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#am i talking about plant babies?
ponderingpebbles · 6 months
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My favorite part of keeping plants is trading plant cuttings and babies like pokemon cards
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ourhouseishaunted · 11 months
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my brain for the past like 2 weeks
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boxwinebaddie · 5 months
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Hello my dear I just wanna say that I am NEVER getting over how awkward and endearing Raven was on the Hate like (Marj voice) BLESS HIS LITTLE HEART our sweet boy oh my god and him meeting Curb was so incredibly perfect just UGH I love him sm
hello, my beautiful computer wife!
listen!!! LIST!!! EN!!! when i said Try Not To Fall in Love with Raven Challenge: Level Impossible i meant that!!! he is SOOOO CUTE
and i am not sure who read it ( or who wants to lmao ) regardless you will all be spared my screaming and i'll drop it under a readmore <333
( edit: i wrote so much i had a lot to say about hate!raven the loml )
i...could talk about offstage!raven for several days, months and hours.
like he is made entirely of boyfriend material and its 100% upcycled.
tbh, the concept of the hate is deeply funny to me because when it happened kyle was so stressed out like uGh!!! this is going to be the WORST THING THAT EVER HAPPENED TO ME like??? Why Me dude?!! ike broflovski, you are So lucky i love you enough to go on this hate with the DEVIL rn...please kill me with so many hammers. :////
and ravenstan was just like aaAAAAA EEEEE KENKENKEN IM GOIN ONA DATEDATEDATEEEEEE<333!! EEE!! :3 laughing smiling kicking his feet oh my goddddd like kyle dreaded it all week and stan was so nervous and Excited. i just Know he gushed all abt kyle to that old farmers market man for like 45 minutes and held up the line <333
also???? not kyle being like wOW I CANT BELIEVE THIS STUPID CELEBRITY ASSHOLE STOOD ME UP WHAT THE FUCK!!! DIE!!!
and it was deadass raven ripping his room up trying to find his airpods like AAAA WHAT THE FUC and just being like fuck im fuckin Late gotta gogogo!!! and just grabbed his stupid gaming headset and did like two shots out the door smh ( stan chronic late disorder smh )
got there almost crashed into a fire hydrant and freaked out, couldn't find parking, paced outside the door for like five minutes like idk idk i cant do this im gonna turn around and then being like n no i can do this u can do this!! ahdklhdsa called kenny bc he was having a stannic attack and almost threw up in the hallway from stress oh my god help
he is.....the luv of my life, truly. i would take multiple bullets 4 staven.
also i know this chapter was kind of chaotic and seems out of left field, but its REALLY important to the plot progression and the char development because up until this point, we have only seen ravenstan in public settings/around lots of people, lots of eyes on him and specifically through the jaded eyes of jersey kyle and his narrow perception of ravens character as a blown up celebrity.
BUT SURPRISE HES ACTUALLY JUST CUTE AND PATHETIC LIKE SKHDKHKSLD he is soft he is an Angel everything makes him cry its so unserious HE LITERALLY LOVES PLANTS SO MUCH i know he was rambling abt suzie and that whole time he was ohhhh god oh god shut up shut up stop talking about that u fucking Idiot!!! AAA
when he said ~scientific~ w/ the finger tip wiggle and his eyes sparkling w excitement i was crying baby!!! at least try and b cool!
meanwhile kyle was just like...uh google...HELP! what do you do when you are on a #hate with your arch nemesis, but he starts being really nice to you??? and looks like a small puppy with very big eyes when he smiles...and gets you a really dorky plant that reminds him of you...and you kind of want to throw up bc hes kInDA cuT e? EWEW
its the way kyle literally had no interest in him when he thought he was an arrogant confident celebrity d-hole but the SECOND he starts displaying stanley marsh boyfail behavior hes like ohhhhh my god....wait what the actual fuck why is he so LAME???? why did he make his finger into a gun and then shoot me and then almost fall and then say sorry and wink ...thats so...why is he kindaaaa...why do i kind of want to......whats hAPPENING TO ME??? HELP???? kILL ME
he got reverse rizzed fml kyle likes em pretty and pierced up and pouty and poetic and little pathetic what can i say...i respect that
okay, i got distracted this got really long??? BUT I WAS WAITING TO WRITE THAT PART WITH CURB BC ITS GONNA BE SOOOO ;-; <3
the way kyle was like haha Stupid hes gonna bite ur hand off!!! and curb was just like immediately in LUV with him and stan was holding him like a baby and singing to him in spanish and curb licked his nose... jersey was FKN shook like IS THERE ANYTHING U CANT DO
also idk if you guys caught curb in rm5 rub his face near the phone just listening to raven talk but...its serious CURB! LOVES! RAVEN!
that man is srsly just a mega fione bad at everything boy rockstar disney prince its his spanish speaking soft boy singer boy siren song... like he sings and all the little plants and animals swoon
...its also working on kyle...allegedly...hes fighting the raven bias dawn spawn allegaytions so hard...alexa play i wont say im in love
live laugh the ravesey hate and raven trying to b cool but accidentally actin a fool bc hes nErvoUs and it...working on kyle...too well tbh.
