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bigfatbimbo · 4 months

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The Morning After —

Velvette x reader,, 770 words

summary — The follow up morning after a one night stand with your situationship, Velvette, during particularly rowdy party.

tags — Fluff, mentions of sex, reader isn’t dating Velvette, pining, wlw implied but not really, gn reader

a/n — I am so in love with her she’s so pretty. Expect more Velvette content in the future. I know they don’t get as much attention but i’m down bad.

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was how warm you were. It took you a moment to adjust to your surroundings.

Instead of your shitty apartment, you woke in a far more glamorous, if you were being honest superior, room covered in lots of pinks. Yours and someone else’s clothes were scattered on the floor, along with various wine glasses.

And contrary to the usual solitude you woke with, you had your arms tightly wrapped around Velvettes stomach.

You internally groan. The party, you thought to yourself. Last night you went to an extravagant party hosted by the Vees, and had obviously ended up in Velvettes bed.

Of course, you two had fucked before, duh. In fact, your casual sex ‘booty-call’ relationship seemed to suit you both. But you had never actually cuddled with her afterwards, and you especially hadn’t stayed the whole night.

And yet, something was drawing you closer to her. As if when you break this contact you’ll never get this moment back. You pulled her closer to you by her stomach and nuzzled your head in the crook of her neck.

It’s then you got a good look at you. Her hair had fluffed up into its natural form in the night, leaving it soft and puffy, also allowing you to smell the faint strawberry conditioner she uses.

Morning light fell on her through the window, highlighting her features perfectly, ironically almost angelically. Her makeup from last night had smeared, her lipstick rubbing off onto her lower lip and her mascara smeared on her cheeks.

You could see her neck was littered in hickeys and from the ache on yours, you could only assume you had the same problem.

You press a gentle kiss on her neck and she stirred, humming softly.

“Morning,” you whisper, planting another kiss on the bruises on her neck.

“You’re still here,” she remarked, yawning and arching her back up into you.

The comment wasn’t mean-spirited, just simply an observation.

“I’m still here,” you say, almost, if not more dumbfounded than her.

This wasn’t your usual ‘fuck, clean-up, and run’ routine, but Velvette didn’t seem to mind.

“You know the coffee maker in the corner of the room?” Velvette asked, voice still groggy from sleep and a mild hangover.

“Yeah, I’m aware of it,” you say, scanning the room the place where the machine was.

“‘Would love some. Thank you, darling.” She nuzzled into the pillow next to her and gently pushed you away.

You roll your eyes slightly and get up, “How do you like your coffee?”

She simply groaned and buried her face in the pillow, “Who cares.” Maybe, she had more than a mild hangover after all.

You had a sneaking feeling that after you poured her coffee she would definitely care.

After coming back to the bed with two mugs she glanced up at you, “Toss me my bra, would you, darling?”

“Oh, of course, princess,” you tease, “Would you like a back massage while i’m at it?”

She took this in consideration, “Well if you’re offering.” She smiled cockily at you as she put on her bra and took her coffee mug off of the table.

You got back into bed and she squeezed in next to you, resting her head on your chest.

She took a swig of the coffee and made a face, “It’s too bitter.”

“You said you didn’t care!” you laugh a little.

There was something so funny about the current situation, you two lying in bed together with her at your side. Drinking coffee and bantering.

It all felt so domestic.

Which you felt strange because for one, you weren’t even dating and two, until today you had no doubts in your mind that you two were nothing more than great sex every now and than.

“Whatever,” she chirped, “I guess i’ll just have to go back to bed.” Velvette pulled you closer to her as she got comfortable.

A little part of you wondered if she was just bitching about the coffee to have an excuse to go back to bed. But why? So she could keep cuddling you? So you wouldn’t leave so soon?

You chose not to think about it, petting her hair gently as she went back to sleep. You couldn’t help but notice how pretty she looked like this, peaceful.

“Sweet dreams, princess,” This time the nickname didn’t feel as mocking. You thought about going back to bed, but you decided to stay up.

After all, you wanted to be there when Velvette woke up in your arms once again.

a/n —Following up a fic where the reader and Vox aren’t just friends or lovers but a secret third thing with a fic where the reader and Velvette aren’t just friends or lovers but a secret third thing.

I’m not projecting, my love life is uncomplicated and great.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin velvette #velvet hazbin hotel #velvette x reader #velvette hazbin hotel

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oakgreenoak · 2 months

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Something I've always found kinda interesting about Red and Green in gameverse is how they turn some of the Stock Shōnen Protagonist/Rival tropes on their heads.

This is really long character analysis of these two and various media counterparts of theirs, so I'm gonna stick it under a cut.

In some ways they fit their roles quite well - aside from the obvious colour associations, you have Red as the hero whose sense of justice is stronger than his sense of self-preservation, and you have Green as the privileged rival who cares about beating Red above all else.

But, if you look at it another way - Green's got the light spiky hair, the hot-headed and boisterous personality, the drive to Get Better And Win. He's designed to read as really open and chipper, yet snarky. Sure, he isn't dumb, but he's arrogant, and he's got something of a one-track mind; the guy finds himself in the middle of a hostage situation because he's just that hellbent on fighting his rival, and does not seem to be thinking about anything else. He's also got a motivation - given how the Professor talks to him in the championship room and supplementary material like his Generations appearance, it's not a stretch to think the reason he's so driven to Get Better And Win is to prove himself to his grandfather. It's shown in later games and supplementary works that he's become somewhat of a mentor as he got older and wiser.

Red, on the other hand, is a quiet loner whose only motivation seems to be to get stronger for the sake of getting stronger. He's level-headed and dark haired, his cap rounding off his edges and obscuring his face. He's heroic, but not really sociable, as evidenced by the fact he spends the Johto games alone on a mountain without having told anyone where he went. He seems isolated in a way that later games' protagonists really don't. He may have always been a step behind Green, but he's always better.

Equally fascinating to me is how other adaptations have changed the base designs around and rewritten personalities to suit different purposes, while still being visually recognisable as counterparts to their game-selves.

For example: Red and Green's counterparts in Special slot WAY more neatly into their stock shōnen roles, with Red as the boisterous hero and Green as the broody rival, and it's reflected in their new designs.

Red's hair becomes spiky to reflect his more excitable nature. His hat, in turn, never obscures his face; it's always either tilted back to accommodate his fringe or turned backwards. Green's hair, on the other hand, is not quite as spiked upwards and instead falls into his face, frequently obscuring his far eye in the same way game!Red's hat does.

And then, of course, the anime balanced them in a totally different direction.

Instead of scrapping Green's personality wholecloth, it's become exaggerated in Gary. He's not the broody antihero rival, he's the arrogant, privileged, better-than-you rival. He's always ten steps ahead of Ash, always pisses him off, and is ALWAYS better until the end of his run. The anime also emphasises his intelligence far more, with him doing things like rattling off dex info and the speed of light in mph off the top of his head, to further contrast him with Ash.

Ash, who is of course THE shōnen protagonist. He's dumb, but determined, and always ready to help people in need. Unlike game!Red, the power of friendship (with more than just pokémon) is central to him; any given season of the show is defined as much if not moreso by his travelling companions and interpersonal relationships as it is by whatever he's actually doing.

It's funny to me, though, how most adaptations seem to find the fact that gameverse Red and Green have swapped some stock roles as something to fix. Even Origins, which is probably the closest a high-profile adaption has come to game-accurate, made its version of Red louder and more standard-hero-esque.

I'm not knocking any of these things, of course, just observing. I adore both Special and anipoke. I just think that the way the game characters are written could lead to some interesting dynamics were it to be explored more.

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i-write-things · 4 months

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Cuddle Spider

(Yan! Chrollo x Willing! Reader)

It is in human nature to seek warmth. Achieving homeostasis is a characteristic of all living things. When we are cold, we seek warmth, be it physically or emotionally.

Imagine being freezing outside, and right next to you is a fire. But you are not allowed to cuddle up to said fire. You can only admire. A mysterious force is holding you back from gratifying yourself with such a comfort.

That is you right now. You are the one freezing. The cold is a combination of it being winter, and the AC running too much for your liking. Even as you sit on the edge of the bed you feel no warmth. The fire is the very man sitting across from you in a chair, reading and unbothered by the temperatures. And the mysterious force is your conscious.

A part of you wants to cuddle up to him. You're well aware he would be willing to do so. He's not doing a hefty task currently. Even if he only wanted to continue reading, who could hold you and read. His heat would be certainly welcome. Not to mention, the feeling of safety that comes with being wrapped up in his arms.

However, you feel- no, you know this is wrong. This man, though charismatic, intelligent, and thoughtful in his own unique way, is a monster. He took you. Without your consent, he scooped you up and away. And while you no longer have to worry about taxes, morons for customers and coworkers, and feeling touch starved, it doesn't change the fact he is not a good person. He steals things that are considered to be national treasures for the sake of, not even riches nor status, but rather for the thrill of the swiping. And also for a second reason you couldn't quite decipher, though you have your interpretations as to what he meant.

Still. That wasn't even the worst of it. As you look at him now- his raven colored hair hanging over his forehead, covering up that mysterious tattoo and just barely dangling over his eyes. Enigmatic, deep stone colored eyes that carefully scan over the contents of the page that tells a tale of who knows what.- he acts so calm. He is calm, really. But how? After all he's done, the stealing of precious valuables, stealing of people, the mass murderings...You just can't seem to wrap around your head how he can sit here, so relaxed and at ease, all whilst knowing the atrocities he's committed.

And yet, despite this, you still feel that compelling urge to crawl into his lap. To get him to lay down on the bed you now share, and lay down on his chest, his muscular arms creating a safe haven for you. Is it real love you experience, or is it the succumbing to Stockholm Syndrome? The latter being the most likely choice in this scenario. You've been kept here for what you estimate to be about 9 or 10 months. Truthfully, you have no real idea, but this is simply your best guess, judging by the weather and seasons. Though, it feels more like a year or 2 than anything.

Stockholm Syndrome was doing funny things to you. It made you crave the touch of a man you should despise with all your might. You continue to stare and think deeper and deeper about this. Truly, you where the beauty and he was the beast. Although he was an alternate, more backwards version. He started off as the handsome prince, then revealed himself to be a beast.

You and Chrollo. Beauty and the best. You chuckle at the thought. A grave mistake to make while staring at the chap. His observant eyes picked up to you, and a small, amused smirk sneaks onto his face as well.

"What's so funny?" He asked charmingly, as if you had just giggled at a joke he made.

"I-Its...nothin'. Just um...just a dumb thought I had."

"Care to share?"

"As I said, it's pretty dumb. it wasn't even all that funny, really."

"Then what's holding you back from telling me. You seemed as carefree as the wind when you where staring at me a couple of moments ago." His mouth transformed from an amused smirk, to a smug grin. Jerk. Doesn't he know how pretty he looks when he does that? He probably does.

"I-..." Your words die on your tongue and go back down your throat. Of course he knew you where looking. He's Chrollo fucking Lucilfer, of all people.

You have a couple of options. You can compliment him. Distract his thoughts, but you know from experience he will take it, and not give you your reward of changing the subject. You could insult him. But...something tells you not to, and it isn't fear. Just a feeling that you don't want to. You could flip the tables, and ask him what he thinks it is, but he would turn it once more and back to you. He was crafty with his words like that. Lying would be fruitless, as he would know immediately. He knows all your ticks and give aways. Your only option is the truth, and hope he doesn't feel insulted.

"I was just thinking...this whole...thing. It reminds me of beauty and the beast."

"Assuming I'm the beast?" He raises an eyebrow. "and what whole thing are you referring to?"

"I just- Well, um. Okay, yes. in this situation, you are the beast. Or at least, a reverse version. You used to be the handsome prince, and now you're the beast. And the thing I was referring to is...y'know, the not letting me go, thing."

"Hm..." He watches you for a moment with those predatory eyes before speaking. "You thought I was the handsome prince. Though I have revealed my true colors, my looks haven't changed."

Jerk. Handsome jerk.

