Josiah had been saving that bottle for a long time, waiting for the right time to open it and celebrate something. Now was as good a time as any, seeing as how Cooper had made his way back to their corner of the universe in one piece. 
Cooper watched the girl take the liquor down like it was nothing, not even the slightest grimace across her face as the burn slid down her throat. He had gotten tougher in the wasteland, but it was becoming clear that she, too, had gone through some things to conform herself to survive the world around her. 
“Nope, I know for a fact I’m better than you, dad.” Daisy grinned as she pulled up a chair to the table, sitting down and reaching for the pack of cigarettes lying on the table. She rolled her own much of the time, and made pretty great money on the side by selling special hand-rolled cigarettes. She had found a dealer that specialized in old-world drugs like marijuana and tobacco, so she took whatever she could get. Daisy put the small stick between her lips and lit a match, holding the flame to the end and inhaling slowly to get the effects of the drug within. 
“When’d you pick that up?” Cooper nudged her arm with his cup, gesturing towards the smoking cigar between her pretty little fingers. “Never picked you to be the smokin’ type, darlin’.” 
Daisy would be lying if that little old nickname didn’t make her stomach ache with want as it slipped from the ghoul’s mouth, pretending like it had no effect on her as she took a drag from the joint. “I dunno, couple years ago I guess? Helps me sleep at night.” She joked, which wasn’t a full lie. Sometimes she smoked to help herself sleep, but a lot of the time she smoked to cope with the reality they lived in. Whatever, made her some extra caps on the side.
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The three sat around the table until well into the night, only dissolving when Josiah spoke up and said he was headed to bed. He bid Cooper a goodnight and leaned down to kiss his Daisy on her head before he disappeared into his bedroom. 
Cooper turned his attention to his little flower when he heard Josiah’s door latch shut, a smirk on his face as he watched her. “You’ve grown up a whole lot since the last time I seen you.” He emphasized his words, letting his eyes wander down to her chest again. Oh how he wished he could get her out of that thin tank top and godforsaken jeans, to show her what a real man was like. 
“I guess I have, huh?” Daisy licked her lips as she tapped her second joint out in her ashtray, the motion like second nature to her as she never took her eyes off of the ghoul. 
“Mhmm, I remember you bein’ a chubby little kid, wild as a June bug on a string.” Cooper moved his eyes over her body, smirking at the confused look on her face at the unfamiliar comment. Before she could open her mouth to inquire about the foreign insect, he was leaning into her space, close enough to hear her heartbeat in the quiet room. 
“You’re a mighty fine lookin’ woman, now, little flower.” Cooper moved in to whisper in her ear, noticing how the girl had essentially stopped breathing. He watched as a bead of sweat dripped lower, lower, lower, until it disappeared into the space between her breasts. There was nothing stopping him from reaching out to her, putting his mouth against her smooth, delicate skin and licking the trail of sweat up to her neck. Nothing preventing him from putting his rough hands all over her tanned skin, nothing stopping him from bending her over the table in front of him. 
Nothing except her father, and his closest friend, in the next room. 
Daisy felt her cheeks go scarlet at the closeness of his body to hers, wanting nothing more than to jump the ghoul’s bones. “Come on, Coop, you ain’t even seen me since I was a kid-” she tried to argue, although she was beyond thrilled to find out he was just as attracted to her as she was to him. “Ain’t I a little young for you?” She looked up at him with those big ol’ chocolate eyes of hers, the words hanging in the air between them. 
“Darlin’, I think any woman I meet up here might be a lil’ bit outta my age range.” Cooper snorted as he pulled away before he could really touch her the way he had been craving since the moment he saw her all grown up. He hadn’t been with a woman in a mighty long time, but he felt like he was on the verge of going feral when Daisy laid her eyes on him. He was itchin’ to put his hand on her thigh, wanting to see the way her eyes fluttered closed at the intimate touch. He wanted to slide his hand up her thigh, wanted to brush his fingers over that sweet spot that she’d be begging him to finally touch. 
“You’re like a tall drink o’ water, and sweetheart, I’m just dyin’ of thirst.” Cooper moved back to whisper in her ear, smirking as he trailed his lips over the shell of her ear. 
Daisy wasn’t a virgin, by any means. She had fooled around with many of the teenage boys that had presented themselves to her in her youth, but she hadn’t spent any time with a man since she was in her teens. At this moment, however, she was almost ashamed to admit that her body was reacting as if she had never been touched before. Her thighs clenched together to try and quell the ache between her legs, her hand reaching over to grab his as though she could read his mind while she put his large palm on her leg.
“Ohh, ya want me to touch ya, huh?” Cooper spoke in a hushed tone so as to not alert to her father in the next room what was about to happen. “What happened to you’re too young for me?” He squeezed her thigh with a strong grip, a wide grin coming to his face as he coaxed her thighs open. 
“Coop, I-” Daisy breathlessly whispered, overwhelmed by the man and his voice and his hands. Lord have mercy, his hands, those hands that she had dreamed about touching her in ways that would make angels cry. The hands that had strangled a man to death for threatening her. 
“I want you to touch me.”
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a/n: Hello ghoulfuckers! There’s no smut YET but I promise it’s coming. This is the first part I’m posting on my new blog (find part 1 and 2 on my old blog) – Wanted to get something out to make sure people follow here instead of @sixx-sixx-sixx
taglist: @savanahc @one-of-thewalkingdead @silverose365 @neverendingdumptser
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malyce19 · 1 day
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Hi.
I’m working on coming back to the world of fic writing after a very long hiatus. TLDR I got sober and had a baby and my perspective on the whole world changed, as it does. So if you’ve liked my fics in the past, I’m sorry I’ve been MIA for so long. Here’s a teaser of what I’m working on right now. It’s called State Lines.
“there’s no such thing as a clean break when your heart starts bleeding out.” - chance peña
Day 1
She sold her penthouse and bought the car. A gray sedan, plenty of room for all of the belongings she cared enough to travel with. Nothing flashy, something reliable and low maintenance that wouldn’t call too much attention to her presence as she made her escape. All that mattered to her was that the car’s suspension wasn’t impacted by all of the emotional weight she was bringing with her on this journey to nowhere. She should have said something, she knows that. But what do you say when you’re leaving everything and everyone behind?
She didn’t know where she was going, not that it really mattered. She’d been driving for two days, only stopping for gas and compulsory restroom and food breaks. The more distance she could place between herself and blonde haired blue eyed loves of her life, the better. So she drove, vaguely eastbound with stinging eyes and an aching heart.
Miles passed and the road lines started to feel like metaphors, lines in the proverbial sand. Endless expanses of pavement and exit signs beckoned her forward, the promise of anonymity and rebirth lingering somewhere on the horizon as she drove. As her old life burned to cinders behind her, she felt less like a phoenix and more like a nondescript speck of ash, floating aimlessly on the wind. And maybe that’s all she was now, without her.
Day 3
By day three, Lena had to stop to sleep. She’d pushed herself as far as she could, coffee and disgustingly sweet energy drinks sustaining her only to the point of blurred vision and shaking hands. So she found a slightly innocuous looking hotel a few miles off the highway in northern Texas, pulling her borrowed (now stolen) NCU baseball cap down as far as it would go to obscure her features as she checked in. It helped, she supposed, that the kid behind the counter couldn’t drag his eyes away from the football game he was watching long enough to look her in the eye, so being recognized wasn’t an issue. She paid for the room in cash, as she had with everything else on this trip, and she tipped the boy an extra $100 bill to ensure housekeeping left the room alone until she’d checked out. Leaving a paper trail would defeat the purpose of a clean break, and she couldn’t risk being recognized by a well-meaning staffer trying to offer more towels.
In the safety of a locked hotel room, Lena took her hair down and tossed the duffle bag on the bed. It was getting dark out, and she closed the heavy curtains to keep her eyes from searching the clear sky for familiar streaks of red and blue. It was only a matter of time, she knew, before her absence would become obvious. She’d left LCorp on sabbatical, leaving Sam at the helm for the time being, vaguely committing to take the reins again sometime in the future. Her new phone was blissfully quiet, Sam and Jess the only two she trusted with the number. News alerts about superheroes and aliens and secret government agencies were disabled, and all that graced her lock screen was a stock photo of some rainy trees.
As she sat down on the bed, exhaustion starting to settle into every nerve, she couldn’t help but wonder how the hell she got here. Not physically, that was obvious. She bought a car and drove for three straight days until she realized she was endangering the other drivers (though there’d been very few) by continuing on like this. She just didn’t trust herself to keep going without rest, so here she was, in a Hilton hotel in fucking Lubbock, of all places. Trust. That’s what this all boiled down to, wasn’t it? Misplaced trust, betrayal of trust, lack of trust where it was dutifully earned with literal blood, sweat and tears. Trust, broken and shattered and disintegrated in one fell swoop with her former favorite person’s too-little-too-late confession.
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alackofghosts · 24 hours
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got tagged by tumblr user @fourteenthz (loved reading about thesa, by the way <3)! thank you very much!
— B A S I C S
name: lil guy i'm very shy, don't worry about it
nicknames: none based on his name, as it's quite short already, but will also respond to a fond and/or slightly exasperated "hero"
age: 33 as of 6.55
nameday: 27th sun of the 4th umbral moon
race: rava viera
gender: cis man
orientation: gay
profession: adventurer
— P H Y S I C A L     A S P E C T
hair: black, naturally wavy, very thick and soft
eyes: dark brown
skin: warm brown, freckles easily, especially his face
tattoos: none
scars: burn scar on his left shoulder from his fight with ifrit, another burn on his right thigh from nidhogg. a few other scrapes here and there. notable lack of any significant scarring from shb and beyond, because that's how i see astrologian healing working - he feels particularly strange about not having a scar from his fight with zenos in endwalker
— F A M I L Y
parents: he has not been back to his home village, for obvious reasons, so doesn't know - but assumes - his mother is still alive and well; never met his biological dad. but because he showed signs of. however the viera would call/conceptualise the inner beast, one of the women called in a favour with a wood warder who was also a warrior, to take him under his wing to train. said wood warder, however, was wholly at a loss what to do with a child, having never taken in a ward before and decided to seek out an old friend, who had since left the forest. ...long story short, he ends up being raised by an all-viera dalmascan resistance cell, who end up packing up and leaving with him in tow after almost being rooted out by garlean forces. he views most of them as Parental Figures and loves them dearly, even if some of them have scattered into the winds after he left to become an adventurer
siblings: he isn't aware of any biological siblings, but the village took a very communal approach to raising kids, so at the time he definitely felt like the other kids were his siblings, regardless of any blood relations. one of the men in the resistance cell was a 'mere' 30 or so years older than him, so he also counts more as a sibling than anything else in his eyes
grandparents: he has definitely met his maternal grandmother, but as with his mother, he's not been back home and doesn't know if she is still alive (but in all likelihood: yes)
in laws and other: THE TWINS. putting an exact name to what alisaie and alphinaud mean to him would honestly not be Good or Close Enough, but they are absolutely like family to him and a reason to keep on going. he also has a very sibling-like relationship with lyse, who is always ready and willing to match his energy, tag along for workouts and tease the hell out of him
pets: he befriends an amaro hatchling at the crystarium during shadowbringers and during a later visit, her handler notes that she's been looking glum without him around. he loves animals, but his living situation has been far too chaotic after becoming an adventurer to accommodate an animal (that isn't his chocobo, who, at least, is much easier to house) and hasn't felt particularly inclined to change that. but after endwalker, he finds himself actually wanting to change that and has the time to do it... so, with a little bit of help from feo ul, he has a little amaro friend with him now
— S K I L L S
abilities: war + drk + pld and all that that entails. skilled and formidable fighter, good at navigating/strategising through a fight on the fly, quick study (as far as fighting is concerned, anyway)
hobbies: working out (especially running and swimming), hiking, he's been learning to enjoy fishing after endwalker
— T R A I T S
most positive traits: protective, caring, insatiable lust for life
most negative traits: too willing to let other people do the talking for him, impulsive, stubborn
— L I K E S
colours: warm red, gold, the bright green of sunlight filtering through leaves
smells: fresh earth, cinnamon, a meadow in early summer, the savoury smell of the stew one of his dads used to make
textures: soft grass under bare feet, tree bark, skin on skin, the scratch of ardbert's beard
drinks: water, pineapple juice, lemonade
— O T H E R    D E T A I L S
smokes: no
drinks: only socially, and even then it's fairly rare. he did drink a little more often as a baby adventurer, mostly because he simply had more opportunities to do so: mingling was useful and it wasn't uncommon to have a rowdy bar night to celebrate a job well done. he is a bit of a lightweight and tends to withdraw when tipsy/drunk, so he actually has more fun when sober
drugs: also no (unless we're counting medicine for this. he won't be refusing painkillers if he's in pain etc.)
mount issuance: his beloved chocobo, who he dotes on very much, especially because it was something of a dream to have when he was just a baby adventurer - he could not have afforded to buy or maintain one at the time
been arrested: he's got in trouble for those rowdy bar nights - he's not the type to start a fight, but if someone were to pick a fight with him or his friends, by gods, he will be finishing it. no serious jail time, more like being hauled off with everyone else involved to sober up until morning, though
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lilacmingi · 23 hours
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THROUGH THICK AND THIN
My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works
Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x human!fem reader
Word count: 2,280
Note: This is from my first BTS imagines book on Wattpad from 2018. This version is the rewritten 2024 version! ALSO THANK YOU FOR 500 FOLLOWERS!!!! WOW
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It was early afternoon and you and your best friend, Jungkook, were at your place sitting on the couch watching a movie together. The film of choice was a vampire movie—one of your favorites. Your eyes were glued to the screen, knowing exactly what was about to happen, as the both of you had seen the movie roughly a hundred times.
Someone (a vampire) was about to jump out at the main character, you both saw it coming. At the same moment the person jumped out in the film, Jungkook grabbed you and shouted loudly causing you to yelp in response.
The force from his sudden and lighthearted attack caused you to fall over onto your back, thankful that you were on the couch.