ANYWAYS I LOVE YOU, RILEY! THANK YOU FOR READING RM6 IN ALL ITS CHAOS AND CRINGE AND SUPPORTING THE DORKY AWKWARD BOY RAVEN AGENDA...HE IS...DOING HIS BEST...RIP.
-uncle nina, boyfail father
#thank you for sending this i love you#i am still feeling not good things about chapter six i feel like it was weird or weirdly recieved i think im just anxious#BUT YALL HAD TO SEE RAVEN NOT DOING HOT BOY THINGS AND ACCIDENTALLY DOING HOTTER BOY THINGS#OR SO SAYS JERSEY KYLE GETTING#RIZZEDBYRAVEN#TALKING ABOUT LOVE AND PLANTS AND RAMBLIN#UR HONOR THEYRE NOT ON A HATE ITS A LOVE#they dont know that but i know that#im sorry if you were attached to Cool Boy Raven#u can call him whatever u want but at the end of the day he is just Boy Fail Stan in tiny sexc skin tight lead singer boy pants#and hes really nervous he really wants it to go well he thinks its going so bad i love him oh my god hes like oh god he hates SUZY OH NO#he HATES me & kyle was like shut up and put my new stupid plant on the windowsill flower boy and was like sIR YES SIR#amazing...style world domination...pathetic puppy dog plant dad anxious punk rock angel ravenstan world domination#but literally bc i have never seen someone exhibit more bottom behavior...im sorry its just true im right argue w ur mom#also evil dictator jersey kyle developing a heart and sweating and the ice around his cold dead heart melting domination BUT! LITREALLY!#BC I LOVE BORED DETACHED ONE NIGHT STAND MANEATING THROWS BOYS OUT ON THE STREET AFTER HE SLEEPS W/ YOU TY U! NEXT! SEXY SUCCUBUS KYLE#legend and icon! take em out like trash new jersey!#but raven is is our eco king so...reduce reuse recycle baby ;)#ANYWAYS! BYE! IM DONE NOW SOMEONE TAKE THE KEYBOARD AWAY FROM ME
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lunod · 11 months
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what's the plant 👀
Thaumatophyllum bipinnatifidum! Formerly known as philodendron selloum/bipinnatifidum. Looks like this:
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Mine is just a little baby seedling that I'm picking up next week. I got really excited though so I already added the new baby to my plants spreadsheet.
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tojisun · 3 months
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!! female reader; dirty talking; breeding kink; slight overstim play; unrealistic sex x’>
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thinking about how simon’s the type to keep saying filth to you when he’s balls deep. how, in the throes of his pleasure, so pussy-drunk, simon begins to wax poetry about the way you make him feel.
he’s got you folded in a mating press, his lips ghosting wet kisses along your trembling legs. “god, baby,” simon murmurs, his voice a drunken slur. “i need t’wife you up, i swear.” he punctuates this with a thrust, before his fingers pinch your clit.
you choke at the feeling, your legs kicking from where they’re slung over simon’s shoulders. your head thrashes against the pillow, not knowing how else to tether yourself from the stinging pleasure, your mouth falling open uselessly as garbled moans spill out.
“oh this,” he says, distracted by your reaction. “cute little thing, isn’t it?” he looks at your pussy almost with a starry-eyed gaze.
jesus-
“shu-ut up, si!” your voice breaks, weakened from the moans, but simon’s already looking too far gone, his eyes blown wide and his face flushed because of his pleasure.
“y’just squeezed me tighter, baby.” simon rips his eyes from your cunt to look at you with a sort of giddy trance. “y’like it when i play with–” he circles his thumb on your clit, making you squeal. “this? yeah? oh, lovie, you’re gushing.”
he pulls out, torturously slow, teasing, then he’s slamming back in. your ears ring at the resounding wet slide, his pelvis meeting your own with a goddamn squelch, and you scream, clawing at his back at the sharp pleasure that razes through you.
“going t’stuff you w’my cum everyday, baby.” simon giggles. “going t’make you so full.”
he nuzzles his nose on the side of your tear-soaked cheek. “y’want that, yeah? want t’feel sore because of how much cum’s stored in you? want t’be fucked until it takes?”
what-
“si! si!” you cry, mushy mind trying to understand what he’s insinuating. “wha- wh-…?”