"Well, yes," You sigh, knowing exactly what he was suggesting. And, it was true. "You're looks haven't changed and...you maybe still are um...y'know. But that doesn't take away from the fact you're a beast."

"I'll take that as a compliment. The beast did anything he could for Belle, if I'm not mistaken. And she did fall for him at some point as well. Are you sure you're still Belle and I'm the beast in this whole 'thing', as you put it?"

"It's only Stockholm Syndrome." You scoff playfully, not being able to help the small smile as you cross your arms.

"Excuse me?"

"I said it was just- oh."

You realize your mistake. A very, very stupid one.

You just admitted you having fallen for him. And that stupid smug grin you so dearly want to either kiss or smack off his face isn't helping.

"L-look, okay, I admit-"

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He queries, going to sit beside you on the edge of the bed. His hand started to slowly creep up and down your bicep, causing goosebumps to wake in his touch. Something he felt and was aware of.

"B-because I...W-well.." You nervously spout, looking for any sort of out. You can't tell this...this psychopath your true feelings. Instead of saying something smug, he does something worse:

He waits patiently and silently as you dig yourself into a deeper whole. Of course, you could deny, deny, deny. But...the fire is so close. Despite the force holding you back....if you could only just...relent a little. Besides, you'd feel releived, wouldn't you? Like finally telling your childhood crush you like them while on the playground at recess. That's exactly what this is. You're both on the playground, and he is your silly little crush, and none of this will matter. That doesn't stop your hummingbird of a heart.

Taking in a deep breath, with a face radiating the warmth you wish you'd receive from Chrollo, you finally talk. "Look, I just...Ok. I'm not even sure if I should love you. I mean, yes, I do love you, and I do want to be held and I secretly enjoyed it everytime you held me at night these past couple weeks. I cannot deny the way my h-heart skips everytime your gorgeous eyes observe my every action. Though I find it creepy, I also find it very fascinating. But I still feel like this isn't right. You-You stole many things, killed many people, and outright took me. I just- I just feel like I'm not supposed to love you."

He stares at you quietly for a beat or two after. For a moment, you're afraid you babbled on too fast, and he'd make you repeat yourself. But that's dumb for two reasons. 1. he can see and move faster than you can comprehend. 2. he speaks up after.

"None of your situation calls for normal circumstances. In the world you live in right now, your options are limited."

"Yes, but...-" Your chin is lifted up with his index finger and now you face him. What a sappy, cliche move. It doesn't prevent the already prevalent blush on your face to increase, however.

"You don't have to feel a certain way just because society wouldn't be pleased with it. After all, society wouldn't be pleased about any of this. And yet, no matter what, this will happen, anyway. So why care? It's not as though society has tried to save you."

He raises a point. A fair one, at that. That, doubled with the fact you so badly want to crawl into his arms right now. Who is stopping you? No one has dared help you before. Why should you care?

"I can see the stirring in your mind. You know I'm right." He states. You nod quietly.

"Then, what are you going to do about it?"

After a moment of silence, you give in. You gently push him back down to lay on the bed. At first, his eyebrows raise in surprise. He didn't think he convinced you to go this fast. But his confusion is soon quelled with an answer as you lay down on him, cuddling up to him in a much more wholesome manner than he thought you would. His expression softens. As you lay your head on his chest and curl up to him, he wraps his warm, protective arms around you. The book and mysterious force now gone. It all had dissolved much like a weak resolute in a strong resolvent. He let's out a peaceful, happy sigh, and you follow suit.

"You know, I've known about how you felt for some time." He reveals.

...Honestly, you knew. You are well aware nothing gets passed him. You where only just saving yourself from the embarrassment of admitting, and from the force that had held you back for what felt like a year.

"I know," you sigh "I'm just glad I get to do this now. Is it....is it okay of we do it more often?"

He let's out a handsome chuckle "Of course, my dear. How can I say no to denying you of what you desire when it's something as simple and precious as this? I had a feeling you might like this. Before I took you away, you where quite the cuddle bug."

"Hmm....." You hum. "Cuddle spider." You correct, nuzzling his chest. This felt much better than just staring at him from afar.

"Yes," he chuckles, liking your little pun. "My cuddle spider."

#i write for you #chrollo #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo x reader #writing for you #chrollo headcanon #Loosely proof read #probably a lot of mistakes #sorry if there is #chrollo x willing reader #yandere chrollo x Willing reader

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bitchimasnake-sss · 7 months

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"i thought you got possessed-" ft. luffy!

ft. luffy x fem!reader

set-up: you're pms-ing and he is such a dumbass. but that doesn't mean he isn't out here being the bestest boy ever. (please excuse his dumbassery, he was dropped on his head as a child)

warnings: none! very wholesome lol

- please dont get confused, this man has no idea how periods work - like how is it humanly possible for you to bleed and then stay alive and kicking? seems made up tbh - one eventful evening (before you both started dating), you and nami had to sit him down and give him a long-ass biology lesson, explaining what the whole phenomenon is, what pms-ing is and yada-yada - before this, he firmly believed that every once a while a demon possessed you all (and he saw absolutely no issue with that, what a fucking icon) "ohhh" he's laughing, "so that's what it is? i thought you guys like got possessed" "excuse me?" nami's on the verge to hit him in the head again and you're wondering if the constant hits are the reason luffy's braincells are (half) dead "i see, i see. i get it now" - he lied, he still doesn't quite get it - but its fine - so, it is just another random tuesday and (post-dating) you know syou love luffy. but holy shit, if he yelled "YN DOLPHIN!! LOOK LOOK A DOLPHIN! SUGEEEEEE" and giggled again, you might yell at him. you really do love him but if he stole your food one more time, you're convinced you might smack him too. "luffy" your voice was unusually low, devoid of any warmth, "stop that." "whatt" he whined, grinning afterwards as he scooped up more food from your plate "luffy. i said STOP IT." your voice rose higher and silence hung uncomfortably over the dinner table - luffy just looks at you dumbfounded - the way you're fisting your hand on the table and looking at him has the crew afraid that youre gonna murder the captain in cold blood - well, i mean ur considering the possibility too, so, you mumble a half-ass apology and return back to your room to be alone - lying against the soft sheets, you can smell the citrus detergent and oh boy, now you feel guilty - i mean god, that's luffy, that was nothing out of the ordinary for him. why did you yell at him? fuck, are you a horrible girlfriend?? - oh boy, now the tears are welling up too - "yn?" luffy whispers as he slips into the room, closing the door behind him and now you're really crying - i mean look at him, why did you yell at him? - "im so sorry, i don't know why i yelled at you, that was so shitty of me-" "hey, it's okay" he's hugging you tight, "you did nothing wrong, i can be a little bit dumb sometimes. i should have not taken your food" "what? no, i am not mad about that. i, i dunno-" you sniff, "maybe i'm just pms-ing?" "huh??" - took a while for him to remember but now that you've jogged up his memory, he looks so guilty, so, he spends the entire evening apologizing and offering you food, he even promises that he wouldn't point out dolphins every time he sees them (you had to reassure him that he can continue doing that)

- but now onwards, this lovely himbo tries to keep in check what he's saying, often giving you a lingering look as if asking "this is fine right?"

- but now you've got your personal defender!! - ussop made a joke and you're not laughing (because it wasn't that funny tbh) and luffy is ready to smack ussop and tell him to "not annoy" you. zoro is being dumb and luffy can see it on your face that he's pissing you off lowkey, so, he will actually tell zoro to not be a dick - mf just starts picking up fights left and right for your sake and now you have to give him another long ass lesson to make it stop - ps: he does not stop. - this man turns into a chihuahua, anything bothering you must be struck down. - very, very observant from now on too. he needs to make sure you're feeling good - also asked sanji to make your favourite desert - he just loves you so much and wants you to be as comfortable as possible (still doesn't know how female anatomy works though-)

a/n: omg i luv him such a dumbass

zoro's link <3 sanji's link <3

#one piece #monster trio #one piece x reader #luffy x reader #monkey d luffy #zoro x reader #sanji x reader

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jeonride · 9 months

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skip and kiss

SUMMARY; mingi says, "you have to kiss me if you skip a song because you're being disrespectful to my music taste!"

FEATURING; song mingi x gn!reader

TAGS; fluff, established relationship (boyfriend!mingi), slight humor

WORD COUNT; 1.4 K

WARNINGS; use of pet names, some kissing, mentions of sexting (but there isn't any scene of it), suggestive

NOTES FROM KALA; inspired by the song that mingi recommended (skip and kiss by sik-k) and i missed this boy sm 😔🖐🏻 the song mingi does have a great taste in songs yuhh >> mingi song recs playlist here !

jeonride's masterlist / join the taglist here !

The cold air from the air conditioner blows your face. You're lying on top of Mingi's chest while his back half leaning to the sofa bed, he's stroking your hair affectionately, occasionally kissing the top of your head when he's entertained by the stories you tell about your life experiences that he finds engaging. You aren't looking at each other right now. Mingi can only see your back. Yet you feel so loved in his embrace.

You love it when Mingi listens to you tell stories, making you the center of his attention. He always makes you the sole object of his attention when you tell him anecdotes or stories even though sometimes, they aren't that important, and aren't even funny. But Mingi likes to hear you ramble your thoughts to him. He stores everything about you in a room inside his brain while observing how you think when you respond to an annoying moment with your co-workers. According to Mingi, when he hears you tell him a story, he gets to know your attitude and the way you act, and how you solve problems, which inspires him to deal with difficult things in this life.

You are his role model. Mingi is your biggest fan in everything you do. Sometimes you wonder why he likes you that much. There was a moment when you were remaining silent, literally just breathing but Mingi looked at you as if you were a TV show that was so interesting and worth it for him to binge-watch.

Like now, Mingi kisses your cheek while complimenting you. "Your skin feels so soft," his compliments sound half-whispered, but you can feel his sincerity knocks your heart.

"Yeah because I applied your moisturizer." you reply with a slight touch of humor, successfully making Mingi laugh. His laugh makes you smile instantly.

"That's okay, you can use it. We can share, I don't mind."

You stroke his hand in response. Then there is a moment of silence between the two of you. You're really enjoying this moment— weekend, and you can spend time together with Mingi without worrying about unfinished assignments. Spending time with your boyfriend always manages to charge your energy again before starting a brand new day which will be just as tiring as days you successfully passed.

"Baby, I'm sorry can you hand me my phone? Wanna listen to my playlist while we're laying like this." he says, you follow Mingi's gaze to the table in front of your gray sofa bed. You get up slightly, struggling to pick up Mingi's phone on the wooden table because you are too lazy to stand. Not when you can feel the warmth of Mingi's embrace and his sturdy hands wrapped around your waist as if to imply 'don't go anywhere, please just stay in my embrace.'

You manage to grab Mingi's phone without actually standing up, then hand the phone with always pristine screen to its owner. "Here,"

"Thank you, baby." Mingi enters the password on the lockscreen. His hands are still wrapped around your waist as he holds the phone and his chin lands on your shoulder, so you get a view of what he's doing on his phone. You giggle as you look at Mingi's wallpaper— it's your photo, the one you sent him over chat. It's a selfie of you sensually licking on a lollipop, deliberately teasing Mingi. You remember sending it in the middle of the night and successfully getting Mingi to call you, asking for a sexting and you agreed.

"The wallpaper's cute,"

"Oh, shit." Mingi hides his face in the crook of your neck. "Please pretend like you don't see anything."

"And why is that?"

"I'm... embarrassed." You can feel how hot Mingi's cheeks are on your skin. You chuckle, then your hand strokes the top of his head, ruffling his hair gently because you think Mingi is so adorable right now.

"Why are you embarrassed? I remember even when sexting you were so—"

"Okay, baby. Stop. I'm really embarrassed now..."

You turn your head to the side, holding Mingi's chin with your forefinger, directing his face to look at you. He looks up, gazing at you shyly. You can see both of Mingi's ears turning red now.

"My baby being embarrassed, huh?"