Jungkook hovered over you with a mischievous grin, giving you no time to react as he pretended to bite your neck by making playful growling sounds and nuzzling his nose against your skin.
"Jungkook stop!" You begged through giggles, the ticklish sensation making it hard to speak.
"I'm a vampire!" He exclaimed, continuing to act silly.
You were laughing so hard you could hardly breathe, making minimal effort to stop him due to all your squirming. After a few attempts, you were finally able to push him away a little. He took that as a sign to stop and propped himself up to gaze down at you, the movie long forgotten.
"What would you do if I was actually a vampire?" He asked, his tone lighthearted.
"Hypothetically?"
"Of course."
You huffed out a light chuckle, amused by his question and always up for a little theoretical discussion about things like that.
"I wouldn't care. Vampires are literally my favorite supernatural creature. Plus, it's you. I know you wouldn't hurt me."
He grinned.
"But vampires aren't real, so I know you're not one."
His smile faltered a bit. "Yeah. They're not, are they?"
"But if they were, I wouldn't be bothered."
His smile returned.
He leaned down and gave you a light kiss on your forehead. Affectionate gestures like that weren't uncommon in your friendship, however, they didn't help your crush on Jungkook. As much as you had wanted to confess your feelings, you were also afraid that you were misinterpreting the gestures. Some people are just very affectionate, though you couldn't really recall anyone you knew that platonically kissed their friends.
"Do you like me or something?" The question was asked teasingly and in a playful manner, but you were hoping to get a serious response.
"What?" He asked, surprise lacing his tone.
"Well, you're always giving me little kisses on my face. Do you like me?" You tried to keep your tone light, playing it off as if you were just teasing him.
His expression changed and his eyes avoided yours. "Well..." He trailed off.
The mood shifted, turning more serious.
"Don't be afraid to be honest with me, Jungkook. We've known each other for three years." You encouraged him.
"Yes." He sighed, his eyes closing as if to avoid seeing your reaction.
"I knew it!"
"Y/n, don't embarrass me about it." He huffed.
"Why should you feel embarrassed? I feel the same way about you."
"You feel the same way?"
"Was it not obvious? I let you give me kisses all the time and cuddle with me. I don't ever push you away or tell you to stop. Could you not take a hint?"
"No?" He said it like a question.
"You big goober." You giggled and delivered a light smack to his shoulder.
"I'm not a goober." He defended through laughter. "I just wasn't sure how you felt. That's all."
Your joint laughter soon faded and the room went completely silent, the atmosphere changing in a matter of seconds. Jungkook stared down at you with his big and innocent-looking doe eyes that never failed to make your heart leap. He gulped nervously.
"Can I kiss you?" He asked.
"You kiss me all the ti-"
"On the lips." He specified.
The beating of your heart sped up at his request, only managing to utter a meek, "Yeah."
He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. He kissed you softly, being very gentle and almost hesitant in his actions at first. Only when you reciprocated did he pick up the pace, pressing his lips closer to yours and kissing you harder. What you were experiencing in that moment was nothing like you had ever imagined (and you did imagine it... many times). Raven strands of Jungkook's lengthy hair caressed your forehead as they fell, untucking themselves from behind his heavily pierced ears. The faint ticklish sensation paired with the feeling of his lips moving against your own and his hand that had found its way to your waist was a combination that made your head spin.
Bringing your hands up to his luscious hair, you slid your fingers between the layers of wavy tendrils, playing with his locks. He seemed to like that, as he released a mix between a groan and a sigh against your lips that had butterflies erupting in your stomach. It was after that he began to get rougher. His hands gripped your waist and then one of your thighs, squeezing so hard it almost hurt. The pace of his breathing got heavier and you could've sworn you heard a faint growl from the back of his throat.
He pulled away for only a moment, reattaching his lips to your jawline, his piercing dragging against your skin making your eyelids flutter. He placed hot kisses down the side of your neck where he started nipping at the sensitive skin. His hands went back to squeezing your waist, the inhuman grip making you wince.
As much as you enjoyed the moment, it was now getting to a point where it was no longer enjoyable for you and his intensity was making you nervous.
"J-Jungkook." You didn't mean to stutter, but things were heating up very fast and he didn't seem to realize how uncomfortable you were.
He nipped harshly at your neck, making you release a small squeak of surprise.
"Jungkook!"
As if your voice had broke through an invisible barrier, Jungkook snapped out of his daze and pulled away. He was breathing so heavily his shoulders were heaving up and down. His eyes were wide with fear as if he realized he was about to do something terrible.
He looked scared.
"What was that all about?" You inquired.
"I-I have to go." He scrambled off you and went to grab his keys.
"Jungkook-"
"I need to go right now, Y/n." His voice was firm as he spoke, walking out of your apartment without another word or even an explanation.
You sat there dumbfounded.
The door to your apartment slammed shut and just like that, you were left a confused and flustered mess on the couch.
He was in such a hurry to leave, barely managing to speak without stumbling over his words, it had you worried.
Was it something you did? Did he regret kissing you?
The longer you sat on the couch, stewing in your anxious thoughts, the worse you felt. It got to a point where it became unbearable and you found yourself reaching for your phone.
You
If I did something wrong, I'm sorry
You sighed, leaning your head back on the couch cushions to stare at the ceiling, memorizing the texture while worrisome thoughts flooded your mind once again.
After sitting for an unknown amount of time, you decided to go check on Jungkook in person. He hadn't responded to your text and it was beginning to worry you. If you had somehow done something to make him uncomfortable, you wanted to know and you wanted it taken care of right away. The both of you had been through thick and thin together. Good times and bad times. And if something was bothering either one of you, you talked about it.
The first place you drove to was a nearby park, a place where the both of you liked spending time at, but Jungkook was nowhere to be found. If he needed to clear his head, you assumed he would've been there. The only other place he could possibly be was home.
It didn't take long for you to arrive at his apartment building since he lived nearby. You hastened inside and went straight to his floor.
When you arrived at his front door, you didn't bother knocking. The both of you had been friends for years and neither of you usually knocked when you visited each other.
You stepped inside and saw Jungkook's keys lying on the floor along with the glass dish that usually held them. The bowl looked as if it had been knocked over and a huge piece was broken off of it.
Oh no.
Your first thought was that he was hurt, or maybe someone had broken in. You hoped it was neither.
"Jungkook?" You called out.
"Y/n?" His startled voice came from the kitchen.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." He answered frantically.
"The glass dish by your door is broken. I thought you cut yourself."
"No. I'm fine."
You proceeded towards the kitchen, only for him to speak up when he heard you approaching the entryway.
"Don't come in here!"
"Why not?"
"I-uh I lied. I did cut myself. Sorry. I didn't want you to worry about me."
"I can help if you want." You responded, stepping into the kitchen.
"No please don-" Jungkook tried to stop you, but before he could finish his sentence, you were already standing in the doorway.
What you had expected to see was nowhere near the sight you were met with.
Jungkook's beautiful and captivating rich brown eyes were a deep shade of red, his mouth smeared with blood that matched his crimson irises. As if that wasn't jarring enough, you spotted two sharp fangs poking out of his mouth, which hung slightly agape in shock.
"Y/n. Don't freak out."
"You're a..." The sentence went unfinished, as your voice was stuck in your throat. You were too stunned to even utter the word that floated about in your head.
"Please don't be scared."
Jungkook took a step towards you, but you instinctively took one back, your actions making him frown.
Too overwhelmed, you spun around and took off towards the front door, jerking it open and bolting out as fast as you could.
You didn't get very far when your legs slowed and you came to a complete stop in the hallway as your rational thinking finally kicked in. What were you doing?
Jungkook's words from earlier that night replayed in your head.
"What would you do if I was actually a vampire?"
Your expression fell into one of disappointment, your heart sinking. It wasn't just a silly question. He was being serious when he asked you that.
Your words came to the forefront of your mind, hitting you like a knife to the chest.
"I wouldn't care. Vampires are literally my favorite supernatural creature. Plus, it's you. I know you wouldn't hurt me."
Why were you running away? What you said to him earlier was true, though you assumed the question was theoretical. Still, your answer was genuine. And yet, here you are standing in the hallway of his apartment building ready to flee like a scared animal.
Not only that, but it was clear Jungkook didn't want you to see him like that. He tried to stop you from coming into the kitchen and yet, you ignored him. If only you had listened. Then again, you thought he was hurt. You were worried. How were you supposed to know he was only trying to hide his identity from you?
There was no time for overthinking, you had to make things right.
Spinning around on your heel, you hurried back inside Jungkook's apartment.
When you found him, he was leaned over the kitchen counter, sniffling. His head shot up when he heard you enter the room.
"Y/n?" Your name was uttered weakly.
Clearly, he wasn't expecting you to return.
The blood had been cleaned from around his mouth and his appearance had returned to normal.
"I'm sorry." Your apology came out in a pathetically feeble voice, your jaw clenching to stop the tears that threatened to well up in your eyes.
Wasting no time, you ran up and hugged him as tightly as you possibly could. He wrapped his arms around you, relaxing in your hold as a sense of relief washed over him like a soothing wave.
"You asked me what I would think if you were actually a vampire. I answered honestly, though I thought you were just asking silly hypothetical questions. Now I see why you asked it in the first place." You sighed. "I'm really sorry for running away. I was caught off guard and unable to process everything."
"It's okay. That's completely understandable. Besides, I shouldn't have kept it a secret from you."
You pulled back and looked at him, gently wiping his cheeks where he had been crying.
"Hey. Through thick and thin. Remember?"
He nodded.
"So... we confessed to each other earlier. Does that mean I'm dating a vampire?"
Jungkook chuckled. "I suppose it does. As long as you're okay with that."
"Are you kidding? I'm more than okay with it."
He grinned at your response, swiftly sweeping you into his arms.
"What do you say we pick up where we left off earlier?"
"I like the sound of that." You giggled as he attached his lips to yours and carried you off to his room.
Jimin ♱ Yoongi ♱ Taehyung ♱ Namjoon ♱ Hoseok ♱ Jin [COMING SOON]
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Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!
DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way
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marvelfanfics1 · 5 hours
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How do you think cg!Rafe would react to little!reader who has had a really bad day and is very deep in littlespace?
I'm not really happy with how this turned out but I tried 😭
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ ♡ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
You both had been invited to some family gathering by Rafe's dad. It was a fancy restaurant and many relatives were there which already made you nervous because you had the urge to be little since you woke up but decided to push that away for the sake of Rafe not canceling, knowing he would do that in a heartbeat but you wanted to impress his family since you still felt out of place any time at one of the Cameron's gatherings and decided not to tell him.
Everything had gone smoothly until you went to use the restroom. Sitting in your stall you could hear two of his cousins talking bad about you. You tried holding back your tears but the second you heard the door shut again your feelings poured over.
You didn't know how long you had been sitting there sobbing, that fuzzy feeling you get when you're at the verge of slipping having you shake your head.
"No, no, no...not now- be big. Imma big girl-" You mumbled to yourself, getting up and checking if anyone is there before you went to look at yourself in the mirror, scolding yourself. "Stop being a baby."
If Rafe could hear you right now. Lord have mercy. He would scold you even more for disrespecting your little self.
When you were sure your crying stopped you wiped away the remaining tears and took a deep breath. Leaving the restroom you suddenly bumped into someones chest, looking up you sighed when it was da- Rafe.
"You were gone for a while, you okay?" He asked and even though you nod he knew you were lying, your puffy and red eyes giving you away. He just let it go for now as the evening is almost over and you both just wanted to get over with it.
Later in the car you were silent, just looking out the window and playing with the end of your soft pink dress. Rafe glanced your way and sighed.
"Look, I- I know something happened earlier and don't say 'it's nothing' because when you cried about it's- it's not nothing, a'ight? So, tell me."
You just shook your head, not in the mood to talk anymore today. The only thing you wanted now was to wrap yourself in a blanket and sleep.
He wanted to press the subject further, placing his hand on your thigh to give you some assurance but you only shrugged his hand off and Rafe then slowly figured that you may have slipped the second you got in the car and that you're probably just tired and overstimulated from everything.
"Okay, I understand. Let's- we'll talk about it later." He said and you didn't give him any sign of acknowledgement, looking out the window again.
Back at home you completely shut down, quickly making your way to the bedroom, grabbing your lamb stuffie and curled up under the covers. All the big emotions you felt having frustrated tears flowing down your cheeks again.
Rafe came in a few minutes later and smirked, not obvious to the situation and sat down by your side, pulling the bedsheets off your head and is instantly worried by your tears, his eyes widen.
"Hey, Hey, hey. C'mere." He pulled you into his arms, ignoring your fussing and weak attempts at trying to push him away. "No- none of that. Shh, you're okay."
You only whined, giving up and slumping against him, gripping onto his shirt and letting the tears flow. Rafe started rocking you while whispering affirmations, practically suffocating you in his hold but that's exactly what you needed right now.
After your little meltdown you pulled your face from his neck, looking up at him with big eyes, just blinking at him slowly. He was a bit irritated because he didn't know that look at all.
You only mumbled a small 'daddy' before placing your head back on his shoulder and slipping your thumb between your lips.
It then clicked in Rafe's head.
"Someone's feeling really small, hm?" He rubbed your arm, feeling you nod against him. "That's okay. That's why daddy's here, to take care of you."
He just kept holding and rocking you. When you were sound asleep he reached over to grab your paci from your nightstand and took your thumb out of your mouth, quickly replacing it with the paci when you started to stir.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ ♡ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Taglist
For everything:
@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @aagn360 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @fluffyblanketgecko @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse @kissforvoid
For Rafe:
@chiaraanatra
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gaelic-symphony · 2 days
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re: your recent addition to that post about the columbia university protests.
YES. i am a jewish student there who went home for the holiday earlier than i’d planned because the protests made living on campus unbearable and i am DREADING going back.
i can’t say for certain that there are ZERO right wing neo nazis there, but that’s really not what it looks like to me. it seems to me to be all antisemitic leftists and quite a lot of antizionist jews. a disturbing number of them.
there have been a few incidents that have gone viral, such as the masked protestor holding up a sign that says “al qassam’s [the military wing of hamas] next target” pointing to jewish counter protestors with israeli and american flags, and a clip where protestors outside the gates harass two jewish female students by saying “the seventh of october will be every day for you” and then the crowd chanted “nazi bitches” at them. these were LEFTISTS. not neo nazis. columbia university apartheid divest, the group organizing these protests, have barely acknowledged these incidents, and i’m certain that the only reason they haven’t completely ignored them is because of their virality. they called the incidents “in associated events”, claimed that these protestors don’t represent their movement, and encouraged everyone to read their community guidelines if they want to know what the movement is REALLY about. as a jewish columbia student, it’s patently obvious to me that this is all a deflection and the only thing the moment is “really about” is making jewish students feel so unsafe that they go home and plan not to return.
Thank you for sharing your experience, and I am so, so sorry you are having to go through this. I can't imagine the pain you're feeling at watching your classmates partake in such awful behavior. Jewish students deserve a safe space to learn. I hope and pray that at the very least, more goyim will see what is happening at these protests and take antisemitism more seriously. And no matter what, we Jews will always protect each other. Am Yisrael Chai.
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loganlermanstanaccount · 11 months
Note
Can you write a college roommate head cannon for miguel O’Hara ( 18+ f!reader)
ik you asked for HCs but I have no self control... my bad, anon!
College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons
(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist
pairing: College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader
summary: Miguel is your roommate. And he’s hot. That’s it, that’s the tweet.
warnings: 18+ as fuuuck. F-receiving oral, using toys, masturbation, voyeurism (-ish), grinding, praise, service dom (idk?) Miguel, recreational drug use (reader and Miggy smoke a blunt). Minors DNI
a/n: I am a firm believer that modern day Miguel listens to 90s rnb, back when men were men: unabashedly, unashamedly down so fucking bad for their partners. he just gives me those vibes!!
edit: I'm writing a full fic for this! Rigor Mortis, college au fic, read here.
wc: 6k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm thinking you become roommates but he's your last choice. 
Very last minute: you have a big falling out with your now ex-boyfriend, and the plans for flatsharing next semester goes right out the window. 
So all the good places are taken, and you're going apartment-hunting, but everywhere's either too expensive, too dirty, or there's a predatory clause hidden in the lease: shitty landlords and blaring red flags in 9pt Times New Roman. 
When you stumble upon Miguel O'Hara; a student in private accomodation who, lucky you, is in need of a roommate; it feels like a godsend.
Rent is affordable and he's nice enough; refusing to grunt more than a few words to you, but is clean, organised, and from what you can tell, is barely in the apartment. 
You sign onto the lease, desperately, hoping you've just been lucky and trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth. 
You give a thousand mile stare at the blank document in front of you. A bullshit paper due in exactly 12 hours. Yes, you left it until the final stretch, and yes, it's 10k words. Very doable. You're not fucked. Nope.
You blame it on the banging from next door. Paper thin walls; obscene noises. Cries of Yes Miguel and Just like that, daddy have been plaguing you for almost an hour. His stamina must be superhuman, the way the woman in his bed has been howling. Howling may seem extreme, but she sounds like a dying cat: cock drunk and babbling over Miguel O'Hara? 
Your new roommate had been nice enough. Quiet, unassuming, and seemed more than absorbed in his schoolwork. So you didn't expect him to unashamedly fuck the girl he's been tutoring for the past week. It all clicks. The "perfect roommate" turned out to have one teeny tiny little flaw: loud, obnoxious sex, well into the early hours of the morning. 
On autopilot, you're clicking through tabs on your bed. Perhaps you're a prude, but the sex noises are abrasive, excessive, to the point of parody. Persistent, Miguel's low voice reverberates in the walls of your bedroom; making heat pool at the base of your stomach. 
"You want it, hermosa? Tell me…. such a pretty girl… like that?" It's muffled, but his voice is unmistakable. Low, greedy, heavy with want. God, the last time someone's spoken to you like that was… 
You shake your head free of cobwebs. No. You're not rewarding him. You can't . Your roommate is shameless, and inconsiderate, and really fucking annoying . 
The smacking noises increase, coupled with banging on his side of the wall. Resolute, your face hardens. From where you perch on your bed, you slam the wall with the side of your fist. 
"O'Hara! Keep it the fuck down!" 
~~~
He's a biochem major, up to his ass in assignments and he still has time for societies, internships and tutoring. 
The only times he'd be in the apartment really was an impromptu session, and you didn't notice at first, but it became more obvious as the semester went on.
As a so-called tutor, he only seemed to pick the prettiest girls - they would twirl their hair on your kitchen counter and bat their pretty lashes at him when they didn't understand. Favours for a couple of friends, is his only response when you ask. 
It felt like you'd open the door to a new girl every week and you are baffled. Donned in makeup and short skirts, they'd waddle in asking for Miggy, or drop off half-finished assignments whilst craning their head through, trying to catch a glimpse of him. 
The absurdity would make you laugh if it wasn't affecting your sleep. 
Not that he's not absolutely gorgeous, but he's so quiet you would never have thought he had it in him: to have a revolving door of women lining up to lay underneath him. 
This time, her name is Sarah: pretty little thing in Miguel's Advanced Math class.  She perches on a stool, wearing a tight dress that is wholly not appropriate for a tutoring session. She's one of his regulars, if you can call it that, and has been failing for at least 2 semesters. You flash her a smile as you pad through the kitchen, searching the cupboards for a snack. God, she is gorgeous; dolled up for another long session with Miguel, no doubt.
"Where's he gone?" She asks politely. 
You shrug. "I couldn't tell you, sorry."
"It's okay… I'm just a bit stuck." You almost snort and catch yourself. For some reason, you didn't think they actually did any work, merely a pretense for the… cardio later on in the day. 
You glance at her sheet of paper, scribbles in purple pen with large swathes crossed out. Leaning over, you scan the page.
"Right here." You point and she follows with a manicured finger. "You fucked up with this integral and I think… yeah, I think that messes with the whole thing."
Her eyes light up as she follows you, explaining with a piece of cookie hanging out of your mouth. She's definitely smart, just a few little mistakes here and there that you're happy to point out. Thanking you fervently, she rushes to correct it. 
"Ah, it's no problem. I get mixed up with it too." You smile and notice Miguel by the doorway, watching with a strange look in his face. You roll your eyes as you walk past. What a fucking weirdo. 
"Thought I was the tutor?" He croons.
You raise an eyebrow, voice low as Sarah is engrossed in her work. "...I don't want to fuck her, Miggy , if that's what you're worried about."
A little cruelly you push past him, shoulders clashing against one another. Is he smiling ? For now, you blame your perpetual tiredness when you think you catch the hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. 
~~~
You're a light sleeper, and it all makes for a tired, delirious combo. You sleepwalk through the day, scramble to finish assignments and whilst it's not all O'Hara's fault, you can't help but blame him for a lot of it. 
After you successfully get through one long week, you decide to celebrate. That means a couple hours of mindless hedonism: your favourite movie, greasy food…. and your trusty dildo. Not at the same time, of course. 
Miguel's not home, and he's not tearing down the walls with some other girl, for once, so you decide to treat yourself. 
You've been going through a dry patch, and you'd hate to admit it, but he does sound good through the thin drywall. 
It was a joke gift; given to you by a friend for your birthday. An obnoxiously purple dildo with a suction cup at its base. Aptly named Hugh, due to its - ahem - large stature. Standing tall at 7 or 8 inches, far bigger or thicker than any partner you've taken in the past. Sitting around a small diner booth with your friends and opening the bag to reveal him, had been quite the experience, for sure. 
It wasn't your fault you had gone through a dry spell in the past few months. With work, with school, with relationship issues, you hadn't had the time or energy to sleep around. Not that you were desperate for drunk, lackluster sex, followed by an awkward dance of ubers and shitty coffee in the morning. Like many, you preferred to do it yourself. 
Laptop open, you ease yourself onto the toy, already slick with lube. Prepping yourself with your fingers had been quite the task, tabs open to something on a lewd website. It's cheesy, but you didn't really like the bright lights and plastic of usual porn. The moans felt too fake, the sex devoid of any real passion. So you found a couple of independent creators; couples, mostly; carnal fucking with fervour only borne from real love . It's embarrassing to admit it, but your favourite parts are the little kisses and touches in between, or light laughter after a rough session. As if to say: it's okay and I'm still here. 
On your screen now is a longtime favourite video, a broad man bullying his fat cock into his partner. You can't help but think he looks like Miguel, not as pretty but tan with strapping shoulders, and large hands that wrap around the neck of the girl in the video. 
" F-Fuck," You breathe, sinking down onto your toy. You bet Miguel's palm on your throat would be deliciously rough, and you imagine how he'd fuck the brat out of you like the man on your screen. 
What hadn't occurred to you, however, was that the thin walls went both ways. Whilst you were quieter than many of the girls Miguel brought home, you were fairly shameless with the moans and curses that fell from your lips. Headphones on, you were blissfully unaware that Miguel had slipped into the apartment some time ago. The slap of your thighs to the floor, the desperate whine as you roll your hips over the toy - he can hear it all. 
Miguel has a conscience, so he does feel some amount of shame when he slips a hand down his trousers and presses an ear to your shared wall. He closes his eyes and bites down lusty groans, fisting his cock to your pretty noises. Noises he's been wanting to hear from you for months, now, imagining it was you underneath him instead of his usual partners. 
He times it just right, squeezing around his tip in time with the steady slap just beyond the wall. Are you fucking yourself? On your knees, hands flat on the floor, churning up your insides with a toy… or maybe ass up, dildo attached to something…? He almost cums with that mental image, wondering what you'd look like on your knees for him. Is the dildo as big as him? He knows you, knows you'd want it to hurt - for his cock to stretch out your pretty pussy when he cums deep inside you. 
All things he thinks about with a hand around his cock, and he's already close. But he wants to cum with you, listening intently for the signs. 
" Fuck," Your voice comes out muffled, but it makes him buck up into his fist all the same. " Need it… oh God, I-" 
He speeds up, wondering what it would be like to have your thighs shake underneath him, what it would take to have you babbling and begging for more. How would he break you? Maybe on his cock, where he'd watch you squirm as you take his length. Or on your knees, choking around him and licking up his cum. Or, God, thighs wrapped around his head, riding out your high with his mouth sealed on your clit, crying for him slow down, for him to-
" H-Harder, Miguel, please." 
He releases, sudden and intense, spilling white ropes into his boxers. 
" Fuck, Miguel…"
He fucks his fist through it, overstimulated from the way you say his name. It feels like the only way it should be said; spilling from your mouth, haphazard and desperate. Like honey, like treacle; sweet things he didn't know he had the capacity for. He lets that feeling wash over him, panting, bringing his forehead to rest on cool wall. 
~~~
He's hot. He's smart. He's a whore.
A total blindspot for you, and no matter how much you can't stand him; you still find yourself stealing glances whenever he's home. 
And he does seem to be home a lot more, often choosing to study on the dining table rather than his room. It's like he does it on purpose, using the warmer weather as an excuse to wear tiny tank tops and loose gray sweats - showing off the muscles of his broad back and arms perfectly.
Funnily enough, when he's not around those girls, he's bearable - seems to have grown a couple of brain cells in those short few days between sessions. 
You laugh and joke, sometimes, and he surprises you by suggesting a movie one quiet night. 
He offers you his sweater to snuggle into, you eat your weight in greasy takeout, and your roommate seems like an actually decent guy?? 
You had fallen into an easy routine: O'Hara leaves a flask of coffee for you to snatch up in the morning, hair damp from the shower and all, and you meet him with netflix and instant noodles in the evening. A push and pull that works in the little space - much smoother than your rocky beginnings.
After a truly shitty day, you come home to a quiet apartment. Almost sleeping through an exam, forgetting lunch, missing the bus home, and having to trek back through pouring rain in a thin coat. Everything that could go wrong, did, and you are left with the pieces. You trudge through the living room into the kitchen, the wet squelch of socks on laminate floor haunting every step. Shedding your limp outerwear, you lay the contents of your backpack onto the kitchen counter: clumps of loose paper, the damp leftovers of a textbook, bleeding ink. Your main concern, however, is your laptop slick with rain water. 
With baited breath, you put it on the slab, and press the power button. A click, a stuttering whir, and the screen flickers on. Then, just as strained, it putters off. Dead. Completely dead. Your legs almost give out, and you lean on the counter to steady yourself. Half of your life was there; including the final project that would make up a good chunk of your grade. It takes you everything not to collapse onto the floor right then and there. 
"How was it?" You hear the click of a door and Miguel calls out from the hallway. 
You wince."...F-Fine?" 
You hear footsteps, as he gets closer. "Are you asking or telling me?" 
You clear your throat, desperately trying to keep your voice steady. "Fine. It was fine. I'm just… it was fine."
Back still turned, you fumble around with the wet contents of your bag, hoping he doesn't notice. 
"Long day?" He says warmly, head poking into the kitchen. Haphazardly, you spare him a glance from behind your shoulder. He's dressed in a sweater that fits snug around his chest, rolled up to expose his forearms, and loose sweats. In his hands, he drinks from a cheesy mug - your mug, donning a stupid pun. He looks warm. Cosy. Domestic. For some, reason it makes your heart sink even further. 
Long day? "Something like that." You manage to squeeze out. There's a pregnant pause as he comes closer. Rummaging blindly through a cupboard, you try to hide behind its door. If he sees you like this, now, you don't know if you'll be able to hold it together. 
You close the door, and all of a sudden he's there, mug in hand. 
" Fuck, man- " It makes you jump, as he squints and takes a sip of his coffee. 
"You look… wet." 
"That's because it rained, Miguel." Snapping at him, your tone is biting. You're tired, stressed and in desperate need of a cry, but he is unrelenting in his gaze. 
"Are you ok?" He asks, unfazed. 
There's a lump in your throat and all you can do is nod with a tight expression.  His eyes flicker towards the counter and you shuffle, trying to cover up the mess. And then you watch it happen; initial confusion, a flash of realisation, and then worry; all in the space of a couple seconds. 