Mingi nods slowly, looking adorable and delightful at the same time. Seeing how embarrassed his expression is, you don't continue your teasing.

Mingi on the other hand starts to open his playlist, and connecting his phone to the speakers in the tv room of his apartment via bluetooth. He presses the play button, it's only the first song, literally just started. But you press the skip button.

"Hey!" Mingi reprimands, his tone gets higher an octave. He seems disappointed. "You can't do that, baby. At least, not when the first song jus started!"

"But I'm in the mood to listen to the next song," you retort, cut the chase.

Mingi sighs in an unbelievable look. "Then you have to kiss me if you skip a song because you're being disrespectful with my music taste!"

"Oh come on, Mingi!" you protest. But eventually nod in agreement. This big baby of yours has to be obeyed otherwise his lips will continue to pout. "Okay then, deal."

Mingi smiles with satisfaction. He points to his soft and pink lips— that look so tempting, signaling you to kiss him. "Then kiss me. You just skipped literally the first song,"

You nod, smiling— the duchenne smile, and Mingi finds it enthralling, so lovely. You lean closer to him, kissing his lips softly. As soon as you suck on Mingi's lower lip, he instinctively opens his mouth. Returning your kiss with all his love. But when his tongue just met yours, you pull away. Mingi's face imprinted with a disappointed look, "Baby—"

"If I keep kissing you it will be a neverending make out session, Mingi. I've known you for years."

"Oh," he laughs. "You know me too well."

You return to your respective positions, you rest your head on Mingi's chest as if he was your pillow. You love hearing his heartbeat that always races when he's with you. Beating fast just for you.

Mingi's hand slowly slips into the shirt you're wearing, his shirt, the one he gave you when you arrived at his apartment. You were all wet because of the rain.

His large palm strokes your stomach, up and down. There is no lust involved, he just wants to give you a few strokes to soothe your body that had been working hard all week.

"Baby," he calls you in such a honey-like voice. "Can you just skip the next song?"

"Huh? Why?"

"I wanna be kissed by these pretty lips." Mingi strokes your lips with his thumb even though you have your back facing his face. He did it by muscle memory.

"Nope. Unfortunately the third one is also my favorite song,"

"Okay, changing rules. You have to kiss me everytime you listen to each song on my playlist."

You chortle. "Hey, that's cheating! We have to stick around to the first rule."

"Baby," he whines, with his deep ass voice though. "I'm the one who made this kissing game so I have the absolute right to change the rules."

"It's like you're forcing me to kiss you, Mingi." you shake your head acting as if you're disappointed, but a smile forms on your face. Happy just with the thought of him desperately wanting to be kissed by you.

"No, no please don't be misunderstood, I'm just... eager to—"

You kiss his lips again, at this time to shut his mouth. Mingi is surprised, of course. But he returns your kiss wholeheartedly. You open your mouth once his tongue knocks on your lips with such tenderness, wanting you to open your mouth for him and only him. Your tongue meets with his, entwining, saliva mixing. Mingi also grazes your teeth one by one with his surprisingly flexible and skilled tongue. Your fingers run to his hair, as he deepens the kiss by cupping your cheek.

The cold air from the air conditioner does nothing to lower the heat of the fire inside your chest. It's the way he kisses you that makes you weak. He feels like he wants all of you, wants to savor all of you, wants to feel the word 'baby' from your mouth on his lips while he's kissing you passionately. Everything about you is so addicting to him. Oh, you're such a lovely creature in his eyes.

Mingi ends the kiss when he can feel you need to catch your breath. He smiles, a smile that looks prettier than anything you've seen in this world. And you're sure you'll fail when you look for something more beautiful to beat his smile.

"I will never get enough of your kiss."

"Of course you do, Mingi."

And both of you laugh together, hearts feeling full with love for each other.

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thewertsearch · 8 days

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Anonymous asked: You: "Wow Homestuck is my favorite comic ever! Kanaya is the best :)" Hussie: "LOL, LMAO" @morganwick asked: (Try not to think about the idea that the conversation future Jade alluded to where Kanaya got the password was the one with past Jade that immediately followed that conversation, and that Jade is waiting for a password from Kanaya that'll never come…) @bladekindeyewear asked: [...] regarding the password Jade said earlier she had been patiently waiting for… unfortunately, I think we saw Jade give her said password just before the walkaround… and in hindsight, it’s quite a regrettable one. “GG: the password is…………… GG: CROOOOOOOOOOOAK”

I had the same chilling thought over the weekend.

Yes, it's very possible that Kanaya closed her password loop in her very next conversation, which means the timeline doesn't actually require her to be resurrected. This removes the main piece of evidence I had that she's coming back - but even so, I still don't think she's gone for good.

What it boils down to, basically, is that Kanaya still has a lot to do.

First of all, her arc surrounding the survival of her race is still unresolved. Sure, someone like Karkat or fellow Space girl Jade could pick up the baton, but this arc isn't theirs. Jade has no personal investment in it, and Karkat, while obviously motivated to save his species, isn't connected to the Matriorb or Mother Grub the way Kanaya is. This revival plotline is hers, and right now, it's dangling like a loose thread.

If that was the only narrative issue, I could look past it - but it's not.

Guys, this was her last conversation with Rose. And I'm sorry, but I just don't believe that one of the longest-running ships in the comic would end here. Kanaya's romantic arc with Rose is really just getting started, and their last conversation really doesn't scan as a goodbye, even in retrospect.

Like, sure, these last words would be kind of ironic, but is this really how you close the door on one of the most kickass compelling relationships we have? Rosemary deserves a better death than this.

Speaking of which...

This is how we're disposing of Kanaya? With an (admittedly kind of funny) SBaHJ reference?

Bro, a significantly less important character, gets a dramatic death pose, framed by one of Karkat's best lines, and Kanaya - Kanaya Fucking Maryam - gets a sparkly Hope wand and a meme? I'm calling bullshit.

Now, Homestuck is more than happy to give its characters undignified deaths. Tavros certainly got one - but Tavros also died at the end of an intense, dramatic flash animation, and his murder served as the culmination of the Vriska/Tavros arc we've been following since early Hivebent. Tavros died without dignity, but the narrative weight of his death was enormous.

Kanaya died in the middle of multiple character arcs, in a manner that lacked dignity or narrative weight. She was essentially collateral damage to an unrelated feud between Eridan and Feferi. She died like a secondary character, and she's not.

I'm self-aware enough to admit that this is partially wishful thinking. It's not like I'm an unbiased observer - Kanaya is my favorite character, and I dug deep into the comic for evidence that her death doesn't make sense. But, that said - her death doesn't make sense. My narrative instincts are telling me that Kanaya is coming back - I just don't know how.

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #asks #act 5.2

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mtkay13 · 4 months

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Gonna post TWO hoboxus today because I CAN! (still desperately trying to catch up with my twitter posts LOL help I'm terrible at this)

From a meme based on art by KOTTERI, the author of Veil (among amazing other things). Find them on twitter @_K0TTERl_!

More musing below, as per usual! (Be ready it's a LONG one again)

I really hesitated with how I wanted to do this. The original had this gorgeous red poster that seemed like a perfect fit for WKX:

(@_K0TTERl_)

Either I went for the imagery of ZZS wistfully gazing upon the mysterious and eccentric WKX, which would definitely have been more aesthetic and undeniably fitting, or I went the semi-humorous route of channelling the "WKX fell for that ugly hobo and his gorgeous shoulder blades" meme-ified side of their dynamic.

Well, clearly that's where I ended up going, but I feel like explaining a bit.

For me, this picture was three-folds:

First part is the meme; it's kind of funny, kind of ridiculous, and sets the tone of what TYK starts off as; rather absurd, with its reasonable dose of dark humor, and the (at first seemingly improbable) meeting and love story between a silly dying hobo and a strange, suspicious, hedonistic gentleman. It felt thematically appropriate for TYK to twist the original image and put the obviously uglier one on the poster since TYK relies heavily on genre subversion to begin with.

Secondly, there is WKX. So, controversial opinion (/jk) but I don't think WKX was necessarily convinced or even really thought that ZZS was "a beauty" underneath his alleged mask. It was probably a mix of various feelings and teasing/provoking which lead to this joke. First, everything he expresses throughout the book and in extra 4; the fascination for this man who seemed too hide great strength and was of no known identity--who was probably more than what he seemed.

(I'm gonna push it just a little bit ((but isn't that the fun of literary interpretation)), but the "beauty under the mask" is not only physical. It could be a way to say, I think that beneath your raunchy, ridiculous attitude, beneath your gross appearance, beneath the pretense that you're a nobody, that you're a peasant, you're probably someone of great importance and great accomplishments, someone much stronger than you pretend to be--someone like me, perhaps, even. The shoulder blades references are, besides of course WKX *actually* noticing them, the observation of how ZZS moves, of how agile his body is, etc...)

Anyway-- the entire point of this intro is to say that to me, this isn't actually referring to that whole side of their dynamic (or not entirely), but rather to that passage that I am STILL OBSESSED WITH where Wen Kexing recognizes ZZS just from the way he's sitting in a restaurant, and that makes him feel things not entirely positive:

Zhou Zishu stepped into an inn alone. He chose a seat by a window, ordered a few side dishes and a jug of mulled rice wine, and drank it slowly while soaking in the sunshine. As soon as Wen Kexing walked in, he saw Zhou Zishu from behind. He didn’t know why, but he thought that this view was quite special—he could always pick it out of a crowd. Zhou Zishu did not sit with his back straight. Most of the time, he lounged indolently at an angle that looked exceptionally comfortable. Wen Kexing thought that it seemed as though nothing weighed on him; seeing him was enough to ease the heart. Wen Kexing unconsciously halted his steps. He stared at Zhou Zishu’s relaxed silhouette for a while, with no trace of an expression in his face or eyes. His heart swelled with some strange feeling—strange, in that it was no feeling at all. He felt as though this man was mocking him with this wordless posture; he who rushed around for one thing or another, who was burdened with so many cares, yet obstinately put on a devil-may-care persona. Zhou Xu—as carefree as duckweed, he thought, with a body like willow catkins. In all the world, with its boundless perspectives, where could you find someone who walked their path alone and never allowed anything to trouble them? Yet he was not apathetic—he had his joy, his anger, his sorrow—and they came in a flash as quickly as they went. Within the blink of an eye, he had forgotten it already.

(Tian Ya Ke, chapter 18, TL by Lianzi) (have I quoted this already??? If not I should have I love this passage so much)

AND THEN QUOTING ANOTHER PASSAGE (LOL), TL by me this time:

From the moment he'd noticed his shoulderblades, felt this rush of excitement, to when he'd started liking who Zhou Zishu was, when he'd thought——so this is the Commander of Tian Chuang. Suddenly, he'd felt as if he'd met his other self. Both of them, lone wolves caught in a hunter's trap, struggling for freedom to no avail, until they had resolved to coldly gnawing off their own legs in the end. He'd felt compelled to follow him around, watched him, until he suddenly realised—if Zhou Zishu could live like this, then surely, so could he?

(Full passage in this other post LOL)

So yes, THIS. Those two things. That's it. Need I say more? HAH OF COURSE I DO I ALWAYS HAVE TO (help)

More seriously--the way WKX is captivated by ZZS' apparent carefreeness and freedom, all the different feelings (or absence thereof, as he puts it, which I interpret as so distant from what he's used to feel that it almost feels like nothing at all) is what I was going for here.... By not showing his face at all LMAO

The envy, the frustration--the impression of being mocked, but also the longing, how it inspired him to follow along and try to be free like he was.

-cough- yes, so that was point 2 out of 3.

Now lastly, about ZZS himself and my representation of him as hoboxu. I think (?) I've written enough about him that I think I can keep this succint. I love how priest often makes a point of expliciting, in the book, how he's so often smiling, and how he's always incredibly energetic in the morning, as if the night of pain had never happened. I like to think that hoboxu is both a carricature of a ridiculous character that ZZS has fun embodying---but also a liberated expression of his deeper self.