Gently, he pulls you aside to inspect the damage. "Mierda. This is pretty bad. You sure you're ok?" 
He's got a hand on your arm now,  The dam breaks and you crumple into tears in the kitchen floor. Of course, he comes with you, rubbing your back as you blubber through the details. 
" Nothing's going right for me… and I've got my final project on there… I'm barely keeping up as it is…" All he does is nod, face tight with something you can't quite name. It must seem pathetic to him, you think, shamelessly crying on the kitchen floor, complaining to your poor roommate. He can't leave you like this, because he's a decent person - but internally, he must think you're going crazy. 
It helps, having him there: a steady presence by your side. Slowly but surely, your tears subside. 
"You could've asked me to pick you up." He hands you some tissues off the counter, and watches as you mop up the tears. "I would've come, if you called."
"I didn't… I didn't think we were…" You search for the right word. 
"...friends?" He offers, with a small smile. "You think I let just anyone steal my sweaters?" 
"First of all," It makes you laugh, despite yourself. "You offered. And second, I've seen what you do with your friends, and I don't know if I have the energy for it."
"Ouch." Bashful, he rubs his chest like it aches. He sits a little close to you, knocking your shoulders with his own. "I know this girl who's crazy good with computers. I could ask her to take a look, if you'd like? Might not be able to save it but maybe we could recover the files?"
"...I'd like that, to be honest."
"Muy bien ." He leaps to his feet, palm stretched towards you to help you up. "I'll run you a warm bath or something. You're creating a puddle and it's going to ruin my floor."
"Our floor, asshole. I pay rent here, too." 
~~~
You find that you enjoy being around him, and he feels the same. 
You can't help but compare him to your shitty ex who you were planning to move in with: and even with his quirks, Miguel is better in every way. 
There is harmony in your household, for a while, and you almost look forward to coming home to him after class. Almost. 
It doesn't last long, because of course it doesn't. You'd thought you'd come to a tentative ceasefire, able to casually rib and joke with each other - takeout and B-roll movies aside. He leaves you leftovers from food he makes, you turn down your music when he's studying, and he even woke you up the other day when you had slept through your alarm.
Beyond the wall, his music is loud: a playlist you recognise as the one he puts on to (unsuccessfully) mask the noise of his usual late night adventures. Cheesy love ballads, heady RnB that leaks into your own room. You'd rather die than admit his taste in music isn't horrible, but it usually means a long, long night for everyone around. With finals around the corner, there's no way you can let this stand. 
What kind of person does that? Lull you into a false sense of security with Snakes on a Plane and pepperoni pizza? 
Absorbed in your own work, you hadn't even realised he had someone over; let alone was gearing up for obnoxious sex. You'd bang on the wall, but you feel like you guys are past that: crossed a threshold of intimacy that means you can shout at him up close and personal. 
So you stomp over to the hallway, banging at the door to his room. In the short trip there, you've worked yourself into a frenzy. How many times have you told him to keep it down? That it was rude and inconsiderate to flaunt his sex life in your face; to fuck other women so loud you were practically involved? There was something about the little smile he would give you afterwards, when you catch him shepherding his latest out the door in the morning - like he gets off on it, enjoys it, when you react. Even when you think you're over it, he still manages to drive you absolutely crazy. 
“Miguel? Open the fuck up!"
You're still fuming when the door opens with a click, and Miguel appears in the sliver of the doorway. He opens it so that his frame is half swallowed by the door, top half peeking through with a lazy hand in his hair. And of his top half, he's bare from the waist up, black band of his boxers sitting low on his v-line and loose sweats. 
All the wind is knocked from your sails, and you lose your train of thought. 
"Yeah?" 
"I…" You clear your throat. "I don't care who you fuck, but when I'm doing work-" 
"-I'm not." He chuckles. "There's no one here, hermosa. Just me. And you, I guess…"
There's something about the way he says it, lazily, as if it's his first time saying those words - wrapping his tongue around your name to see how it fits. If it fits, how it tastes. His relaxed posture, the way his hair falls…
"You're high." Your brow shoots up. "... you're high!" 
With a finger pressed to his lips, he grabs your hand and pulls you into his room, eyes darting around the hallway. 
"Shhh! You can't-" Now, he gets close, whispering like he's saying something he shouldn't. "You can't tell anyone. "
"I won't." You breathe. His face is serious at first, and then you're both giggling. You've never seen him so carefree, and it's nice to see Miguel walking around without the weight of the world on his shoulders.
He's still holding your hand, pressed close, and you see him drag his eyes up and down your figure. "You want do something you'll regret…?"
"...I've got a 9am, tomorrow, I really-" 
"-shouldn't?" He finishes, dragging his hand up your bare arm, pupils blown. He gets up to your shoulders, tucking your hair behind your ear. It's sinful, the way his touch is gentle but gaze heavy - violent in the way he practically eyefucks you. You feel bare, in little sleep shorts and a t-shirt.
He steps back, lounging on his bed, and makes for a half finished blunt by the adjacent window sill. Sighing, you sit by him, sinking into the mattress. He pats you closer, dangerously close, and you comply. One arm curled by your waist, the other brings the blunt up close and you wrap your lips around it. When Miguel brings a lighter to the blunt, you lean into it, knuckles brushing your lips. 
You take a drag, long, heavy, eyes closed. And when they open, you're met with his own. Maybe it's the weed, maybe it's the heady atmosphere, but you swear his eyes are low and deep with lust.
"Good girl." He rumbles, cupping your chin and tracing a thumb to your lips. He separates, bringin the blunt to his own lips before leaning back to pass it to you. As quick as he gets close, he pulls away; leaning back into the expanse of his large bed. And he looks good, head drawn back and the curve of his tan arm drawn upwards. Tufts of hair from his chest, the trail that leads down suggestively - and without inhibition, you basically drool over him. God, there it is. You feel it kick in and let it wash over you. 
His music, long forgotten, blends into your downy haze. You want to sit in his lap, rest your head on his chest. You get it now: if this is the view all those women he tutors get to have, then you finally understand. 
"Come closer, hermosa ." You barely register the nickname, only focused on the way he says it, the delicious way it rolls off of his tongue. You nod, and shuffle closer. His siren song sounds sweeter, somehow, up close. 
You pass the blunt between you both, and watch it dwindle to the last dregs. Lying down next to him, he clutches your hand and takes the butt between his fingers, letting its flames die as you watch. You giggle and his gaze softens.
"I didn't expect this from you." You look up to see an upside-down Miguel, hiding a smile. 
"Expect what?" He drags himself downwards, to rest his head by your side. 
"All…" You gesture vaguely. "This. Don't even think I've been in your room for this long, before."
His room looks exactly how you'd expect it: tidy and modest, a row of trophies neatly lined up on a shelf, a telescope pointing out towards a window. There are posters by his bed; science related, mostly. You tilt your head in the direction of one of them.
"Is this what they see?" You mumble to no one in particular. 
He manages to catch it, sluggish in his response. "...Is this what who sees?" 
"All the girls you fuck." It tumbles your of your mouth, before you can help it. 
He tilts his head too, looking at the poster and you watch the sharp lines of his jaw besides you. Even at this angle, he's so pretty. 
"Huh. I guess they do." 
"It's not very romantic, is it?" You blink, oblivious. Your question is met with a noncommittal shrug. "What was her name last time? Cassie, Clara-something…"
"Katie." He hums. 
"Katie." Ignoring the twinge of disappointment at his quick response, you hope it's the weed and not jealousy that made you pretend to forget her name. 
You sit up on your haunches, tracing the valleys and mountains of his bare chest with a leisurely finger. You try not to notice the way he shivers at your touch. 
"I could hear everything. Every, 'Yes daddy'," You feign a moan by curling your lips into an O-shape. You bring your other hand to your hair, head tilted back with exaggerated movement. "And 'right there, Miggy, right fuckin' there' ." 
Technically, you're making fun of him and laughing, expecting him to follow. But he doesn't, head back and eyes boring into you - only bringing a hand to press yours at his chest. 
"Thin walls, Miguel." You clear your throat, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Too far, probably. "Sorry, shit. I didn't mean-" 
"I hear you too." He says softly. "I heard you, the other day."
Head filled with cotton, it takes a moment for his words to really click. So he elaborates, lacing his fingers with your own. 
"Fucking yourself, hermosa ." He says it lazily, like the vulgarity of the act doesn't register.
Your eyes widen in horror. How much exactly did he hear?
"...and I heard you say my name." 
"It was…. i-it wasn't like that-" Fuck. You can't think straight as it is: and his voice is low and silky, rubbing circles on your hand close to his chest. Even now, he oozes confidence, the steady thump-thump of his heart giving away nothing. 
"Hmmm? Then what is it like?" You blink at him, unable to answer. "You're a hypocrite. You complain about all these women I supposedly fuck, but then-" 
He pulls you closer, so that your lips almost touch his. "-you lock yourself in your room, touching yourself and thinking about your poor roommate. What am I meant to do with you?"
A pause, and in your daze, you can't breathe. For all your theatrics, it's too easy for him - to prod and tease, and for you to chase after him. You move to kiss him, but he grabs your chin at the last second. "Not quite. I want to hear you say it."
"Fuck- " You crumple, hiding your head in the crook of his shoulder. Even in your haze, the nerves bubble up from the base of your stomach. "Fuck me, please , Miguel."
He places a hand on your thigh, leading you to straddle his middle, other hand wrapped around your waist. He grinds your lower half into his, leaning up to bring your lips together. 
He tastes sweet, greedily lapping up your moans in the clash. You're not thinking, not really, lost in the heat of his body, desperate and eager when you kiss. To contrast, Miguel cups your chin, pulling you away for air whenever you sink too deep. Somehow, he still manages to look smug, taunting you with a flash of his little fangs whenever you separate. If you weren't feeling the effects of that blunt, you may have had the means to be embarrassed at how much you want him - needily grinding against him and pawing at his chest. 
It's too slow, too leisurely, like a punishment; and he refuses to give you what he knows you want. Your whines betray you when he finally slips a hand down your shorts. 
"¿Paciencia, hmm?" He grabs a handful of your ass, clothed cock catching on your clit. It rips another moan from you, which he happily swallows with another kiss. "Patience, princesa."
You hump against one another like teenagers, your hands planted by his head for purchase. Hips moving of their own accord, you chase the relief Miguel provides: with his hands kneading your ass, length catching at your clit, and teeth nipping at your bare neck. 
He licks a stripe up your collarbone, soothing the blossoming hickeys with a hum. 
Fuck, how can he be so casual ? You don't know if it's the weed or something else, but he is in his element, hand dipping down your back to graze at your pussy from behind. He hisses when he realises how wet you are, swiping his fingers down your slit and taking them out to pop them in his mouth. 
Now, flushed and face hot with embarrassment, you look up at him with big doe eyes. It makes Miguel feel guilty for stopping you so close to your climax. Beautiful : lower lip hooked under your teeth, plump and swollen and kissable. He'll make up for it later: a promise he whispers into skin. 
"You're soaked." He cups your cheek to press a kiss to your forehead, and all you can do is whine. His gaze dips down, to the swell of your tits in that thin shirt.. 
"What did you think about when you touched yourself?" It's soft, said in the warm press of your bodies; hook-shaped and hazy and you fit like you were made for one another. The thought lingers, plants a dangerous seed that makes you forget that the man underneath you is your roommate : unrepentant whore, Miguel O'Hara. 
"You." You've seen it first hand, he eats hearts for breakfast; and yours is on a platter for him to devour.
He laughs, deep and rumbling, hands resting on your waist. "I know that, baby. You don't have fantasies? Fuck yourself to the thought of someone touchin' you just right?"
Not just someone, him, you think. Your voice dies in your throat at the way he looks at you. "Just… n-nothing really-"
He hums, grinding your hips onto his. "Speechless, I can't believe it. Is this what I need to do to get some fucking peace around here?" 
You roll your eyes, "Don't be a dick, Miguel. When I shout, it's because you deserve it."
"...there it is." Eyes shining, his face stretches into a shit-eating grin. Wide, unabashed, unambiguous. "You back with the living, sweetheart?" 
It makes you laugh, even though you hate to give him the satisfaction. 
"What do you want?" He kneads your thigh and pleasure pools at the base of your stomach. 
You mumble something begrudgingly.
"Hmm? Can't hear you, baby."
Louder, now. "...want to sit on your face, Miguel." 
Lowly, he groans, shaking his head. "Mierda… of course you do."
Expertly, he helps you take your shorts off, dragging the thin material down your thighs. You clambers upwards, wrapping them around his shoulders, watching intently as he kneads the soft skin. It's tentative, at first, and you place your hands on the headboard to perch just above his mouth. 
He licks, diving in with the flat of his tongue: a long upwards stroke that ends with him sucking your clit. Moaning, your hips jump and he chases your pretty pussy up, large palms pushing you back down. He concentrates on your bundle of nerves, lips around your clit like a man on a mission.
And, God, does it feel good; he watches and learns from your every movement, committing your body to memory. His moans vibrate deliciously, tension building at that spot faster than your mind can register it. Then, you clench around nothing, gushing into his mouth whilst he eases you through it. The noises he makes are obscene; one leg off the bed and a hand snaked under his boxers. He's getting off on it; watching you crumple and sob around his tongue. 
And when you begin to move off, thighs sore, he doesn't relent, sealing his mouth on your pretty little hole. 
"Miguel.. fuck-" After your first orgasm, it surprises you when he continues, tongue fucking you with fervour. He presses you close, impossibly close, and your body fights against his ministrations. Heat, everywhere, and it's too much. The haze of the blunt begins to wear off and you are left with biting clarity. You want more of him, deeper; drunk off of just his tongue. 
You card your hands in his hair, and he moans: deep and wanton, with his eyes fluttering shut. He wants to look, to watch you when you cum on his tongue for a second time. Back arched, the curve of your tits peeking through a tiny top, fucking yourself on his face. He wants it hard , wants you to take control and use him to get off. 
"Right there, fuck… "
Like you can hear his thoughts, you press yourself down harder, riding the deep ridge of his nose for relief. Miguel complies and leans into it. He eats you out like a man starved and the carnality of it all brings you to a second peak. You cum once again, legs wrapped tight around his face. Head back, he laps it up readily. 
You separate with a wet pop, and Miguel looks blissful : fucked out and panting, wiping the slick off of his face with a forearm. Exhausted, you lean back onto the mattress beside him. 
"That was…" He searches for the right word, and it's your turn to finish for him. 
"... good. " Scarily good. So good you won't be able to see him around the apartment without remembering what he looks like trapped between your thighs. 
Gently, he turns to cup your cheek and bring your lips to his. It starts off sweet and deepens rapidly, making that thread at the pit of your stomach tighten, again. He grabs your thigh, bringing it closer, and you feel his length poking your stomach. Fuck. 
"You haven't…?" Your hand makes for his trousers, and he stops you. "I want to, Miguel. Want you to feel good too."
His head sinks into your shoulder. "I know, baby, I know. Not like this. Not yet."
You nod, still wrapped up in his arms. You haven't even fucked, and it feels more intimate than it should. 
"You've got a 9am tomorrow." He smiles with a hand underneath his head. 
"I've got a 9am tomorrow," You repeat, sighing. "...and my life is falling apart. I'm failing half of my classes as it is."
He turns to you, lazily. 
"I could tutor you, if you'd like."
"That's not fucking funny, Miguel."
_
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Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns @ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings
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edit: the full fic xx
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getodrools · 23 days
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jjk men having wet dreams about you and waking up needy and pants soaked…….. thank you for listening to my ted talk 🌚🌚
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໒꒰ྀ ྀིᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.゚ yes and yes. omfggg the big men of jjk being so whiney and needy >> such a good combooo
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★ ┆ NOCTURNAL EMISSIONS .ᐟ ── JJK VARIOUS ‧
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FT ‧ gojo, getō, nanami, toji, sukuna, choso
⟣ WARNINGS ‧ MDNI | f! reader | pwp, dub con, somnophilia, dry humping, lots of messes ( winkwonk ) from vv needy men, dirty taaalk, warnings will be noted and will vary on each character. ᡣ 𐭩 | WC ‧ 1.4k + |
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͙͘͡★ SATORU GOJO!
somno, dry humping, fingering, mind fuck ( ?? ) !
Gojo’s eyes are snapped wide. Simply, laying silent and annoyed – tight-lipped and motionless, yet his wet cock is the only thing moving… agonizingly too… Feeling himself twinge between stiff legs ‘till it itched; each panging throb forced his meaty log to rub right up against the mess oozing through thin fabric.
“Fuck…” Gojo was more than annoyed watching how you peacefully drift off beside him, unbothered and probably coveting in the sweetest of dreams… A silent ponder hoping some were of him, just how his every thought was of you. Well, Clearly. The sappy mess globbed up in his pants was an apparent sign even his dreams clutter of just you, to which, Gojo could no longer stay silent about…
“Dreamin' baby?… Bet you are…” Shimmying himself close, the gentle press he rolls with smeared the gluey muck across your bare skin, “Any about me?… I’d hope,” Voice so smooth you swear you could hear your boyfriend echoing in your cute little head, “Just had one of you… i was fucking that pretty pussy…” Like sand falling, he whispers gently at the shell of your ear, taking a nip before, “Mmh… just like this…” Gojo’s hand slips right between the sweet heat of your legs.
“Ah… mmpf–” You twitch. Your brows too, knitting together into a deep parabola. Was this a dream still? A sudden naughty turn from baking with friends sure was a jump! — Ah! But that pinch twisting at your pearled hood felt all too real…
Gojo worked quick. Cooing across naked flesh soothed you back – even soothing the tight bundle of nerves throbbing at his persistence worked well too, “You were wet just like this baby…” The pads of his fingers mush between your slit, gently scrissoring folds open to catch at those lewd webs, “Better be dreaming of me fucking you… so fuckin’ wet…” Gojo hooks a digit in.
“… To… Toru…?” Bedhead sluggish with sleepy eyes drooped, all you could feel was Gojo pressing flush against your ass harder than usual — was there a wet spot too? Each roll he shoved against you worsened the damp spot; all seeping with warm cum and more pre to bleed through your clothes… And was there a damn finger popped in your pussy?!
“Hehe…” That mischievous and annoying giggle hucked right into your neck, “Look who's having a wet dream now, naughty girl…” Needy bastard.
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͙͘͡★ SUGURU GETŌ!
somno, oral sex ( f –> m ), cum shot !
The rather poignant moans slipping out from between Getō's lips woke you up. And the obvious tent building in your boyfriend's briefs was standing proudly from strong hips; an obelisk of flesh that jutted out as far as a forearm was a clear indication he was hungry even in deep thoughts...
Bored and damper with a small smile, you listen to how this eruption was caused by you, "Y/n... baby... More..." Tenderly cuddling up to his side to watch his ache – to watch the little twinges in his features spark... Suguru was so cute when he'd have naughty fantasies... Watching how his length jerked around in confines; forcing tight cloth wrapping his capped tip to suffocate. To further damp in wet seed, 'till the dark spot bubbled out with more ropes of cum.
"Fuck–mmh–Please... Need you... fuck..."
Your measly hand dipping between bodies seemed to have drawn out those very feeble dreams he was crying out for to beyond... Especially the second you popped his cock out; he was drenched – sweat and cum were glistening along his length.
Suguru twisted around, unconsciously sucking in his lower lip at the tease, "Yes... mmh..." Clammy skin throbbed under your touch... The wrist-thick girth you twist at oozed, just begging for attention.
Heeding to his needs, you squeeze yourself between his splayed legs; settling to wrap pretty lips around Suguru's crown. And like a suction, you swallow him up; impaling yourself with his slab of cock meat 'till it punched at the fluttering length of your barriers. Blocking the entirety of your windpipe with ease, but too determined to fill his dreams with more fantasies, you gurgle him whole…
Perhaps the sloppy sounds coming from your mouth did little to dissuade him awake, but the tight lip you ring around his midsection forced his face to scrunch in, "Ohmyfuck... baby, yes..." He was close — again!
Salty in white thickness, the slobber you bubble out forced another geyser of hot cum to shoot.
Balls tightening and clenching up to empty across your tongue, Getō gasps, "Baby?! Fuck!" Hips jerking upwards, either surprised to see his pretty girl working his hard cock, or the overstimulation catching him by his throat.
Either or, he was damn grateful to have such an attentive girlfriend, "Holy shit... Babe--" Getō stutters, but the faint smile hanging by a thread was all he could muster up peering down at your muck-covered, pretty face...
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͙͘͡★ KENTO NANAMI!
marriage, mentions of pregnancy, cock warming !
Sensitive skin chafing along his briefs, the sap pearling out was sticky. Damnnit. Again?
It's happened three times this week on your honeymoon already, and it's becoming agonizing… He always tried to ignore the way he'd moan and twist himself awake, but it was extra hard dismissing the wet patch soiling his third pair of briefs… It made him feel like a hormonal teen – embarrassing for a grown, now wedded man, but he couldn't help it! You're so beautiful and everything he yearns for – you're just cooped up in his every damn thought!
“Honey…” Nanami sighs.
The soft pads gliding across the curvature of your back form a parabola to arch in chills. You wind your hips, “Mhm?… Oh…” You recognize that sticky patch soiled low in his pants. Memorizing the way how he'd shimmy so close ‘till he could stuff his face into the nook of your neck before humming.
“Mrs. Nanami… My lovely wife…” Gentle voice feathering across the shell of your ear, Kento was gentle, besides the small pinch at your side to make you giggle, “Want to have a lazy morning?”
⊹ ࣪ ˖
“Then you found out you were pregnant.” As those words cooed out, his cock throbs deep inside gummy walls, and your heart does too, “Those are your wet dreams?” You giggle into the pillow, but the soft hump rolling against doughy globes robs that very breath.
“Mhm… Well, I think so? I fucked you full, so I assumed you'd be round and full with my kids…” The tender thrust bucking up into you signifies what he's been craving these past few nights – inner thoughts swirling with the idea of you being packed like a snow cone!
“Oh…” You gulp as Nanami pulls you closer by the hips, nudging in ‘till he was balls deep. It was like putting his dick to sleep in a pillow.
Sinking in every thick, turgid inch of cock meat into spongy walls that snap and suck him in, you could feel your husband worm right up to your womb. Thumping to invade soft barriers – he was stuffing you to the hilt purposely, as if he was trying to fuck the same thought into you…
Nanami hums, “What? Don't you want some one day? Or do you just like being stuffed?” Either or…
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͙͘͡★ TOJI FUSHIGURO!
somno, cunnilingus, squirting, he's grouchy!
“Make me a mess…” Toji is irritated, this is a damn work night and he's woken up with drawls sticking to the fat of his thighs, again. Breaking those sweet sweet eight hours of sleep – if any, all of it was swept away with filthy thoughts of you…
Grumbling between the sweet heat of your legs, “I’ll make you a mess.” The assassin speared a wet muscle up and between your folds; flicking at your hood ‘till it puffed out… “Let’s see how you like it…” With a forceful shove, his lips mashed into those soft pillows.
Your head mashed into pillows yourself, unaware of the man feasting below your waist. Only aware— barely aware of those flitted blissful dreams…Which now, all warp into filthy scenes of sweating bodies humping and rolling together… His tongue was working as one of a spring bouncing into place; romping in and out so deep, he was fucking with your imagination...
His mouth suckled over the fine features of you lewdly, nestling the fat into the crook of his nose to ground his lips into lush flesh further. Smooshing folds down to nip at, Toji smirks, watching you swerve in sheets just how he was.
“Oh!— Fuck?!” Your eyes snap back wide, were you cumming? Peering down, “Toji?!” And gasping with wailing hands reaching for the shaggy strands sticking out beneath sheets, you were on the brink.
Still leaden, your were too late to pop off that suction forcing you to topple over... The unexpected clench twisting inside you made your eyes bug out. A sudden breathlessness rose to your throat – all the air in your body was forced out in one huge rush, just like the geyser spewing out from between your legs.
Pussy leaking, the man hiding under sheets peeked up, “Annoying huh?” Shaken and mottled with chills, no. Not… really? Though, the sheets and the entirety of his mouth were soaked, so were a couple of clothes, that was the only peeving thing about this… but it is laundry day anyway…
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͙͘͡★ RYŌMEN SUKUNA!
cum eating, blow job-ish, he's also vv grouchy !
"Wake up." One of his strong arms sling over your shoulder, "Brat. Wake up." And it twists at the skin trying to nuzzle under the blankets.. Sukuna sighs, heavily, "You have a mess to clean up. Wake up right now." The rough nudge at your body was more than enough to wake you...
Humming, you whirl around only to get a crotch-level shot of your husband! Blinking, he clearly scooted his damn butt all the way up to the headboard, making sure you'd see the very mess he was complaining about soon as you roused. —And the still pounding cock that jutted in embarrassing need. That thick, meaty pole standing rock hard shaded into a deep red, the cum-soaked skin so flushed, he couldn't stop twitching... oh he was aching...
"Clean me." Sukuna waves a hand around. Subtly pointing at the gooey puddle pooling at his tummy, and it was a lot. Thick too, cooling ropes of midst cum stuck to his barred skin like a busted open bottle of glue.
"Sukuna... It looks like you made this mess—”
"No. You did. You keep sticking yourself in my head. It's annoying waking up like this." . . .
Sighing, "It's O.K to say you were dreamin' of me, again..." He hisses at that remark, but your cooling tongue flicking out simmered his temper...
Nectarous lotion and salt lathered over your lips as your hand dragged a long, languid tease across his shaft, "You're so moody when you're needy." Sukuna went to bite at those words, but feeling you vacuum up the globs of cum forced him to gnaw at his lip instead.
Sukuna's cum strung in your mouth as if you were flossing with it; running thickly down your throat, you slurp his tatted tummy clean. The thick blobs felt like gum rolling around in your mouth, trying to drink him up 'till the only slime trailing and glistening across skin was your messy spit.
"Good girl... Don't forget my cock now.." Milking the rest of his hot load with tight lips, you gurgle down his seed like a smoothie.
Suckling at the King's crown, Sukuna eventually deemed himself clean once you finally kitten-licked all the way down to his fist-sized baby makers... Sparkling new!
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͙͘͡★ CHOSO KAMO!
he's a mess, dry humping, he whimpers ofc !
Twisting and turning, Choso was shamelessly humping at the sheets, again. It was almost the AM, but those sweaty limbs linking with yours kept forcing you awake...
"Choso..." You whine, but no louder than the one wafting straight into your back. Choso nestled beneath the covers and sunk himself further down the bed than usual; cramming himself against your spine to hump at the plush of your thighs 'till another bubble of cum oozed out his rubbery tip.
This was the third load he's cried out, so far! It's like a never-ending dream of fucking you raw when your around... He just couldn't stop thinking of you no matter how hard he tried! Even the agonizing nights when he slept on the couch, he'd fuck himself straight into the pillows – hearing whines of your name echoing from down the hall kept you up those times!
Choso's hips keep rutting like a damn dogs, feet kept kicking, and cock still throbbing knowing you were around, no matter what...
The longer he rolled his hips into yours, Choso's mess went tacky. It began to string out in fine lines through the sheer gaps in his confines; almost frothing like icing the longer he kept at it, unknowingly soaking your lower half too.
You couldn't stay sore with him, especially when his droopy eyes fluttered open. He looks so embarrassed out of his mind as he looks up at you like a bad puppy, realizing the mess he's created, he feels like an animal... Shame.
Whines turning into frantic rambles, "I'm sorry... l don't know what get a hold of me... Please..." And the soft whimpers following each syllable soften your gaze.
You peck at his swollen lips. Still too sensitive, Choso winces, and his hips jolt forward.
The wet center of his crotch nudges with yours; poking the hard blanketed tip right between the sweet heat of your legs. All you could feel was runny sap dampening your shorts, almost cooling as it soaked through to your panties, even feeling the moisture cling against your bundle of nerves.