WKX feels like he's mocking him, but ZZS is also mocking himself relentlessly, when he feels like the outside resembles the inside finally, when he feels ridiculous in these new robes, when he allows himself the most outrageous behavior---and then there's mocking life itself, mocking jianghu, mocking everything that he nonetheless deeply cherishes. It's almost... gently mocking, affectionate mocking of everything because his own life has become a joke yet he's still going to enjoy it to the fullest--drinking to his heart's content, rolling in the mud and visiting touristy sites (or so he intended).

In the end... the world is still in his own hands. He chose everything, chose the way he lived, the way he (would have) died and still has the power to dissappear at will--but he stays. Stays and endures what he pretends annoys him, because he can't help himself, because he's ridiculous and is aware of it and may as well have some fun while being so.

I can't seem to ever have enough of this, of this vibe. I wanted to have him laugh at and with WKX, at and with the people seeing him, at and with himself, at and with the narrative.

SO YEAH HAH THATS HUM THAT'S IT. You know what they say, it's only a fun meme if there's an essay behind it (noone says that help 😭😭😭😭)

I hope you had fun reading it and have a nice weeked 🤪

#tian ya ke #tyk #zhou zishu #wen kexing #wenzhou #zzs #wkx #meta #LOTS OF META LOL

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morgandoesstuffsig · 1 year

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Idk if ur requests are open, but hear me out XD. A creator!reader who descends on Teyvat meets all the Archons and such. Then up and leaves by changing their appearance in order to explore their creation and how it has changed. Every once in a while Creator will make themselves obvious by performing acts only the Creator could. Once they are found out they just up and leave again only to resurface after another Divine act. TLDR: Creator playing cat and mouse with Teyvat

oh my GOD creator is just TORTURING then atp

small ramble because i still have massive writers block [cries] also ignore how late this is pls ok mwamwa thnx

c.w // yan. chars

song : Best Friend - Rex Orange County

SAGAU INCOMING : YAN CHARS.

okay so you decided 'hey man, what if i wasn't worshipped the moment i stepped outside'

so you just said fuck it and shifted

(it's been a while since you've done so, it kind of felt weird and hurt a tiny bit)

walking around teyvat in an odd, different form. completely different hair, height, clothes, you get the gist

the only things you couldnt change however were three things:

your blood (still gold, but you didn't plan on bleeding infront of anyone)

your aura (still comforting, caring, and even alluring)

your voice (why? zero clue.)

escaping the throne room you've oh so sadly been bound to!! having fun while doing it!!

(the only real reason you managed to escape is bc you managed to get the archons out and actually tend to their nations, as per your request order)

messing around while escaping fr!! people passing by wondering why this random person they've never seen is (not very) sneakily running away from the creator's palace/temple

but eventually shrugging it off, albeit reluctantly

messing around in mondstat, playing with the npc children more than you could usually, giving them the time of their life!!

this is where you use your first creator powers >:3

some poor kid scraped his knee real hard on the bridge, let's say timmie (hes so sweet he just wants to defend his birds pls b nice to him!!)

you, being the belovent god you are, use your divine powers to heal him

whether you do it with the hc of having to use your own gold blood or just having special healing powers only creator has, you do it

however, your dumbass mind hadn't thought of the fact that Venti may have been watching this

new outlander person with a mysterious aura

and now he quickly learns its you :0!!

the archons had no clue you could shapeshift!! why wasnt this in the ancient scrolls??? did they just lose the ones that mentioned it???

venti immediately finds some weird wind way to tell the other archons

fucking loud mouth

speaking of which, ei is freaking. out.

she came back to just check on you in your throne room and youre just.

not there??

panics, almost goes to zhongli before she gets venti's message and calms down slightly

atp you've realize you've outed yourself

so after making sure timmie is find you quickly run off into the forest before venti can come after you and smother you (both physically and with questions)

forest reached, new mission : new form needed

this basically keeps happening, and it's a needed breath of fresh air for you

running to liyue looking like a normal person until you magically form a special medicine that was unheard of from your hand for an elder, sickly lady

running from liyue to sumeru and shifting into!! an animal!! a fox!! cat!! tiger!! dog!! bird!! any of the sort!!

only getting outed from sumeru after you accidentally spoke while in animal form and having to go over to inazuma as an unknown, traveling sailor!!

getting outed after that for your extremely familiar aura and voice (inazuma people are scarily observant towards strangers) and eventually getting shoved escorted back to your palace/temple

funny stories to tell

however, the archons wont be leaving your room for quite a while..

oh well, who says you don't have other stunts to pull?

#morgan.died : writes #x reader #genshin impact #requests open #genshin cult au #sagau #sagau x reader #genshin #self aware genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin rambles #rambles #various x reader

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liyawritesss · 4 months

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ᖴᒪOᗯEᖇᔕ Iᑎ ᗷᒪOOᗰ - ᐯᗩᒪEᑎTIᑎE ᗪᖇᗩᗷᗷᒪEᔕ

ＤＡＹ２－ＪＥＷＥＬＲＹ

》 Friendship Bracelets - Hobart "Hobie" Brown - Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse

　－　In which your set of bracelets end up getting destroyed on a mission and Hobie replaces them with his own.

Check out more prompts and other activities on the Flowers In Bloom Event Masterlist!

Your mind can’t seem to focus on the words that Miguel is saying. They come to you in mumbles, the debriefing you’re supposed to be paying attention to going in one ear and out the other. It wasn’t on purpose; the importance of the mission was made quite clear from the moment it was assigned to you and Hobie a week prior. At some point between its conclusion and the debriefing with Miguel, however, your mind became distant.

It wasn’t hard to figure out, though; at least not for Hobie Brown, a guy who despite his carefree and relaxed nature, was more observant than what others believed. The way you continued to paw at the space on your wrist was more than enough to tell the punk what’s been bothering you.

“Mission’s done, crisis avoided, lives saved,” Hobie eventually drones, having heard enough of the overbearing lecture from the older, much more nuanced, Spiderman, of whom he’d have less of a care than the dirt under his boots, “can we go now, yeah? Day’s still young, I’d rather spend it kickin’ and prancin’ on my own time.”

Hobie has always had a special way of pissing off Miguel - perhaps it was the attitude he never once failed to show to the elder, or perhaps it was because of the lack of control Miguel held over the younger - but nevertheless, a huff and a grumble from the leader dismisses the pair to be off on their own endeavors.

“I hate that I lost them.” you mumble out while walking down the hallway, your strides double the pace of Hobie’s in order to keep your paces matching. He’s got his hands in his leather jacket pockets, head tilted forward and proud. “Lost what?”

“My bracelets,” you lament, “that stupid anomaly messed me up and my bracelet got destroyed. Ugh, I knew I should have put them away before traveling out to that dimension.” There’s a pout on your face that makes Hobie frown - he hates to see any of his mates upset. “He said it was pretty bad there, I should’ve listened.”

“Piss-Face says it’s bad everywhere, can’t take him seriously, birdie,” Hobie says, “besides, wasn’t your fault. It’s part of your get up, ain’t it?”

“Kinda,” you reply, “I just had them for so long, I feel so…bare without ‘em.”

Hobie’s strides take him a few paces ahead of you, turning to walk backwards instead so he can face you. He gives you a once over, chuckling, “You’re right; you look mad weird without em.”

“Not funny, Hobie!” You frown, but the creases in your forehead then turn to confusion when he tosses something your way. Catching it between your hands, you open your palms to see the set of bracelets you’d believed to be destroyed in the battle; tied and combined with a piece of what you assume to be a studded band of Hobie’s.

“Good thing you got a friend who knows how to mend, yeah?” He chimes with a knowing smirk.

“How did you-?” You begin to ask, but the taller Spider brushes it off before you have a chance to address it any further.

“I’m starved, hope they have something good at the cafeteria today,” dark wicks dance as he turns forward once again, the destination set in his mind, as he turns back to you, “you comin’ or what?”

A moment passes before a much more pleasant smile that Hobie knows your for graces your lips, as you slip on the bracelet and walk in stride with him once more to the cafeteria.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

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magneto-was-fucking-right · 5 months

Text

The Ghost Next Door - Chapter 4

Prompt: After suffering an almost lethal injury in combat, Simon "Ghost" Riley expected a dull, and uneventful leave back at his shitty apartment. His new next-door neighbor ruins his plans. Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader (named Riley Thomas for plot purposes)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 5

Disclaimer: slow burn; neighbor!Simon; will eventually contain very graphic descriptions of smut;

Chapter summary: In which Simon fixes his neighbor's leaky faucet and thinks about fixing something else... Word Count: 1.4k

When Riley Thomas had walked into the building’s unreliable elevator that night, barely beating its closing rickety doors, she hadn’t expected to see Simon already inside, sulking. His black hoodie and faded jeans were just as soaked as her woolen jumper and bell-bottoms, her hair in significantly worse disarray as she wiped the rain drops from her forehead, cheeks rosy from the cold.

The young woman hadn’t seen him for almost two whole weeks, the scarce discreet noises stemming from the thin walls hardly giving away his routine – she left too early in the morning to notice signs of movement and usually returned well into the evening, precluding the chance to ever see him return from any possible outings. When she did hear something – anything at all – it was usually late at night, as his tossing and turning in bed caused the mattress’ springs to creak noisily. She knew at least that their rooms fell on adjacent parts of their respective homes (not that she cared), and that he most likely shared her terrible insomnia. If she hadn’t met Simon, she’d think she had no neighbor at all, a vacant apartment next door inhabited solely by a ghost. Mostly silent, eerily quiet.

“Hey! Haven’t seen you in a while.” Her cheeks reddened and she hoped she didn’t look as breathless as she sounded, the quick run from the grocery store to the building tiring her out.

He nodded once in acknowledgement, barely eyeing her, a Chinese food container secured in his large hands. Riley’s smile faltered slowly as she realized he wasn’t planning on indulging her chit-chat. As her hand moved to the elevator buttons, fingers purplish and swollen from the cold, Simon grunted:

“Already pressed’em.” She blushed once again, feeling anxious sweat form in every pore as the elevator doors shut.

“Right…Sorry.” A nervous giggle made its way out her mouth, and she took a deep breath before attempting a new social interaction.

She looked up, observing his side profile as discreetly as possible, eyes fixed on his black facemask.

“Can I ask you something?”

Simon sighed before replying.

“No.”

“Why do you always wear a mask? Got covid or something?” She deliberately ignored his moody reply.

“Would you stay away from me if I did?”

“Maybe.” She shrugged, and the man forced a sickly cough so dramatic she couldn’t help but laugh.

As they reached their floor, Simon patiently waited for the young woman to exit the lift first, trailing behind her smaller frame like a massive shadow.

“I love that place” She pointed at his food from the Chinese restaurant across the street, the delicious smell from its contents having filled the elevator, and now wafting down the hall. “Funny…Never took you for a spring rolls guy.”

Simon rolled his eyes “I usually go for chicken fried rice.”

“That’s my favorite!” Riley smiled excitedly.

“Great.” He replied dismissively as he fished for his keys.

“How’s your leg?” she asked, and Simon halted at her soft look of genuine concern, his keys dangling between his thick fingers.

“Quite decent.” He conceded, eyeing his own thigh. He didn’t limp nearly as much, and he had been as cautious as possible with the sutures she had skillfully provided.

“Great, and I’m sorry if it’s been too noisy lately, I’ve been cleaning up the place and I’m still finding permanent homes for most of my rescues.” Riley grimaced slightly, aware of how inconvenient her presence was as a neighbor.

He shrugged, remaining silent as she kept talking.

“Do you happen to know anyone interested in the German shepherd pup?” She asked with pleading eyes “I love Rex, but he’s no dog for a crammed apartment with other pets.”

She observed him as he seemed momentarily lost in thought, his pensive gaze zoning out before returning to hers.

“I do, actually.” Simon shifted his weight “I’ll let you know.”

“Perfect...I’ll be waiting.” Riley smiled brightly at the prospect as she unlocked her door.

She was just about to bid him a good night when he blurted out:

“I didn’t thank you.” He mumbled awkwardly. They stared at each other for a few uncomfortable seconds. “For the stitches. An’ the groceries.”

A slow, mischievous grin crept up her cheeks, two characteristic dimples dotting them as she replied.

“Day off tomorrow. I’ll be waiting for you to come fix my faucet.”

“But-”

“And I love your new rug, by the way!” She taunted as she quickly scurried inside, leaving him baffled on his doorstep.

He huffed as he looked down at the pink rug she had gotten him – the one he had reluctantly placed outside his flat, those three annoying words right under his muddy boots.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell.”

***

“Hold the light still.” A moody grunt.

“I’m trying!” A whimper of despair.

Simon Riley found himself lying on his aching back under his neighbors’ kitchen sink, firm hands holding a rusty wrench that stained his calloused fingers.

He could easily bear the straining of his muscles on the awkward position, as well as Riley’s aptitude to point her phone’s flash to anything but where he actually needed it, if it wasn’t for the dog constantly biting on his boot, and a large, old cat trying to sleep on top of him.

“I’m sorry about Milo.” She frowned as she tried to push her feline companion away. “He’s old and tired.”

“Me and you both, mate” She tried to suppress a giggle at his comment.

“Can I ask you something?”

Simon grunted “Does it matter if I say no?”

“No. I’ll still ask, but your consent would be greatly appreciated.”

“Go on then.”

“What’s your rank?” He couldn’t see her face from where she kneeled beside him, but he rolled his eyes as he pictured her curious expression.

“Non’ of your business, kid.” He huffed as he tightened the pipe.

“Oh, c’mon…Why are you so grumpy today? Grumpier than usual, I mean.” Simon held her wrist firmly from under the sink, startling her. He felt her body stiffen under his touch, tense silence filling the room.

Slowly, softly, he pulled her wrist to the right position, so she finally held the light properly, and if his thumb had merely grazed her soft skin as it parted his, then it was purely accidental. Surely.

Simon felt awkward as he recalled the way her eyes had momentarily lingered on a glimpse of his abdomen when he had first laid on the floor, his shirt riding up as he lifted his arms to work, rolled up sleeves revealing numerous tattoos. A part of him – a part he longed to bury and dissociate from - tortuously replayed the glint in her innocent, curious eyes, the way her lips had slightly parted, and her cheeks and neck heated involuntarily.

As he finished the task, sliding from under the sink and sitting up against the cupboard, Simon avoided her gaze as he readjusted his black facemask.

“Lieutenant.” He conceded, killing the silence between the two.

She tried not to look too pleased about having her way, pocketing her phone and petting Rex distractedly as she considered the implications.

“Regular army?”

“SAS.”

“Wow…A seasoned soldier then.”

“A bit.” Simon groaned as he stood up, his joints cracking painfully.

“That’s the sound of victory right there.” She taunted and he shot her a glare.

“Jus’ turn the bloody thing on.”

He rolled his eyes as she stood upright, saluting him.

“Sir, yes sir!”

“I’m never tellin’ you anythin’ ever again.”

“Copy that, Lieutenant.” Riley giggled as she turned on the faucet. “Success!” She yelled excitedly as there were no more leaks.

Simon nodded in approval, satisfied with his work.

“I guess you’re good at laying pipe.” The young woman joked, winking playfully.

“Shut up, kid.” He turned around, heading slowly for her door so she wouldn’t notice his flushed ears. “Bugger off with your yank expressions.”

Despite being more cluttered, her tiny flat seemed much cozier than his, and he made sure to avoid stepping on her clean carpet as Milo tried to waddle between his feet.

“Leaving so soon?” She seemed disappointed by his quick retreat, but he didn’t dare face her soft gaze again.

Simon stopped by the doorway and stared at Riley’s baby picture on the thrifted entrance table. She was chunky and missing half her teeth, but the same dimpled smile brightened up the dull background. Right beside it stood a picture of her father, his medals humbly kept in a small glass display.

“I can’t stay.”

“Not even for a cup of tea?” He could almost feel how hard she struggled to blurt out the invitation, her tone laced with shyness.

“Maybe next time, love.”

A/N: I'm back! I'm so sorry I took forever to post another part, holidays were crazy! I hope you guys are enjoying it and feel free to drop any feedback or ask to be added to the tag list :) Thank you guys for reading <3

TAG LIST

@xaestheticalien @lillysfrogsandbogs

#ghost cod #ghostxreader #cod #ghost imagine #simon riley smut #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #ghost smut #neighbor!ghost #TGND #modernwarfare2

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curvykittyyssmutfics · 5 months

Text

Direct Instruction

"Slow down, Denji. You're gonna overstimulate her too quick. Slow licks. Yeah.. Just like that. Take your time, she ain't goin nowhere."

Aki speaks from across the room, patiently observing Denji struggle not to devour you. He slips his t-shirt off but leaves his sweats on. Head tilted, one hand resting on his raging dick as he leans back further into his chair. You don't know why he's still clothed; made you and Denji get undressed soon as this started.

"I don't want tooo. She tastes so fuckin sweet. Its like candy, Aki."

Denji's a fuckin brat but slows down anyway, giving you a chance to catch your breath. Even with him replacing his savage ass sucking with fast little kitten licks, you can't dig your toes out the mattress at the feeling.

"Yeah, I know she does. Don't mean you can do whatever you want." Aki tells him, squeezin his dick to the sight of you.

"Not the fuckin boss of me.." Denji mumbles into your pussy, making Aki's brow raise.

"That right? Want me to shut this shit down? Fuck y/n till she can't see straight while we leave you to play by yourself?"

That gets Denji back on track. Doesn't dare talk back. Only whines into your sensitive lil pus before getting back to his task.

"Thought so. Fuckin brat. Did you not promise me to work on followin directions? Gonna have to handle your bad ass later.. And you better make her cum real good too."

Theres no doubt about that. Tip of his tongue is dead on, swiping that spot on your slippery nub with an accuracy you wouldn't have thought a virgin could possess. He's only been between your legs for a couple minutes but apparently a few tips from Aki and suddenly he's a pro.

"Ahh, ahhh- Denji! Can't believe- didn't think- ohmygod!"

Aki chuckles as Denji moans around your clit, gripping around your thighs tight. The vibrations put an arch in your back that make Aki finally pull himself out to stroke; he's way too fuckin hard watchin you so drunk on pleasure.

"See what you're doin to her? She can barely take it. Use your fingers.. Yeah, like that. Bet shes squeezin round you.. Always bear hugs the fuck outta my dick when I first slide in."

"Mmmhmmm.."

A finger swipes at your opening, experimenting with the slip and slide of you. Denjis curious. Slowly lets his digit creep inside, suckin at you a little quicker. He's stares at your glistening lil puss, mesmerized by how you engulf him like his lips do to your clit.

"Good boy, Denji. Thats it.. Isn't he doin so well, sweet heart? Makin your lil puss flutter nice and tight, huh? Well, tell him then. Dont be rude.."

"Yeeees, Aki! Makin me feel so- ah, ah, ah!"

Denji can't take it anymore. Wants you to be a good boy, and to be the one that makes you cum but he so fuckin selfish. Needs something from you first: wants a real taste of your pretty lil chocolate pussy. So he abandons your clit, pulling you even tighter against his mouth so he can dig his tongue inside of you as far as it can go.

"Ohhhhmyyy- uh, uh, uh!"

It's too intense too fuckin quick. Your yank at his hair to pull him back but he doesn't budge, leaning into you body to trap you against the bed. He wiggles it inside of you erratically, no rythym at all. Just trying his damnest to reach your depths.

"Geez, Denji.. Should've known; you never fuckin listen."

But Aki doesn't stop him, quickening his strokes as he gets up to stand closer for a better view. He swipes at the precum streaming from his flushed tip. Reaching down with the same hand to pluck at your stiff nipples, smearing them sticky before rubbin slow teasing circles around your clit.

"Listen to that.. Hear that cute lil pussy singin for us? She's loud.. Even louder than your mouth. You so nasty, baby."

"Mmm mmm mmm."

Denji doesnt even hear Aki anymore, groaning in between your thighs like you just offered him a feast. Which is hella funny cause that's how he eats you. It's so damn sloppy, too messy. Your juices and his spit mixing to slide down your ass to the bed.

"Gonna cum Denji! Dont stop, please. Fuh-uuck.. More, Akiiii!"

Your pleas the prettiest symphony either of em has ever heard.

"Okay, y/n, okay. Let it out- ahhh.. Need to see you wet up his mouth, princess.Ohhh, gonna buss- don't stop Denji. Our girls gonna cum. Huh, y/n? Fuuuuck, you're so damn. beautiful."

He gives your twitchy lil button the attention you need, just not in the way expect. Stops rubbing to land 3 swift smacks against your clit. But your gone by the first, mindlessly squealing and cumming on Denji's mouth. Hips twisting uncontrollably but his hold on your thick thighs keeps you in place by. All the while, the fuckin brat makes multiple attempts to reach that special spot inside you with his devilish tongue.

"Mmmmfankoooohmmmm!"

Denji groans his appreciation when you shower his swollen mouth with your love. His tongue batters your walls, forcing moan after moan from your throat till your voice cracks.

What neither of you expect is for the scene to become to much for Aki. He pushes Denji to the side and bullies his cock between your spasming walls. He relishes how the end of your orgasm pushes him into his own.

"No fair, Aki! Wasn't done yet. Not your turn!" Denji's whining, swiftly standing to take Aki's place.

"Shut it."

He strokes his dick slowly, whimpering when he notices how Aki fucks you so good that when your lips part to cry nothin comes out. No breath in your lungs, mouth open wide in a silent scream as Aki leans over you and humps you quick and hard. You're left to grip at your covers, shapely brown legs wrapping around his waist; having no choice but to take what he gives you.

"Yeeees y/n! Bout to fill up my pussy, baby. You ready? Gonna take it all? Got so much cum for you, princess!"

You shake your head, hoping he takes some pity and pulls out.

"Nooo, Aki. Take it out. Don't want you too."

Your mumbled denial definitely lacks conviction.

"Too fuckin bad, baby- ohhhhshit! Can't stop now. Mmmm.. 'S too amazin y/n. Ahhh.."

Aki fills you and then some, thick streams pushing out everytime he fucks back into you. You're thankful his strokes turn shallow at the end of his nut, energy draining from his limbs as he lays over you heavily.

Denji watches as he jerks, envious of the intimacy between you two as Aki pecks kisses all over your face.

"A-aki, 'm close, so fuckin close.. Can I cum? Please, Aki, please?"

"No. Hands off." Voice commanding, he's back to his stoic demeanor; even though his hips still stutter slowly into yours.

Denji groans in disbelief, droppin his hand reluctantly. He can't believe Aki's bein this way. You came and he clearly just satisfied himself, shivers still running through him as he pulls his dick out of you. So then why can't Denji find some fuckin relief too?

But then Denji's pleasantly surprised when Aki spreads you wide, both watching as his nut pools too your entrance. You cover your eyes with your arm, embarrassed how they stare at his cum slowly oozing out and into the big puddle beneath you.

Aki looks at Denji, smiling brightly; cock still stiff as fuck.

"Kay, Denji. Put it in, your turn.."

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moumouton4 · 1 year

Note

Orochimaru, itachi and kakashi reacting to dry humping/thigh riding?

Ex: gn!reader is just so desperate for them they wait for them to undress

Dry Humping / Thigh Riding Hcs || Naruto characters x gn!reader

Including : Orochimaru, Itachi Uchiha, Kakashi Hatake

A/n : Muhahahahhahah I loved this ! Thank you for the ask 💚💙

Warnings : dry humping, tigh riding, praising, 18+ READERS ONLY and wrap it before you tap it

Masterlist ⚜

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Words count : 1378

Orochimaru :

He was in his office studying a technique scroll as usual when you entered his room

He immediately noticed your presence and smirked to himself

"Hey Lov-" but he cut you off knowing fully well that you hadn't been able to do it for a few days because of his work and that you had come to make him do something other than his work, and believe me he didn't mind, but it's not funny if it's too easy right ?