"It's ok baby... I love you too." Nuzzling your nose into his, Choso was on the brink of groping cloud nine, again...
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wrioluvr · 5 months
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sub yandere inmate x gn! prison warden reader
thank u all for 1000+ notes on my last post omg....<3 short fic about an idea i had as i work on part 2 of the sub yandere x himbo reader ♡♡♡ kinda wriothesley inspired coz thats bae...
cw: mentions of nsfw
"so let me get this straight." you sighed, looking at the man who was currently on the other side of the bars in disappointment. "you beat up some of the other inmates and got into a fight because.... they were talking shit about me?"
"exactly..... they were saying you were too strict! but they don't know how much you care for us.... such ungrateful bastards." his last words came out with an obvious distaste. he held the bars of his cell tightly, looking into your eyes imploringly for any sign of validation. "aren't... aren't you proud of me?"
you pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. "no. you can't just hurt other people for my sake. i'm your warden. i can handle a few snarky comments." he had always been rather attached to you, but he had been acting overly clingy and whiny in the past few weeks. you wondered if solitary confinement was finally getting to his head.
at your words, he crumbled a little, sadness evident in the lines of his pout. your approval meant everything to him, so you being annoyed with him was the worst feeling in the world. but all of a sudden, he perked back up, seemingly coming up with a devilish idea. his voice dropped to a low whisper. "you know.... if you're that upset with me, i'm always ready for punishment." to get his point across, he pressed his ass to the bars, moaning softly as he felt the cold metal graze his hole. "a spanking would be perfect."
you immediately took a step back, glaring at him. "i don't believe in corporal punishment." you said sternly, trying to deter him from getting any more perverted ideas in his head. "you're not even really interested in getting better, are you?"
"whaaat. i am! come onnnnn. the only way you can get me to behave is if you spank me. i'll be a good boy. i promise."
"you know what would be a better punishment?"
"what?" his eyes light up at the thought of you taking the initiative to put him in his place.
"if i don't partake in your twisted scenarios and leave right now. try not to get into any more fights, okay?" you walked away, shaking your head as you wondered what on earth you would do with this pathetic man.
"seriously? no! come back...." he whined, slumping back down onto his bed, defeated. but at least he had got your attention with that stunt... you had been paying far more attention to the other inmates recently.
he giggles to himself, staring up at the ceiling of his cell. a few years meant nothing, if it meant that once he was out he could live out the rest of his days as your malewife, taking care of your every need. that was the one thing keeping him going. you wouldn't be so cruel as to deny him of his fantasy, would you?
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Of Oblivious Minds
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: Pining, yearning, idiots in love?? (an angsty moment as well)
a/n: What am I doing!! I don't know!! This is part one and there will be one or two more parts :) Thank you for reading ily ♡
Part 2
~~
You were having an epiphany—of that you were certain. 
Sitting in the main room of the townhouse, a glass of wine spinning in your hand, many things were beginning to make sense to you. It was ridiculous that you hadn’t come to this realization before. All of the hints were right in front of you. 
You leaned back in the armchair, a scrutinizing gaze pointed toward the corner of the room. You took a sip of your wine—a contemplative sip—and then ran through the facts in your head. Yes, it made perfect sense. 
You wanted to kick yourself for not noticing before. 
“Don’t hurt yourself thinking so hard.” Cassian’s voice startled you out of your thoughts. You blinked up at him as he took a seat on the arm of your chair. “Want to share why you’re staring a hole into the wall?” 
“I was just… noticing something,” you murmured over the rim of your glass, voice low. 
“And what’s that?” 
You paused, pursing your lips. It would sound silly if you were wrong. But Cassian looked at you expectantly, so you simply whispered, “I think Az is in love with Elain.” 
The sudden, rumbling laugh bouncing off the walls set your cheeks ablaze. The entire room halted their conversations to look at Cassian as he doubled over, holding his stomach with no signs of letting up. You stared up at him, mortified, and smacked his arm as his laughs lowered into senseless chuckles. 
“Cassian, quit it. It’s not that funny—stop it or I’ll hit you again.” 
“Sorry. I’m sorry,” he laughed, wiping a tear from his eye. “Sorry, that was just… that was a good one, y/n.” 
“What’d she say?” Rhys asked, perking up from the other side of the fireplace. 
“Nothing to warrant that reaction,” you grumbled, sinking lower into your seat. 
Fighting back the vibrations in his chest, Cassian took a deep breath. “Inside joke, Rhys. You wouldn’t get it.” 
Rhys huffed out an offended breath, quirking a brow at his antics. He looked to Mor and Feyre to garner some support, but they only giggled back at him. 
“Maybe we would.” 
Azriel’s gravelly tone only made you collapse further into the armchair. If you’d known there would be consequences to sharing your epiphany with Cassian, you would have kept your mouth shut. Cassian was usually wonderful at keeping secrets. 
“Oh, brother, you’d find it funny as well, surely,” Cassian shared, heaving up from the chair. “But, alas, I have to go. No inside jokes for the room.” 
“Well that’s not fair. You don’t get to cause a riot and then leave,” Mor whined, her cheeks rosy and her eyes glassy. Clearly, she had been having her own drinks throughout the night. 
“Lovely. Now you want to know? Where was that attitude while you were giggling with my mate?” Rhys accused. 
Feyre jumped in this time, pinching the high lord’s cheek and cooing, “Oh, you big Illyrian baby.” 
The focus was no longer on you and your apparently laughable realization. Cassian’s reaction did little to deter you from the thought, however, and you were still quite resolute in your observations. Looking over at the couple in question only solidified that. 
They were huddled close, Elain’s knees pressed against Azriel’s thigh as they spoke in low tones. Azriel would occasionally take a glance around the room, lingering on you as he went, but that was natural for the shadowsinger. His shadows were gone, where they went you had no idea, and his wings were held tightly behind his back. 
And he stared at her—intently—as she nodded her head and answered whatever it was he had asked. 
He had to be in love with her. 
You were usually quite good at reading these types of things. 
“I’m taking you home now,” Cassian spoke, holding out his hand. “We’ll walk.” 
“What if I don’t want to go home?” you asked, taking his hand and following him despite your words. 
“After all that nonsense, I think it’s clear you need a good night’s rest. Plus, you and I are in the ring bright and early tomorrow morning.” 
You groaned, knocking your head back at the reminder of your obligations. It always sounded like such a good idea over breakfast. Cassian had clearly learned that you would only say yes to early morning trainings when you were half-asleep. 
“Yeah, yeah, let’s go, sweetheart.” 
You let him yank you to the door, your feet dragging behind you, when a warmth encased your shoulders. You recognized the material of your coat instantly and turned to see Azriel smoothing it down over your arms. 
“For your walk,” Azriel quietly explained. “You left it on the back of my chair.” 
“Oh!” you chirped, feeling the early licks of embarrassment barrage your chest. It’s not like he heard you talking about him, right? “Thanks, Az. I almost forgot.” 
He offered you one of his soft, rare smiles. “I know. I remembered.” 
He nodded over your head to Cassian after that, and you heard Cassian’s low, I got her, Az, only because you strained your ears. 
You ended up being extremely grateful for Azriel’s forethought to grab your jacket. It was freezing outside. You could have winnowed home instead, but Cassian hadn’t really given you the option and no one ever let you winnow after you’d had something to drink. 
You landed in Summer Court one time and suddenly everyone treated you like a hazard. 
Your shoes scuffed against dark cobblestone as you walked. It was really dark, now that you looked at it. Maybe it had rained? Or a merchant had dumped their excess water? 
Or maybe it was nighttime and you were a little drunk. 
It was then that you noticed the silence. When Cassian walked you home, especially when Cassian was tipsy and he walked you home, he never shut up. So this was unusual. You squinted as you looked up at him, but he gave nothing away, keeping his gaze forward and his steps in steady pace with your own. 
“Okay, out with it,” you accused, crossing your arms over your chest. “What was so funny earlier? And why are you walking me home all stoic?” 
“I’m always stoic. Adds to my charm.” 
“Liar.” 
Cassian smirked, shaking his head, and then schooled his expression into one that was a touch more serious. “You really think Az likes Elain?” 
You watched your breath puff out white. “Don’t you?” 
“No, I don’t.” 
You shot him a skeptical glance. “Well, then you’re wrong. I’m good at picking these things out. I knew Feyre was Rhys’s made before the rest of you figured it out, didn’t I?”
“It was pretty obvious, y/n,” Cassian scoffed. He took a fleeting glance down to the ground beneath your feet. “Honestly, I’d wager that you’re actually the worst at picking these things out.”  
You gaped at him, bringing your coat closer to your body in a ploy to protect your damaged pride. Cassian only shook his head—again—and then flung an arm over your shoulder. 
“Don’t take that the wrong way. Just…take a second look, maybe.” 
“A second look at what? She was practically sitting in his lap tonight.” 
“If you say so,” Cassian hummed. 
“Stop being cryptic and buy me a snack on the way.” 
~~
The following days were… strange to say the least. 
Everywhere you went, Elain of all people was sure to follow.
And she spoke of Azriel. A lot. 
Azriel did this and Az is so sweet isn’t he and oh, did I mention that…
Obviously, she was just as in love with Azriel as he was with her. 
You were so, so right. 
There was something off-putting about that truth, but you couldn’t put your finger on why. After a few days of hearing the younger girl rave about the shadowsinger, you chalked it up to the novelty of it all. You had known Azriel for over a century, and things were changing. Of course a serious love interest in his life would make you feel strange. 
Azriel had had lovers in the past, but—now that you thought about it—you hadn’t heard him talk about another woman in months, much less seen him with one. 
Well, other than Elain. 
Perhaps it wasn’t healthy, nor productive, to be so caught up in Azriel’s love life. He was plenty capable of managing it on his own, and it’s not like you had that much of an interest, anyway. 
You blinked, shaking your head and attempting to focus back in on the book you were reading. Elain had followed you into the library under the house, but thanks to the priestesses and their admonishing looks, she kept quiet. She flipped through her own book as you continued your research assignment from Rhys. It wasn’t very interesting, which was clearly the most plausible explanation for your mind drifting to Azriel. 
Boring texts were the leading cause of nosiness.
“Do you have dinner plans?” Elain whispered after an hour of silence. 
You sent her a small smile, looking up from the archaic book. “No, are you inviting me out?” 
“Perhaps. I was thinking of asking Azriel.” 
A suffocating sort of pressure clawed at your skin. “Oh?” 
That was new. 
“Yes, but I would really appreciate it if you came,” Elain continued, eyes downcast. “It could be fun.” 
You bit into your bottom lip until the pain was uncomfortable. This was no different than her talking about Azriel all week. And you already figured that they liked each other—that they loved each other. You had relished in the discovery just a few nights ago. 
So why did it suddenly feel so different?
“I wouldn't want to intrude,” you whispered. “I think a dinner with just the two of you would be nice. Azriel would surely agree.” 
Elain shook her head. “I think he would be more inclined if he knew you were coming.” 
As a buffer. She was asking you to come to displace any awkwardness that would arise on a first date. You had done it before for Cassian. You’d done it plenty of times for Mor—even making it a double date with random men you never spoke to again. But you’d never done it for Azriel. 
Something about it felt… wrong. 
“I could come,” you found yourself saying anyway, words tumbling out before you could catch them. “But I really do think he would love a dinner alone. I might be a bit of an outlier.” 
Elain gave the closest thing to a smirk you’d seen on her face. “I somehow doubt that.” 
“What does that—” 
The ground was shaking. The faelights began violently flickering and the ground began shaking with even more vigor. You pressed down on the book in front of you and braced yourself as the air grew frenzied. The priestesses ran down the many stairs of the library as panic began setting into your bones. The last time something like this happened… 
You shuddered at the thought. 
This couldn't be an attack on Velaris. 
Elain called your name. You answered with wide eyes. 
“Get under the tables!”
You both dove beneath your table at the call, clutching at the legs with shaking hands. There was a commotion as books fell from shelves and lights popped, but there were no screams. No one was hurt. There was no attack. 
Realization coursed through you, but it did little to quell your fear as the shaking continued. 
“It’s an earthquake!” you shouted to Elain. “It’s okay, we’re going to be fine!” 
Velaris hadn’t been struck by an earthquake of this magnitude in many, many years. The last one was centuries ago, and it had led to many rebuilding efforts and a handful of injuries. You hoped this wasn’t on the same scale. Or at least that Rhys’ magic was enough to abate the worst of the damages. 
After another moment, the shaking ceased. You let the panic and adrenaline run its course as you caught your breath, Elain right beside you. It didn’t seem so bad now that it was over and the building had stayed intact. With a hand at your chest, you shook your head in disbelief. 
“By the cauldron, that was unexpected.” 
Elain let out a shaky laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt an earthquake before.” 
You offered your own breathy laugh as you both got to your feet. “Well, you have plenty of time to get The Mother scared out of you and experience another.” 
She opened her mouth to reply but was abruptly cut off as shadows materialized. Heavy footsteps rushed up stairs and it was only another beat before Azriel was upon you. Scarred hands cradled your face, turning it back and forth as hazel eyes took in every inch of your skin. Light became sparse as wings flared out behind him, shielding you from nothing.
“Are you hurt?” he demanded, voice still low despite the urgency. “Were you covered?” 
“Azriel? What are you—How did you know we were down here?” 
“Are you hurt?” 
You attempted to reconcile the chaotic present with the very calm, very expected past. Sitting in the library with a boring relic in front of you and a new reading partner compared to an earthquake and a frazzled shadowsinger clutching at your face. 
Gripping his wrists, you answered him with a slow and confused, “I’m fine.” 
He closed his eyes as he let out a long breath. “Good…. good.” 
When he released your face, he ran his hands along your hair. And then your shoulders and your arms. It wasn’t until he had touched most of you that he took a step back and ran a hand through his own hair. It was then that he seemed to remember Elain. 
“And are you alright?” he asked, far more composed than he had been a moment ago. 
“A bit overwhelmed, but I am fine as well,” she sighed out. 
Azriel didn’t touch her as he nodded in relief. 
“Was it as bad as the last one? Is everyone okay?” you cut in. 
Azriel, who had gone back to unnecessarily looking you over, furrowed his brows. “What?” 
You mirrored his expression. “The earthquake. Do you remember the last one? Was this one that bad?” 
“Oh. No. Not as bad.” 
“And how is everyone else?” 
“I’m not sure.” 
Azriel was typically short with his answers, but right now he was being particularly short. And he was never one to not have information. Ever. 
“Are you okay?” you asked instead. 
“I am now.”
You left the library wondering why Azriel had run to you and not Elain—why that moment felt so monumental in the face of all others. 
Maybe being right wasn’t what you wanted anymore. 
But maybe that wasn’t your decision to make. 
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three--rings · 6 months
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One thing I haven't seen a lot of talk about in the fandom so far is about the financials of this season.
It took us two whole months to get a confirmation of renewal from Max, and I talked at the time that I think there was probably a lot of heated negotiations going on at the time with contracts and that's why it took as long as it did.
I think we see a huge number of indications of the compromises that were made in order for S2 to be made. One obvious one that has been talked about is being making in in NZ instead of LA, to save $.
But there's also the eight episodes instead of ten. And then the cast aspect. One downside of moving overseas was having to fly out and house the cast, not just pay day wages.
We knew immediately about Guz Khan not coming back, losing Ivan as a character. At the time I was sad but I thought it had the air of a pretty harshly practical call. If you went through the main recurring cast and said okay which character will affect the fewest things, has the least character interactions of anyone? It would be Ivan. (With the only competition being The Swede IMO, but he's Stede's crew and therefore a little more central.)
And then this season started and we got first The Swede sidelined and taken out of major scenes. And then I noticed that different members of the crew were simply absent for long stretches, like Wee John isn't around for ep 5 at all. And then Buttons takes flight.
Lucius and Pete aren't at the party for most of it. Fang isn't in the torture scene. Roach and Fang aren't in the bar. Etc. SCHEDULING IS HAPPENING.
The new characters are almost entirely played by NZ local actors, which is great, but also...cheaper.
In other words there are big signs that they did everything possible to give us a giant cast of almost everyone we love from S1, and cool new characters, in the most economical way possible.
And I'm grateful for it. I'm grateful we got S2, and it looks great, and it's well written, I'm having a blast, and we get to spend more time with this awesome cast.
But I also kinda think it needs to be said that the cost-cutting shows. That it shouldn't have been only 8 episodes, the pacing is off. That we miss every time someone from the ensemble isn't on screen.
That despite what they've put on screen looking very good, there's far less costuming budget, there's less elaborate sets, and it's a little disappointing. And it's clear it's not a lack of will or talent or vision but blatantly lack of money.
Look, streaming networks want brilliant shows that people love (that will get them to subscribe) but they very don't want to pay anyone to make them. That's like, the whole moment we're having right now.
Max puts out promos about how great it is to not have unions messing shit up in NZ. Well I have friends who are union costumers in LA and guess what union costumers did amazing last season. This season, well, I guess Stede got three whole shirts, so that's cool.
So I dunno. It's just stuff I think about. I'm not trying to be negative about the show in any way. I'm extremely happy with this season; I love it more than well, possibly any show I've ever been in fandom for.
But I see you, Max. You're cheap. You weren't that cheap when you were called HBO.
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etheries1015 · 5 months
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We share the love language of biting. Now imagine TWST beatsfolk has that as an actual sign of courting. Like you're chilling with Leona, not dating or wooing him, and then you bite his cheek in affection. And all of Savanaclaw is shocked because among them, it's the same as i.e. proposing marriage. The utter chaos XD
OHH MY GOSSSHHH YOUR BRAIN >>> I LITERALLY LOVE THIS SO MUCH??? HAHAHA SODEFHSELKJD i'm gonna expand on that for a few characters...
Accidentally courting them
General warnings: Gender-neutral reader, not really proof read lol. Obvious Malleus and Lilia favoritism <3 I also decided that they ARE dating in this scenario, I think its cuter that way in my head heuheu
Featuring: Leona, Ruggie, Jack, Malleus, Lilia, ... and Rook HAHA.
TW: none! Just a bunch o' fluff of biting your non-human lover without realizing it was a sign of courtship <3
Leona
It was a typical day for Leona. You two were sitting in the lounge where most of the other students lingered, Leona becoming rather... possessive as of late. Instead of resting in his bedroom away from prying eyes as you had requested from your lover, he ignored all your feeble cries requesting privacy. Instead, he holds you in his lap without worrying what others are thinking. A form of showing others you were his, and his alone. You were conflicted in your feelings, staring at him. His eyes were closed, but he could feel your gaze burning into his head.
"How long are you-" Then it happened. You gave in. You gave his cheek a bit of a nibble. All of the sudden the chattering stopped, all eyes were on you, before they start patting Leonas back and giving him congrats while a few seemed to pull presents right out of their asses.
"Wha- what's going on?" Leona grumbled with a light blush before growling and pushing the face of someone who tried to hand him another gift.
"You all look like idiots! You know biting means something different to us. Don't be dumb." Okay, now you were extra confused. Seeing your utter ignorance, Leona sighed.
"Biting in our land is a sign of courtship, herbivore." ...Oh. You blush deeply and hide your face in his chest, Leona looking away flustered and ruffling your hair.
"Try again in a few years, and I just might bite you back."
Ruggie
You were walking down the halls with your boyfriend when suddenly you had the urge to just...bite him. an overwhelming sense of love and affection for the fact he had given you some of the bread he (probably legally) got ahold of. You smiled fondly at the bread and back at Ruggie before placing your mouth on the bulb of his shoulder, causing him to yelp in suprise and dropping his half of the bread.
"wha- huh?! What was that for?" He became flustered, bending over to pick up his bread and slowly move away from you with bright red cheeks. You furrowed your eyebrows and hugged yourself, almost embarrassed.
"I'm sorry, I just...I dunno," Your cryptic and non specific response left him with his jaw open and eyes wide, spluttering out things like "We're still in school! I don't have the funds yet-" before a familiar fist came and knocked the back of Ruggies head. Leona stood there smiling in amusement and chuckling at you.
"I don't think they know what that means to us beastman, Ruggie." Even more confused then before, you asked for clarification.
"You just asked him to marry you with that bite of yours, herbivore." Now YOUR mouth was wide open, and Ruggie managed to get flee from the scene without much notice from you nor his senior.
Oh brother. You have a lot of communicating to do with that one.
Jack
You were sitting at the lunch table eating away at your food when you noticed...Jack's biceps. You marveled at the sight of his bulky arms- it's a wonder to you how he managed to become so strong and have the motivation to train all day. With a burst of admiration, instead of biting into your sandwich - you took a bite into his muscle. He yelped in suprise and just stared at you, face slowly turning red. Ace and Deuce laughed at his reaction, ready to ask you what was up before Jack took it upon himself to... well, flustered and rapidly spit-firing plans.
"W-we are still so young! Are you sure about this? I-i never knew our relationship was at this level!" He grabbed both of your hands and looked you in your (bewildered) eyes.
"If you're serious about this, I promise I will protect and love you for the rest of my life. But before we go ahead with the ceremony, I want you to meet my parents and get their blessings. Oh, and I need to get a stable job after we finish school first, too, so I can support you and our future. know we haven't talked about marriage before but-" You quickly cut him off in astonishment before crying out,
"MARRIAGE?! Jack, WHAT are you talking about?! I am absolutely not ready for marriage! What got into you?!"
...Queue Ruggie and Leona hysterically laughing at your utter confusion, reveling in the ignorance of it all for a few moments longer before explaining properly what you had just committed yourself unknowingly to.
Malleus
You were laying in the bed of Malleus Draconias's dorm, scrolling on your phone whilst his tail wrapped around your waist as he sat next to you reading a book. You sighed lightly and leaned your head back against the board of the mattress, turning slightly to look at your handsome fae lover. Your eyes then went down to his pale and perfect skin of his neck, the way it was free from all blemishes, smooth, and bright. Something about it made you want to taint it a light shade of red... He felt you shuffle slightly to adjust your body to be in just the right position where his neck was in full view. He glanced over to you feeling you wriggle free from his tails grasp, tilting his head seeing the look in your eyes crazed as you leaned over and just...chomped down on his collarbone.
You felt his tail twitch and his hands quickly throw the book he was reading aside to grasp your wrists, turning your body around and pinning you to the bed and carrassing your cheek with his tail.
"Biting..." He murmured, "Does this mean the same to humans as it does to Fae? You wish to be wed?" Your jaw dropped and cheeks took on a rosey hue, stuttering over yourself.
"W-wed?! I mean, I like to bite when I feel affectionate b-but marriage...I mean maybe one day b-but-"
"Biting in Fae culture is a sign of courtship and ownership. How brazen of you to mark me," he chuckled, "I shall take it you wish to own the next king of Briar Valley?" You could tell at this point Malleus was teasing you, something he picked up from the time you two have been dating.
Malleus could not help but return the favor by riddling your body with his own bite marks. Although he understood you perhaps did not have the intention of marrying him with your silly little form of affection, he knew in his mind with every bite that he was very serious about your future with him.
Lilia
Lilia already knew that biting in the human world did not mean marriage, yet was akin to something more of "cute aggression." So when you have the habit of biting him in the privacy of yours or his room, he knows you simply meant it as a form of affection, letting him know that you had an overwhelming sense of love for the old fae. He bit you back consistently on many occasions, it just seemed to be the perfect form of showing love for one another.
You didn't actually know it meant something much deeper, until you were in the diasomnia lounge and unable to control yourself as you grabbed Lilias hand and bit down gently on his wrist. You couldn't help it, he was being so entirely silly and loving towards you, that you couldn't help but show this public display of affection. Much to everyone else's dismay, however. Sebek stares at you with his mouth agape, sounds of disbelief escaping past his lips yet a sentence unable to form. Malleus as well seemed surprised at this.
"(y/n)," Malleus said, "You wish to marry Lilia?" You coughed at the sudden question and let out a feeble and awkward chuckle.
"I mean...I wouldn't mind one day, of course. We haven't really talked about it. Why the sudden question?"
"HOW DARE YOU," Sebek cried out after finally finding his words, "How dare you bite Lilia and be so insolent as to not move forward with your actions in dignity! YOU MUST TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR PROPOSAL-" Lilia started snickering, cutting Sebek off with a wave of his hand.
"It's quite alright, Sebek. Biting means something much different to humans than Fae, I suppose this is the first you had seen us put on a show of affection, hence your confusion." He turned to you, who had furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips at Sebeks sudden outburst.
"Biting, my dear, is a form of courtship to us fae. It is a sign of ownership," He chuckled.
"Why didn't you tell me that?!" You exasperated, "I mean, it wouldn't have changed anything I have done, but I would have been more careful about it... especially if it means something more to you," Lilia gracefully explained he understood it meant something slightly different to humans, before gently grabbing your hand and raising it to his mouth.
"Well, now that you understand what it means," He put your ring finger into his mouth and took a bite at the base,
"Would you like to bite me once more, my dear?"
Bonus:
Rook
You bit his arm and he immediately was on one knee.
"Was that a proposal? You know mon cheri, biting one affectionately is often a declaration of courtship-" You hit the top of his head and walked away from your interesting boyfriend.
"You're not a beastman or a fae! I'm never biting you again!" Your face red and folding your arms, turning away (ah, his cute tsundere lover.)
Oh woe is Rook! He begs and begs you to bite him more, he wants to be covered in your marks. It means you were claiming him as your own, right? RIGHT??
~~~
This was so fun to write DFSEFDSFIHSLDKJF thank you for the brain rot heuheuheueheueh
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notafunkiller · 6 months
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What if I am too much?
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Summary: When Sam's girlfriend calls you clingy, you decide to give Bucky some space. What you don’t know is that he doesn’t want any space. None at all.
Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x female reader
Warnings: 18+, angst, teasing, language, pet names, spanking, daddy kink, metal arm kink, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 2.2K
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: I want to thank @marvelouslizzie for her help!
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
“Oh, you’re alone?”
You turn your head in the direction of the voice and smile politely. You don’t recognize this woman, but she looks at you like she does.
“Uh, yes. Hello!”
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
You instantly blush, ashamed, and search for Bucky’s face in the crowd. Nowhere to be found. Damn it!
“No, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she says before coming next to you. “I’m Misty.” Brunette, tall and beautiful.
“Where did we meet?”
“Sam’s birthday, but I’m not surprised you don’t remember me. You were too busy clinging to Bucky’s side all night.” She sounds serious, and you freeze, having no idea where this came from. She simply laughs, grabbing your arm with some kind of bionic cold hand for a second before letting it go.
It’s not like Bucky’s. It’s more... robotic.
“Clinging?” You ask confused.
“Yeah, you know, always sitting with him, holding his arm, following him around.”
You puff, already annoyed by this random woman. “Following him around? I’m not a dog!”
“Didn’t say you are a dog, honey. Just pointing out the obvious.”
You try to hold your tongue, pushing aside the impulse to start a fight. This is a night about Bucky. Not you or your discomfort. And she is his ex-co-worker-friend’s girlfriend. Your anger can wait.
“Alright, but how does my clinging affect you, though?”
“Oh, don’t take it so personally! I just meant to be friendly. It’s a girl’s advice. Live a little, being insecure is not gonna save your relationship.”
A piece of advice no one asked for. A take you never even considered. You’re not insecure and you’re definitely not keeping Bucky to your side all the time. You don’t… He is free to do whatever the hell he wants.
“Thank you.”
She has the audacity to laugh. “Don’t be so defensive, honey! Gonna get a cocktail, want some?”
You shake your head, feeling a hole in your stomach after she leaves you alone, and you basically run to the bathroom, trying to calm down. What if she is right, though? What if Sam heard or saw something? Maybe Bucky is extra grumpy or unhappy. Maybe he even complained…
You never thought sitting with Bucky is a sign of clinginess. You thought it’d help... he is not the most comfortable person at events. He gets stared at a lot, he hates small talk, and you really like being close to him. Gosh, you are clingy!