"Hello, to what do I owe this pleasure ? Do you feel itchy down there ?"

His words sent you blushing in the next centuries but you passed by and approached him like a predator to its prey

You got to straddle him but he tssk you by moving his legs

"Oh dear. Don't think too much of yourself you only need one leg for that"

And he lifted you with his strong arms and set you on his thight

"Now work for what you came for"

His piercing eyes froze you on the spot and as if he was tired of waiting he grabbed your hips tightly and started to move you on his thigh, you grabbed his shoulders to steady yourself but he pulled away

"You'll have to work alone to get it"

And so you dug your feet into the ground and continued at the speed he had established

His hands were still on you but the movement was coming from you alone

It wasn't long before you started to groan from the friction of your movements

Hearing that sweet sound coming from you he bounced his leg and you began to moan louder, you felt your legs give out as your core began to pulse against his thigh

"Please mmmh I'm begging you- agh let me hold you"

"Just like that. What a clever pet. Keep begging for my help I may listen if you keep going"

So you begged again

And he bounced his legs into your sensitive core once more, you felt something snap inside of you and you came all over his thigh

He smirked smugly when he felt something wet go through his pants

"Come on, you've done well, you've earned a reward" he said getting up with you in his arms

You had done well and now you were going to be rewarded because even though he didn't have that reputation, Orochimaru was going to be gentle with you, and you were going to experience this side of him once again and to your great pleasure

Itachi Uchiha :

Things in bed with Itachi were always either one or the other

Either he was super sweet, caring and at times disheveled after your intimate moments together

Or on the contrary it was rough, feral, leaving you both breathless and sweaty

But it was very rare, the proof was the fact that both your bodies were equally covered with love bites, scratches and hickeys

Today was a day off for the Akatsuki members and you both decided to use this time to do things that you couldn't do during the mission days

You decided to go and observe the wild animals of the area you were in while he found a quiet place, in a cave, where he could do one of his favorite things, drawing ( I don't know if it's canon or not, if you do, feel free to enlighten me)

However, while you were watching the foxes in the woods, you felt a heat in your lower stomach and decided that rather than torture yourself and wait for the evening, you would go back to your man and settle it together

But when you arrived he was in the middle of his drawing, and at first you didn't want to disturb him but how could you when he was right there under your nose looking so beautiful with his soft smooth hair hanging over his paper when he was drawing or his scrunched up nose and furrowed brows when he was concentrating

"Itachi-"

"Come on come over here, no need to say more I'm feeling it too"

You smiled at his understanding but it didn't surprise you, you were true soul mates

He got up thinking that you were going to go to the makeshift bedroom you had made for this two days and well just fuck, but to his surprise once you were there naked sitting on your futon you straddled him

He would wouldn't have mind if you had impaled yourself on his cock but you didn't do anything about of the sort

You started a rather languid movement with your hips on his making him buck against you

"What are you trying to do you clever thing ?" he asked with a smile forming on his lips and a laughing tone

"I just want it to last longer" you said as you gave his shaft another powerful thrust

"Gnnh speak for yourself" he said trying to restrict the movement of your hips a little but he knew very well that it would be useless, because he wanted this as much as you

And upon hearing your moans and contrary to his previous resolution he began to buck in sync with your thrust making you both moan and gasp into each other ears, his aroused voice sending shivers straight to your core

He bit your shoulder as your pelvis touched his cock in a rather rough way and he grabbed your ass to pull you closer to him, squeezing your cheeks in his hands

You ended up cumming on top of each other, his seed leaking on your lower belly and when you looked up at him again you saw him blushing profusely

"I'm sorry, I didn't think that-" even after all this time he was still apologizing for coming on to you, when for you it was the best proof of how good you were making him feel good

"There's no point in apologizing before things have really started, you know" you reply sassily

"Oooh so that's how it is" he said as he laid you down on the futon and hovered above your naked body

"Well let's get started with this then"

Kakashi Hatake :

It started during his Hokage period, when he didn't have enough time for you and you craved his touch

You sat on top of him and started to rub against his cock which soon became hard underneath you

He couldn't resist you and you knew fully well that it would end with you being fucked hard on his desk because he too longed for you

You spread your technique to when he was reading and you wanted to get him into your bed

100 % approved method

However, this time it didn't happen like that

He was sitting at the table looking for a cake recipe for your upcoming birthday

The first thing you did after taking off your shoes and washing your hands was walk over to him

Without thinking you ruffled his silver hair and straddled his lap, his hands directly shoot to your waist

He already knew what was coming

"Y/n can you let me finish my research please" he closed the page to keep it a surprise for you and went to another page about jutsu types

At first you wanted to leave him and listen to him but when you felt the bulge in his pants you couldn't help but roll your hips towards his, earning a small grunt as you did so

"Ughh Y/n I told you I'm looking for something" but contrary to what he said his hands started to squeeze your hips a little more and initiated a back and forth motion on his hardening cock

"It doesn't look like that from here" you said smirking as you felt a heat rise in your belly

He only huffed and increased the speed of the movement making you grip tighter on his broad shoulder

"Kakashi please" you suddenly said when you felt your core tingle

"I know baby I'm going to take care of you"

And with that he got up, your legs wrapping around his slim waist as he walked you both to your room

As he took off his clothes and prepared to take off his own he whispered to you

"I hope you will still be able to walk on your birthday"

(( Bro it was in 5 days what was he planning to do O.O ))

You gulped and he smirked at you, now naked as the day he was born before leaning and kissing you deeply as he hands started to work on your body

Oh gosh you were in for a ride but that's what you were looking for right :3c

A/n : I hope you guys liked it ! 🦀🍥 Again my requests are open 🏆🧩

Taglist : @foxxymunson, @cl0vr, @ilovemanypeople, @glossy1pearl, @jane57sstuff

472 notes · View notes

undercoverpena · 11 months

Text

a pile of cards

javier peña x f!reader | part four of the birthday bash

summary: it’s become a tradition. he presents you with a birthday card so you can collect his words, while he collects the expressions you share as you read them.

warnings/themes: javi through the seasons, narcos season two/three spoilers. cute, fluff. happy ending. wordcount: 3.8k

It began because he didn’t want to be empty-handed.

Murphy and Connie’s pink bag of tissue put him on edge as they stood outside his door. Fidgeting. Hurrying him along.

Normally, it’s not him being dragged somewhere, but rather he doing the dragging.

His arm never needing to be twisted to go to a bar. It, in more recent times, has become a hobby of his to find a way to bury the day—sometimes by liquor, other times by other means.

He’d lied with relative ease that he needed them to make a stop—needing smokes. Once inside, he grabbed the first card he felt was relevant and used the scratchy pen belonging to the man behind the counter to sign it.

Now, he’s outside the bar.

The one a bit further out than he usually goes. It’s calm, maybe too much. There are fairy lights swinging overhead the gathering in the outside area, the Colombian heat still laying its thick hands over those invited to your shindig—even as the sun tries to set.

The words, “It’ll be fun”, came back to him. That you’re new, working with the CIA. Connie periodically interjecting that you’re funny, nice.

Javi swallows the questions about how she knows, just sitting silently in the back like a child dragged somewhere he didn’t want to go.

Mainly, he had wanted to question how he’d met the new recruit, and he hadn’t. He didn’t. Swallowing it, letting its bitter taste scratch his throat as it sank down.

It’s rising now, clogging his oesophagus. Making it hard to force normalcy as he walks in rhythm with the Murphys to the cheers and shouts.

There’s laughter swirling, too. Music—all loud and chirpy—making him more aware of the gun in the back of his jeans, a nervous tinge to his twitching fingers.

Because Medellín parties haven’t fared well in the past. Not even recently.

His apprehension only settles as they reach the familiar faces—the ones who take one look at three of them and remain unsure what to do with their faces.

It dawns on him then that maybe he hasn’t made friends with the CIA lot well. Preferring his game of winding them up more than Murphy.

He’s about to comment on it, when Connie shrieks. A flash of colour bounds their way until arms wrap around both her and Murphy.

Him standing, leaning his weight more on one foot as he studies the exchange. Observing. Getting bits and pieces from Connie’s excited chatter. You look pretty, like your dress, you shouldn’t have, and then when he is all set to roll his eyes, he sees you.

Realising what Connie means.

All bright eyes. A smile that renders him momentarily useless. The thing in his throat vanished, replaced by dryness and confusion.

“Hey, birthday girl, need t’introduce you to someone,” Steve says, turning to him, “This is my partner, meet Javier Peña.”

He tries not to stare but finds he does all the same. His brain wracking itself trying to place you, work out where, if, he’s seen you before. Unsure how he hasn’t seen you before—this enigma of a person who is suddenly friends with so many around him.

Not even recognising you in passing.

And he’d remember. Dragging his eyes up and down the dress hugging your body, he’d definitely remember.

“Hi, Javier. Thank you for also coming? Drinks are not on me or the house, and if you order any food, I have to have some.”

Snorting, he wipes his jaw. “That right?”

Nodding, you take a sip of a beer you’re handed. “Birthday rules, I’m afraid.”

“I—um. Got you a card?”

He watches as your smile goes through a spectrum of types before it lands on a smirk. Finger and thumb taking it from his hand with a glint in your eye—one he can’t pick apart. Fucking CIA.

Javi also notices that Steve’s brows are so close to his fucking hairline, it makes the man looks ridiculous.

“Ha-Happy birthday.”

Placing the beer bottle down, you glance back at him before unpeeling the envelope. Sliding it out, staring at the very generic card.

Nothing else inside it except, what he hopes is your name, Happy Birthday and signed with Javier.

“You… you don’t know me, do you?”

He considers lying before he smirks. “Why’d you say that?”

“You spelt my name wrong,” you add, tongue in cheek as you grin. “But, I’ll forgive you if you buy me a drink.”

Steve snorts to the left of him, trying to disguise it behind his hand. “Be nice, Jav. She’s joining us in a few months. In the DEA.”

Shrugging, Javi snorts. “What you drinkin’ birthday girl?”

In a year, he’s learnt several things about you.

One that you have awful taste when it comes to dating. Two, you like your coffee black. Three, you do not smoke. Four, you care about him (even if you attempt to bury it under snark and sarcasm when it rears its head).

Yet somehow, on the anniversary of your two’s meeting, he finds you outside. Alone. A cigarette in between your fingers, burning, smoke ascending as you stare across the city.

“Y’know the party is in there, right?”

Smiling, you nod. Running a hand up and down your arm. Little bumps spread over exposed skin as you cast your eyes out to the city—the one sprinkled with lights that grow in numbers as the stars begin to twinkle.

“You spell my name right this year?”

Snorting, Javi steps out further onto the veranda—the palm fronds swinging, the scent of your Marlboro reaching his nostrils.

He doesn’t think when another breeze brushes in, his jacket in his hand—extended out. You turn your head, facing him, the smallest crease between your brows before he watches you hand him the smoke, and feels your fingers brush against his—a buzz, a shockwave—passing up his fingertips to his wrist and arm.

Then it’s gone.

His leather jacket around your shoulders, his fingers twitching—wishing to smoke what you handed him. His own very much resting on your hip (both his lighter and packet in the pocket resting on your frame).

“Anything else come with the card this year?”

Lips parted, an open-mouthed smirk sliding into one cheek, as he watched you tip back your drink. Eyes not leaving him. Stuck, fixed—waiting.

“You can smoke that, by the way.”

He notices it’s not stained with lipstick or gloss. Bringing it to his lips, taking a drag that instantly settles the fluttering in his stomach.

Holding your gaze a little longer. “You got something in mind?”

Shrugging, you’re the one to break the stare. Pulling his jacket more around your shoulders—all unreadable, a mystery.

“Just thought, it’s been a year—you might have treated me.”

He almost chokes and splutters. Almost.

A part of him wants to ask how much you’ve drank, because you’re being bold—bolder than normal. Also, because he very much wants to.