The rest of the night passes like a blur. When you come back, Bucky’s waiting for you, and despite your instinct to wrap your arm around his back and let him hold you, you keep a little distance, giving Sam and his nosy girlfriend a fake smile, while Bucky keeps staring at you strangely.
You even manage to avoid touching him all week somehow, except for a few kisses now and then. Your period came, and as he tried to hold you, you had to fight tears while telling him not to. You’re sick and tired and you miss him, but you want to give him some space. You’ve been suffocating him for so long... You make sure to cry only when he’s out because he might hear you even in the shower. He has super hearing after all.
You thought it would become easier every day, but quite the opposite. Every time you’re close to giving up, you remember Sam’s comment that he made a week after you met him about how Bucky always likes his space and what Misty told you, so you fight against your wish.
Until Sunday afternoon.
You’re in bed, scrolling down on Instagram as Bucky comes out of the shower. You try not to stare at him, but how can you not? He looks absolutely incredible.
What you don’t expect is him trying to get on top of you to tickle you with a huge smile on his face. He’s so adorable.
“B-Bucky, stop!” You laugh as his hands get under your T-shirt. He loves making you laugh no matter how he does it. “N-no.”
“Oh, I will,” he says playfully.
But what he failed to tell you is that stopping means sneaking his head under your T-shirt, which starts to rip a little because of the stretch, and resting it on your boobs.
“Bucky!”
He puffs, annoyed. “Why the fuck are you wearing a bra in the house, bubba?”
“Cause it’s a bra?” You ask back sarcastically, but you know this is weird. You always complain about needing to wear it outside. But inside? It’s even worse.
“Unacceptable.” He quickly rips your bra in half, not bothering to unhook it, and you feel his beard on your breast all of a sudden, making you shiver. Fuck, you really miss this.
“B-Bucky, come on, your hair is a little wet!”
“Bubba, please...”
“Bucky! Why did you do that?” He immediately takes his head out of your T-shirt, and you almost cry. He looks do lost and scared.
“Baby, do you not want me anymore?”
“What the fuck?” You groan. This is the last thing you wanted him to think. All you tried to do was to make him happy and feel less pressured.
“You don’t let me touch you. You don’t want to cuddle with me. You don’t wake me up with kisses. You don’t get on top of me You don’t hug me! What did I do?”
Your heart aches for both of you. “Wasn’t that better?”
“Better for who?” He cries. “This was the worst week of my life since Hydra.”
“Unfortunately, that cannot be true, Bucky.” You sigh, getting closer to him. “I thought you like space...”
“I do, but not with my fucking baby!”
You melt at his words, truth be told. He said it so passionately, but you’re so confused.
“I thought I was being too clingy, touching you too much, you know?”
“What? Where did this come from?”
You close your eyes. How are you supposed to answer this without sounding like a petty bitch?
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it does!” You feel his hands grabbing your face so you can look at him. “It means I did something wrong.”
You frown, upset that he thinks that. He’s been nothing but kind, understanding, and loving to you, and you hate how he feels like he failed you or something.
“Sam’s girlfriend told me I am clingy... always with you, never leaving you alone to breathe basically. And it reminded me of Sam saying how much you love your space, and I just...” You try not to cry, you really do, but you cannot hold back the tears this time, which Bucky immediately reaches to wipe with his flesh fingers.
“Jesus, baby! I don’t give a goddamn shit about what they say, you aren’t allowed to listen to anyone! Just let me touch you.”
You immediately wrap your arms around his neck, and Bucky lifts you a bit so you can sit on his lap. You can hear his heartbeat, and you find that so peaceful.
“I thought you’re gonna break up with me, honey.” He whispers in your ear. “I was terrified when you didn’t let me cuddle with you.”
“I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” You don’t know what else to say. You hurt both of you for days just because you let some woman get inside your head, but you had good intentions. “I just didn’t want to be a burden.”
“I should be the one saying that, not you, bubba.” He leaves a kiss on your shoulder. “God, I missed you so much, it feels surreal to touch you.”
“I love you, I’m sorry.”
“Promise to never do this shit ever again!”
“I’ll try,” you murmur. “I didn’t realize you want me to touch you so much.”
Bucky lifts your head. “You know I have to punish you for that, right?”
“Punish me?” You ask surprised.
“Yeah, for believing some stranger over your man. For pulling away and giving me a heart attack. And for depriving yourself of my cuddling skills.”
You giggle. “What if I let you suck my nipples for a whole week anytime you wanted?”
“I already do that!” Bucky lifts your T-shirt as he speaks, and you gasp.
“You do not!”
“Yes, I do. Remember when I came home from the last mission and I made you come by-” He lowers his head and licks your right breast, avoiding your nipple.
“Fuck you, tease!”
“I am the tease?!” He snorts, continuing to lick.
“You’re always the tease. Now kiss me and gimmie your cock.”
“I won’t give you anything until I punish you.”
“Jamie!” You scream when he turns you around, ripping off your shorts in half, along with your underwear before placing you on his thighs. “What the fuck?”
“What the fuck to you for keeping yourself away from me.” You feel him caressing your ass for a few seconds before slapping your right cheek with his flesh hand. You squirm, gripping into his hip.
“F-fuck!”
“Count.”
You groan. “Jamie...” He spanks you again but harder, and this time you moan. “T-two.”
“Nope, we start over.”
“O-one.”
“Good girl!”
The third and fourth aren’t as hard as you want and you find yourself wiggling your ass in the air.
“Harder.”
“Harder?” He snorts, amused, and before he can bring his flesh hand in the air, you grab his metal arm.
“Please, daddy, use this one!”
Daddy? It didn’t take too long for you to get back in the mood.
“Can’t use it, baby, I’m sorry.”
“No!” You cry. “I need it, pleaseee. I’ll ride your face as many times as you w-want.”
Bucky still doesn’t agree. “Baby, it would hurt.”
“Let it hurt!”
You want it to hurt because this pain is not unbearable, quite the opposite. It pushes you over the edge faster.
He sighs and listens to you, bringing his metal hand to your ass, but you barely even feel it when he slaps. You groan, upset.
“I said slap! Do you want me to hover?”
“I can fucking hurt you.”
“I told you to hurt me!” You beg. “Please, honey! Please, please, please.”
He does it again, not hard enough for you, but you count anyway. Again and again.
“Jesus, you’re making my thighs so wet. You’re such a little whore for me.”
“I’m your whore. Always, daddy, please!”
Bucky’s moan comes somehow from the back of his throat, and the last spanks are perfect. He gently caresses your ass, cooling it off with his metal hand, and you smile. “You’re so dirty sometimes, but also such a good girl taking your punishment perfectly.”
“I am sorry,” you whisper.
“For what exactly?”
You pout, grabbing his face. “For all of it. But you’re you, Bucky. You’re the greatest guy in the world, I just didn’t want to be annoying.”
“You were annoying when you didn’t let me even hug you.”
You know that, but sometimes you can’t help but do dumb things, thinking about him. “I wanted you to be happy.”
“Well, I wasn’t happy, obviously. And neither were you, bubba. Promise me you’ll talk to me first next time.”
“I was just stupid…”
“No.” You feel his thumb all over your lips. “You were worried. I love you and I really need your touch, okay?”
“I noticed,” you laugh.
“Good, now feed me my boobs, and then I wanna see you riding my face as you negotiated.”
You fake sigh and grab your boob. “Open up.”
*
You’re not sure how to react when Bucky drags you straight to Sam and his girlfriend as soon as you get inside the museum.
“Hey, Buck-”
“Who do you think you are?”
Misty gasps while Sam and you freeze.
“Wow, wow, wow, man. Hold on a sec, what is going on?”
“What is going on, Samuel?” Bucky asks rhetorically through his teeth. “Ask your little girlfriend where she got her audacity from to tell my girl she is clingy. That she basically spends too much time with me. Who the fuck gave her the permission to even speak to her? So she either apologizes and keeps her mouth shut, or we’ll have a big problem.” Bucky turns his head to look at Misty. “From one metal arm to another. Wanna try me?”
“You did what? What the hell?”
Misty frowns, staring at you. “You went to complain to him for giving you a friendly, harmless advice?”
Bucky instantly grabs her metal arm wrist before you can answer.
“You got three seconds to beg for her forgiveness before I snap your hand in half. And I am not bluffing.”
Sam doesn’t even try to get between them, simply watching, and Misty immediately gets teary.
“I’m... sorry.”
Bucky shakes his head, squeezing her wrist. Holy shit! You haven’t seen him like this in ages. “Didn’t hear you.”
“I am sorry. I should have minded my own business!”
“Yes, you should’ve,” you say without regret. “But I forgive you.”
Bucky lets go with a grunt before nodding to Sam and bringing his hand to your hips, leading you toward the exit.
As soon as you are outside, you don’t even care if someone can hear you as you speak. “Fuck, I wanna suck your cock so badly!”
Bucky laughs. “I see. In the car… is that okay for you?”
You get on your tiptoes to kiss him. “Perfect.”
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 7 months
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Spending the night at Simon's for the first time and him waking up to you in nothing but his oversized t shirt
Request from here
***
Eyes blinking as light filtered through his closed lids, Simon began to stir as the first bit of the days brightness filled the small bedroom of his tiny apartment. Slowly those thick, long limbs of his stretched their compressed muscles back to life as the blood flowed through them.
Turning over, he was surprised that there wasn't another body laying next to him under the covers; your bright eyes and warm smile were what he had planned to gaze upon, but there was no one. That put him a little on edge, this being the first time you'd stayed over at his shitty little apartment, but he tried to keep calm until he was fully awake.
Simon moved up onto his elbow as he lay on his side, his large hand rubbing the rest of the sleep that lingered from out of his eyes. He looked about, trying to find any signs of you: your discarded clothes from the night before lay in a pile on the floor right next to your shoes, your earrings still sat on the bedside table, and as he checked the mattress with his hand he found that it was still warm. It was obvious you were still around, he just had to go and find you.
A full yawn passed his lips before he heard the sound of clinks and taps, bangs and rustling coming from towards the kitchen area. So that's where you'd sulked off to, making breakfast no doubt.
God you were too fucking much, he wasn't used to all this sweetness, but he wouldn't change it for anything.
Carefully and quietly he moved out of the bed, scratching at the sparse covering of hair on his bare chest before he stood and straightened his sweatpants around his hips. He was hoping he could surprise you by showing up to catch you in the act.
With easy steps, Simon walked out of the bedroom towards the kitchen and what he saw standing there amidst pots and pans, a stack of toast and a pile of bacon to your right, it took his goddamn breath away.
The expectation was to find you naked, since the only clothes you had were still on his bedroom floor, but that wasn't what he found at all. Your hair had been pulled up, a few stray hairs poking out around your hairline that hadn't been secured and it looked like the only thing you had on was one of his old baggy t shirts.
As you moved, Simon could just see a peak of the underside of your ass pop through the bottom of the shirt, playing peakaboo with him the longer he looked. The lines of your legs, looked even longer as the shirt sat just below your hips. Those juicy limbs looked good enough to eat, bare and glaring back at him.
Fuck, you had never been more beautiful to him; it nearly made his goddamn heart stop beating. Being a big man had its perks and this was one of the best ones he found, that you were able to wear his clothes.
In that moment as he watched you happily go about your work, looking like a comfy dream, images of you doing this full time flooded Simon's mind and his stomach flipped excitedly at the thought. If there was anyone that could make that rough and brazen military man soft, it was you.
And maybe it was about time he let someone do it...
There was a sudden warmness against your back as two bulky arms wrapped themselves around your from behind, making you jump a little at the surprise. " 'mornin, luv," Simon's husky voice hit your ears before his kiss touched your cheek. "See you've made yourself at home."
You leaned into him, enjoying the warmth he still had from being wrapped up tight in the covers moments before. "I just...I wanted to do something nice for you, make us breakfast," you said, giving the eggs in the pan currently in your grasp a flip.
"Pretty sure you do more than enough for a bastard like me," he chuckled as one of those thick mitts moved down and cupped lightly over your sex. "This is all I need to stay well fuckin' fed."
Immediately the heat rose in your cheeks, flushing your face bright red.
"But I meant my shirt," he continued, secretly smiling from ear to ear at how quickly he had you blushing. Certain, heavy movements from his hands flitted across your torso as he rubbed over the lines of your curves through the familiar fabric of his clothing.
"Oh, sorry," you quickly apologized, thinking you had possibly overstepped, "I hope you don't mind, I just needed something and it was just there in the top drawer and..."
Another kiss on your cheek shut you right up. "Look fuckin' good like this, luv," he purred in your ear, his low, gravely morning voice making you shiver.
"Really?" you asked, glad that he wasn't mad you'd commendeered his clothes; in reality you knew it would be nothing, but this being the first time you'd done this, you still had some giddy nervousness about everything.
"Ya look like a fuckin' picture to me," he reiterated, those full lips moving down to your next now as he leaned more against you. "I thought I looked good in this thing, but it ain't nothin' compared to a fuckin' vixen like you."
You giggled playfully at all the sweet praise. Nearly missing the eggs being done, you turned off the stove and set the aside until you both were ready to eat. "Please, I look like hell."
"Bullshit," he said as he turned you around, picked up you, and placed your butt on top of the nearest countertop. He slid in between your open legs, letting his hands run down your side from where he had lifted you, sliding tenderly over the shirt. He was right, you were naked save for the shirt and that did something to his still sleepy brain.
Greedily he tilted his head and leaned up into you, embracing your mouth fully with all of his and making your lips dance together. Feverish and sloppy Simon connected with your lips again and again, making your still sleepy brain flatline.
If you could wake up every day like this it would be a fucking living dream.
His kisses would not let up as he pulled you in closer, his hands running over the curves of your back as he stole your lips with a lazy intensity.
"Breakfast is gonna get cold," you groaned with eyes closed, mouthing the words against his parted lips.
His hips bucked into your own. "Nah, my breakfast feels mighty fuckin' warm to me, luv," he said as he kept right at it.
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