While Javi isn’t normally an asking-permission kind of man, he felt he needed to with you. Even if all he thinks about doing is treating you.

On his desk.

In the file room.

In his car after a long shift when the two of you walk out together.

Tonight, in your ridiculously tight clothes that do nothing to help him continue to be a gentleman.

Because you’re on his team, you do good work. You’re good for Murphy and especially good for him.

When you bring him coffee just because, when you’re talking to Murphy or translating for him, but your eyes slide to him. Sometimes when he finds himself in the same bar as you, your posture relaxed, eyes somewhat glazed as someone he doesn’t recognise has their arm around you.

You populate his mind, like seeds were buried in him at your first meeting, and have been blooming ever since.

In the year since he was first really introduced to you, he’s had many thoughts about you. Wondering what it would take to get your pupils to swallow the colour in your eyes, whether you’d say his name full of gasp or prettily. Whether you’re as beautiful in real life when you come, as you are when he dreams of you.

“But, guess I’m not your type.”

He snorts, tracing his bottom lip with his tongue as he assesses you. Unsure how you could be so wrong, when he knows you’re usually so right.

Your fingers pull his jacket around you, fiddling, a nervousness to each movement.

“What?”

Smirking, you lick your lips. “I hear things.”

“Good things?”

Snorting, he watches as you do that playful roll of your eyes. “Mixed bag, if I’m honest.”

Kicking off from the post, he finds your eyes don’t leave his. Not even as he begins to step closer, deciding to test his theory.

Flicking the smoke from his hand, Javi tries not to second-guess himself under your wider eyes, taking him in, swallowing him. He never gets nervous, never questions it.

Until you. It’s not until he’s so close to you the gap between you both is suspicious at best if someone were to come out and find you.

But, you don’t push him away. Don’t even begin to question any of it. You just keep looking from his eyes down to his lips.

The moment slowing— sound of the bar’s jeers growing more distant as the space around the two of you fades to nothing.

It’s almost poetic, if not for the reason the two of you are here. That the task at hand, outside of cards, drinks and birthdays, is to end the war on drugs

“Javier?”

He swallows, and then he moves. Gently. Softly, slowly sliding his mouth over yours as he feels you stiffen, before you relax. A purposeful movement of your lips against his, fingers finding a place on his neck and cheek.

You taste like sweetness, sin and something that leaves a lingering spice. A taste he’d love to chase—something he’d enjoy taking apart and having splayed across his sheets for hours.

He turns you, shifting you from your place until your spine meets a post—hand on your cheek, keeping you close, tongue sliding past your teeth as he swallows a whimper (that he hopes is his name).

His own groan vibrates through you, feeling it in his palm as it rests on your jaw.

A part of him wants to urge you into his truck, drive you back to his and make up for lost time. But the sound of a bottle breaking from somewhere inside pulls his lips from yours. A reminder, a bold one—all written in large font and the blackest of ink.

It’s your birthday. Your party.

You seem to know, smiling up at him—a glazed overcast of pleasure in your eyes.

“Thank you for coming, Javi.”

Brushing his knuckles up and down your cheek, his lips slide into a one-sided smile. “Wouldn’t have missed it.”

Another year, but it’s now a different kind of party.

Murphy excuses himself with slurred words, stumbling out of your room—telling him he’ll see him in theirs soon. Leaving just you, with just him.

Javi’s decided he hates Medellín.

He did before they were basically on lockdown in the building. Hands tied by paperwork and Messina’s form instructions.

“Let me guess…” you say, all sweet—with wine-filled eyes.

Javi pulls out a card from his back pocket, a smirk sliding over to one side of his face—watching as your eyes flick over his face before landing on the off-white envelope.

It happens quickly, which is why he doesn’t drag his eyes away.

The sparkle in your eye that travels to your lips—the soft, sweet smile which could light up a room if you ever let it show. Mostly, he watches for the sight of you sliding into yourself—all that fake confidence disappearing for a moment. He sees speckles of it when he removes the last piece of fabric from your skin, when you get shy, even if it’s just him.

Javi doesn’t remember other people’s birthdays. He doesn’t ever buy them coffee. He who doesn’t want to watch, study, or admire, the reaction such a gesture brings.

There are now even very few he likes being between the thighs of—not that he’ll admit it.

He does care about the people in his life, latches on—has a need to fix and save them. Caring for Murphy, Connie, Olivia, and then the more obvious ones, his Pop, those back home. Then there are the ones he cares for differently, Gabby, and the other women he tangles himself with.

And then, not fitting in any of those piles specifically, there’s you.

You who doesn’t need him to save you. You don’t need him to fix you. Perfectly content to do so yourself, to let him see all the fractured shards and pieces of yourself you don’t love.

It’s why he suspects it’s different with you.

Why it’s more than needing to make your back arch, toes curl and chant his name. Why on some level, he craves you handing him control—letting him in, pulling back the curtains that bit more to see the other parts of you that you’re more afraid to let anyone see.

“‘Happy birthday to the one who sometimes bruises her knees for me’. Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a poet?”

Smirking, he wipes his mouth with his thumb. “Poet, no. Good with my fingers, yes.”

You put the card on the table, leaning closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

And it’s more than stress relief—more than friends who fuck. Especially as he runs his hands down your arms, letting them slide down until they innocently rest on your waist—desperation thumping through his veins to kiss you.

At some stage, you had gone from tasting like a sin to tasting like happiness. A ray of something. A thing which warms inside of him, fanning out, dashing through his nerves when he’s close to you.

It’s sometimes why he goes to Gabby.

Not deserving of it—the way you look at him. The way you make him feel. How you see him, all of him, accepting of all the sides of him.

Plus, there's the realisation that in the year of whatever dance it is that the two of you are doing, you’ve become more of a necessity than a want.

He likes you being around, curled up close against him—in whatever form that is. He savours the moments when you don’t dress immediately, letting his fingers run up and down your arm. He enjoys the moments when you turn up, swallowing his greeting with your lips as you ask him to simply ruin you.

You don’t like feelings.

They’re about on par with nearly as much as you like your birthday, hating that people change and how things alter.

Normally, he’s happy to convince you otherwise, but in truth, he may hate this one of your birthdays too.

Not because he wishes he’d got the flowers or that your perfume is weaving its way into his senses. But rather, despite that, he wishes he’d picked you up something more, and he wishes your scent bled into his clothes, skin and soul.

Because Javi is pretty sure he’s just realised he likes you.

He wishes he could have kissed the smile on your face when you read the card, knowing he’ll always wonder what it tasted of.

He likes you more than just someone he rolls around in the sheets with. And a lot more than someone he spends the occasional evening with, curling up on the sofa and falling asleep.

And, deep down, he’s not sure what the fuck that even means.

It’s a curse being sent back.

Both because of him missing out on Escobar being taken down, because he’s in the States, while you’re in Colombia.

The words he should have said rested between the card and nib of his pen.

I like you. I’m sorry for the shit I did.

More apologies sitting on his chest. Like the fact he kept it all from you, only seeing the look in your eye when he was packing—filled in by someone else.

You hadn’t seemed mad. But rather wounded, hurt. A crease in your expression he wanted to smooth out with more than fingers and lips, but rather words.

Should have told me.

That was all you said. Four words. Letting them strike, pierce into his skin as you tapped your fingers on the door frame he shared with Murphy. And then, you made yourself scarce.

A part of him hoping, less secretly than he’d normally let show, that you’d appear at the airport. But you didn’t.

Now he was missing another thing.

A thing that wouldn’t be on his file, but had made a permanent mark on him all the same.

By the time he sees you with this particular card, your birthday will have long passed. Another thing he’s failed at.

Because he’s not even heard from you.

You still haven’t returned a single one of his calls.

Your anger being felt across countries at this point. But, maybe he’ll see you if you accept the job. Even if the dynamic is different, no Murphy alongside the two of you, he hopes you do.

Hope you take the chance to work together again—with him, an equal, even if the title is under him.

Because he’s not sure he can do it alone. Not sure he can take down Cali without you.

It’s late.

Midnight black paints the world as he slips the key into the door, turning the lock with more care than he usually ever shows.

It still sounds loud, as are his footsteps as he flicks on the light as he first enters. Bag dumped near scattered shoes, coat sliding from his frame as he checks the door is locked once, twice, thrice.

A habit he’s picked up, adopted as if it was his own.

Once it’s done, the checklist complete—by that, he's rid of keys, wallet and possessions. The thing he hasn't parted with in days becomes heavy in his pocket—the card.

The one he wrote days ago, and should have left here for you to open.

Even if he likes handing it to you. He likes how you collect his cards, and he collects your expressions.

He has minutes left to uphold this tradition, not wanting a repeat—another tally against his name.

Moving through the small place, he spots the cake on the kitchen counter. The one with a slide missing and a candle still on the top. His stomach lurching. Guilt blooming.

You understand. Your fingers on his cheek, arm around his waist as you tell him all the right words, brushing out any doubts and questions.

One day.

That’s what you always say.

Something he repeats as he swipes his fingers against the cream, tasting the sugar and sweetness. One day he’ll be here when you bake it, a person witness to the candle being lit and your wish being made.

Now, he just moves through the rest of his dark place. Pushing open the bedroom door.

Light cascading in from the hall light, spotting you immediately all splayed out across the bed. One of his shirts in your fingers, an old tee of his on your frame, and a peaceful look on your face that he’s been missing since the moment he'd needed to go to Cali.

He doesn’t want to wake you, but he also selfishly does.

Just so he can use the last minutes of your day to do your usual tradition. To be able to show you he didn’t forget, and let you read the message this time.

The words which have been mounting, mixing with the pressure which rests on his shoulders more and more as they grow closer to seeing the godfathers in cuffs.

Instead, he brushes your bare thigh, just to feel, to touch. Feeling how you calm him, eradicate the annoyances of his day—his week. Not even noticing that you’re shifting, twitching, until he hears:

“Javi?”

Sleep-filled and hazy, you’re blinking. Even in the limited light, you look beautiful. Something he tells you, earning him a crooked smile—likely not believing him, because you never do.

He’s quick, removing his hand (spotting the light frown near your brow) before he pulls the card from his back pocket, spotting the way the envelope has a deep line that has been born from where it’s been bent.

“¡Feliz cumpleaños, cariño!”

His words bury over his inward curse. A new part, fresh and more strong, making him wish he’d kept the card here so it looked more presentable. Even if he liked having it, his thumb brushing over his back pocket like he had a piece of you with him.

Smiling, you shift on the bed, dragging the sheet with you as you take the card.

He watches as you lick your lips, rubbing sleep from your eye before you unpeel it. Sliding it out.

Javi hears his pulse in his ear. Thumping. All loud, to the point he’s sure you must be able to hear. It's almost full of bass, like it’s trying to make a song—one he’d call after you, and play it all the time.

Because you’re the only one who makes him feel like this. His hands sliding up his trousers, wiping the growing sweat from his palm.

“You nervous, baby?”

He smirks, shifting his weight.

“I always like your cards.”

It lessens—the smirk. Instead, it spreads into a smile. One you always get him to wear, like a spell you’ve cast over him since you two first met all those years ago.

Clearing your throat, you look at the card, “To the one I love on your birthday,” you whisper.

Eyes lingering, re-reading, before your head snaps up.

It’s clear to him that it takes a second to register and connect.

“Wait, Javi, you lo…”

Shrugging, he tilts his head.

Your hands lower to your lap, eyes narrowed.

“Say it,” you add, more demand in your tone than he’d expected for someone asleep a few moments ago. “Please.”

“Bit late for the please, querida.”

Eyes narrowing, you close the card, hands falling to your lap. “Javi—“

“I love you. Te amo. I love y….”

Slowly, you move. Crawling towards him. Hand cupping his cheek, forehead pressing to his as his fingers find purpose on your thigh and hip.

“I love you too.”

He tightens his hold on you, feeling you sit more in his lap. Fingers brushing over his cheek, wiping the stress free from his face—removing the weight from his shoulders.

“And I’m glad you’re back,” you add.

“Hate leaving you.”

“One day you won’t, right?”

Nodding, he sees the flashes of things he wants when he blinks and dreams. When he lets himself plan and think ahead of right now.

“Good. Best present you could have given me.”

Snorting, he runs his nose against yours. “Haven’t given you anything yet.”

Smirking, you hover your lips over his. “I’ll be taking that in a second.”

“I do love you.”

“I believe you. But, I think you should show me,” you whisper, capturing his lips.

And he does. Even if the time has ticked past midnight.

an: thank you to everyone for all welcoming me into the pp community. also, apologies if there are errors, this one is phone-written as I've been celebrating :)

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blinkpen · 5 months

Text

nother lil life update!

appointment with housing admin lady got rescheduled to tuesday, but that's not too big a deal since that is the soonest day they could officially open up that apartment for me anyway, so if the answer was going to be yes, rescheduling when i get the yes to said day, doesn't delay the move-in, except by like, maybe, one more additional day of just. going back to get/move my stuff? so i am Unbothered and maintain the same level of cautious optimism leaned optimism as before

and again my stress level is way lower now knowing there is likely a light at the end of the tunnel (hell that a tunnel even EXISTS now) and mom is, at least for now, sobered by the intervention of other adults for whom going

"ummmmm but the very existence of trans identity is a personal attack against me and my beliefs bc i believe their existence is blasphemous they stole the rainbow from christians and desecrated the noah's arc story that's why i'm so mean to [not my fucking pronoun] whenever anything remotely close to the topic of gender comes up, asking nicely to so mach as -gag noises- humor they/them is a deliberate attack on me first, and forcing the queer agenda on me, so i get to attack back with full venom unloaded and vote in favor of making queer peoples' lives more difficult if not impossible, so like, i'm the victim actually? [not my fucking pronoun] needs to stop being so entitled and unholy and learn to deal with Different Opinions and stop Undermining me"

will not fucking fly and she can't make inflict Power Word: Guilt Trip to make them crumple away the way she does to me to instantly win and make the argument stop so she is now not pushing buttons and keeping her toxicity to herself methinks bc "ah fuck, an actually benevolent authority figure nobody in town would question is looking at how much my grown but wingclipped and disabled child's mental and now physical health has deteriorated to life-threateningly poor levels and looking in my direction while Knowing details i cannot possibly spin in my favor to outside observers; the only people who'd swoop in to take my side would only make me look worse by association, though i'll probably still refuse to think about The Implications of that, so i will Be Mask On now about it if nothing else"

like she got a stark fucking reminder i think of the fact she is a mean person who publicly boasts about being mean because she thinks its funny and also equates being smart with being cynical and therefore if you're aggressively cynical you're automatically smarter than whoever you are talking to or about, and is the kind of person who literally owns a "leftist tears" coffee mug, while claiming herself a Good christian just because she didn't kick me out for being queer like the Bad christians do, but like, she can still give me shit for being queer as much as she likes and if i stand up for myself i'm an ungrateful little bitch, those are her Vibes,

and being that way, makes it hard to defend yourself as totally innocent of any wrongdoing and victim-blame someone most people in town know, by contrast, as "the borderline mute Always a Hoodie n Headphones kid who spends a lot of time just wandering around town for the heck of it and seems a bit touched in the head/lost in their own little world, but is unfailingly friendly if you do try to talk to them for whatever reason, and will sincerely ask if they could be of any assistance to anyone who enters their cone of vision who seems to be in a pickle" once they start developing what seems like a wasting illness and an aura of hopelessness they didn't have before and finally show up at the hospital looking like they're about to drop dead from what is clearly several months of physiological stress and self-neglect and they don't even have their meds handy because you locked their disabled ass out in retaliation for leaving for one single night because you wouldn't stop screaming at them about how their gender thing is blasphemous and [checks notes] eavesdropping in on them while they shower to make sure not even their anguished crying and muttering to themself even in there isn't saying anything you don't like??? what the f-

even the crusty old farmer i know who i guess probably would go "not sure i like that but whatever" about transness otherwise enters "now what makes you think that makes [not my pronoun but i forgive bc its not done Maliciously] less of a person, what makes you think that's okay" mode over that

lol, said the frog, as a human hand scoops it out of the water just in time, and places it on a nice log where it may recover from the sting, while pointing to the sinking scorpion suggesting they go to therapy instead of stinging everyone around them and going "but i'm a scorpion so that means i am not responsible for my actions and nobody is allowed to expect better of me" lmao,

okay that went from a life update to me venting a bit? but. i eared that i think, it helps keep my grounded, hoenstly.

anyway we gotta send my doc a fruit basket or somn

#cw for discussions of transphobia and all that

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poppy-metal · 2 years

Note

Camp counselor Nancy is very by-the-book, while you and Robin are a lot more relaxed. Hey, maybe if you break enough rules, counselor Nancy will punish you for being bad

me writing a whole thing.

The water is warm and nice, you think you’re happy to have fucked off and left the kids to nancy. Its nighttime anyway, they’ll all be in bed soon. You just wanted a moment to yourself, without that stuck up priss rolling her eyes at you.

“What’re you doing?” a voice calls, and you groan from where you'd been floating on your back. Nancy wheeler is standing at the edge of the dock, in a a jean skirt and a pink blouse, frowning out at you with her pouty glossed lips. Her stupid little clipboard is still in her hand.

You tread water to her until youre at the edge of the dock, gripping it and peering up at her with a grin, “having fun, wheeler. Heard of it?"

You see a flush rise to her cheeks, her blue eyes narrowing down, “you’re naked.”

Something about embarrassing nancy wheeler thrills you, you use the grip you have on the ledge to pull yourself up a little, so the tops of your breasts break the surface of the water, nipples hardening in the night air. You see her eyebrow twitch. “Excellent observation, nance. Its called skinny dipping.” you suddenly grab her ankle, “you should try it.”

She stiffens, expression bleeding all expression and going cold and impassive, “dont be ridiculous” she snaps, trying to shake your grip off her. “I just came to look for you because you were absent during dinner.”

You feel your heart skip a beat, “awe. Did you miss me that bad?”

She rolls her eyes, “as if. It was your turn to do cleanup. Im assuming this little side quest was purposeful?” she drags her eyes across the lake in a bored manner.

“Ill clean when im done.” you say, “m’not even pruned up yet.”

She finally succeeds in shaking your hand off her ankle, stepping back. Her lips curl, “typical,” she mutters and you frown.

“What?”

She shakes her head, “its just so you to push aside your responsibilities. I dont even know why you’re here, you dont take anything serious. You’re a joke.”

Her words hit their mark. You’d just wanted to have some fun and she’d gone and ruined it. Youd show her a joke. You wrap your hand around her ankle again, small and delicate just like the rest of her, “wanna see something really funny?”

Her eyes flare, “dont. Dont you da-”

Her words are cut off by you pulling her into the water. Her clipboard clatters onto the deck as she fumbles and topples into the lake. You’re already laughing by the time she pops back up, her perfectly styled hair now a wet mess atop her head, though it annoys you that shes still so pretty.

Her glare could melt Antarctica, you think. Or create a second ice age, with how frosty it is.

“You’re such a bitch.”

Your eyes widen, “oh my god. She curses!”

You’re rewarded with a splash of water in your face, she doesnt look amused. Little nancy wheeler is fuming. “What is wrong with you?”

You sober. “Nothing.”

She shakes her head, little flecks of water flying. “No, i mean it. You’ve had it out for me since the moment summer started. I want to know why? What did i do to you?”

You tread water a little bit back from her, looking off to the side, shrugging, “dunno, really. You’re just….”

“Im just.” she grits, “what.”

You fling your arms up, “you're just such a goddamn priss! With that godforsaken clipboard and your rules and commands, s’like you don’t even know what fun is. Wouldnt know it if it sat on your face.”

She looks at you for awhile. Shes unfairly pretty. “Alot of people think that,” she finally says, almost softly. She sighs, “its so fucking annoying.”

You blink. Woah. the second curse of the night.

You blink as she wades closer, closing the distance between you a little, “i like rules.” she says, “they’re there for a reason. To keep the children safe. They arent a joke. And despite what you might think, i know how to have fun. Just because its not with you doesnt give you the right to pass judgment onto me.”

“You? Know how to have fun? Are pigs flying?” you cup a hand over your eyes as you peer up into the starry sky, pretending to look. “Where?”

Nancy is rolling her eyes again, turning back to the deck to haul herself up.

You follow her. The mood had been ruined anyway.

Water drips from her body and her blouse sticks to her body. You can see her nipples poke through the fabric and she frowns, sighing before shes taking the wet shirt off, and then you’re really gawking, as she shimmies out of her jean skirt.

Shes wearing abhorrently girly underwear. Your cunt pulses anyway as she lays the skirt and blouse out on the deck. She glances at you, “where are your clothes?”

You blankly motion in the direction of a pile of your clothes at the bank of the lake. She goes to get them and you gape as she slips into your shirt and steps into your shorts.

“Um.”

She squeezes water out of her hair, “you pulled me into the lake against my will. If you dont want me to report you, you’ll shut up.”

“W-what amd i supposed to wear.”

She points to her still wet clothes, “those. When they dry.”

“Im supposed to stay here until then?!”

She shrugs. “Not my problem”

“Nancy. Come on-”

“No” she takes a step towards you, “im done. Do you understand? This stupid little rivalry you want with me ends here and now. Im not engaging with you. Its stupid and juvenile and beneath me. You’re beneath me. If you try to cross me again, ill make you regret it. You can try to underestimate that, but i promise ill make you. Fucking. Cry. dont test me.”

You dont know why you do it. If you’re being honest, you’ve been turned on since she came up to the dock. Youve had a thing for her for awhile. You wonder what it says about you that this is turning you on so much.

Either way, you’re both surprised when you lean in and kiss her.

You feel her stiffen, feel her hands rise as if to push you away and you close your eyes, prepared to be slapped.

She kisses you back.

Her small hands grip your wet hips and shes backing you up a few steps until your back is pressed against one of the beams on the dock. You gasp against her mouth when shes shoving a leg between your naked thighs, right up against your little pussy.

She pulls back. Her eyes look like they’re on fire. Or on ice.

“So thats why.” she says, almost to herself.

You blink a little dumbly, still stuck on the fact that shes just cornered you and shoved her thigh between your legs. Its still there. “Huh?”

“You’re pulling my pigtails because you have a crush.” she deadpans. She looks decidedly unimpressed. “Thats such a guy thing to do,” her knee dig up, right against your cunt, “is that you? Are you an immature little boy?”

You shake your head dumbly, “no”

“No?” she parrots, grinding the ridge of her knee into you. Your legs are shaking. “No i guess not. That cunt is unmistakable.”

She pulls back a little to look between your bodies, and you gasp when one of her fingers come down to pull back the hood covering your clit, pressing the pad of her thumb on the engorged center of you, “guess you’re more like a misbehaved puppy.”

“Nancy” you whine, hips bucking.”

“Nancy now? Where’s priss? Princess? Stuck up bitch?” with every word she rolls your clit around with her thumb, rocking you back and forth on her denim clad knee. Your denim shes wearing. “Im gonna tell you a secret”

She lets you hump her leg for a bit, the lips of your cunt spread lewdly as you grind down for some kind of friction or relief. Her hand reaches up to wind in your wet hair, yanks your head back so your neck is exposed to her mouth. She nips and sucks at the flesh as you gasp and mewl for her.

She licks the mark she left on your throat, “id know a good time if it sat on my face. Id tongue fuck that good time sooooo nice. Give her my fingers. Let her ride me. Cause this princess has a cock she likes to use. Likes when cute little girls like you spread your little cunt for me to fuck.”

As soon as she was on you, shes off, the pressure on your cunt gone as she backs up.

She smiles primly.

“Too bad you’re on my bad side now. We could’ve had so much fun.” she spins around, waving as she skips away, “see you!’

#ask #wow #nancy wheeler x reader #nancy wheeler smut #nanch wheeler fanfic #stranger things x reader

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