“oh but you’d be so gorgeous, baby,” simon groans, his hand leaving your oversensitive clit to hike up along your body, dancing past your groin to plant just below your belly button. simon nuzzles close again, tracing the shell of your ear with his lips, then, “you’d be so pretty carrying my kids.”
those words make your body lock up, something in your mind just shifting right, and then you’re cumming, squirting all over simon’s cock and spraying on his legs.
simon outright moans, pulling back just enough to slot his lips against yours. you couldn’t even kiss him back, still so busy cumming, all cross-eyed at the intensity of your orgasm. it doesn’t matter to him, anyway, not when simon begins pistoning harder. faster. rougher.
every drag of his cock back in your pussy pushes more gushing squirt from you, and simon rumbles with a pleased groan, looking so blissed out as he leaves open-mouthed kisses along your jaw. you dig your nails at his back but simon doesn’t even register the prickling pain, too busy chasing his own orgasm through your cunt.
“s’right,” he coos. “nothin’ else could make me cum, baby. nothin’ else but y’r pretty pussy. y’r tight pussy. god, it’s such a delicious pussy, baby, how am i so lucky to have you, huh?” his words mingle with the thwap-thwap-thwap sounds of his body slamming against your own. it makes you dizzy with pleasure, ragged rasps of breath is all that is passing through your parted lips.
simon croons. “how’d i chance luck and end up w’such a delight?” another wet sound from your pussy rings amidst his words. “mmm, hear that baby?”
you nod, you think. or you moan a reply. honestly, you don’t even know, not with how dizzy you are at the peaking pleasure because there’s no way you’re cumming again–
“that’s the sounds that a happy wife makes,” simon purrs, replying to his own question, and the weight of his words washes over you like the pleasure that’s racing across your synapses. “that’s the sound that someone makes when they want to be bred.”
“simo-nnnnn!” you scream, the sound guttural and ragged, and your eyes can no longer see anything, and your ears are ringing, and- and–
simon laughs, the sound curling into something so, so fond. “y’r so pretty when y’cum, baby.” he kisses your wet cheek. “one more? f’r me?”
fuck-
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queers-gambit · 8 months
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Curiosity Killed The Cat
prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.
pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Marvel
word count: 5.1k+
note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.
warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.
browse the Clingy Baby collection masterlist here
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Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.
You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.
Rooted.
But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.
You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.
This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.
You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?
Curiosity, indeed.
Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...
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"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."
"And the jalapeños?"
"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."
"Cream cheese?"
"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."
Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."
"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"
"Lemme pick you up."
"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."
He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"
"Let's do a white tonight, please."
"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "
"Hang on," you pleaded.
"What's wrong?"
"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"
"We haven't been to Paris in months."
You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."
Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."
"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"
"So, is that a yes?"
"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"
"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"
"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."
"I'll bring the camera."
"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"
"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.
"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"
"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"
There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "
"It's 15," he growled.
"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."
"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "
"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."
"Don't hurt her - "
"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."
The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.
He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).
For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.
"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."
You sniffled, unable to respond.
He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"
You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."
The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."
"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."
"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."
You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.
At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.
"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.
"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"
You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.
Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.
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And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.
You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.
Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.
Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.
So now... To hear this... You were devastated.
You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.
You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.
"She's different, man."
"How so?" Sam wondered.
"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "
"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.
"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."
"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.
"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."
"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."
"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"
Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"
"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."
"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."
"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.
"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."
"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."
"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"
There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.
So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."
"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"
You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.
"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.
"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"
"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."
"Peach - "
"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.
"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"
"Sure."
Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"
You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.
Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. Got shopping done on Amazon. Browsed through Target's online selection. Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade. Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.
Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?
You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"
"Out with Nat," you eased.
He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"
"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."
His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."
"I know."
"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.
And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.
When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."
The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.
You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.
Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.
Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.
Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.
After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.
"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.
"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.
"What?"
"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"
"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."
"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"
"About...?"
"Me."
"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."
Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.
"Huh?" Nat wondered.
"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.
"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."
Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"
"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"
"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."
"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.
"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."
"Isn't that what you wanted?"
"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."
"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."
"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."
"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."
"They can take it."
"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"
"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.
"Bucky," she growled.
He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."
"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."
"Why lie, then?"
"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."
"No shit."
"Well, did you get into a fight?"
"No."
"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"
He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."
"You had to do something."
"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."
Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"
Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."
"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."
"I didn't mean - "
"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."
Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"
"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"
Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.
The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.
Clingy...
You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...
His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.
When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"
You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.
He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."
"I'm here."
"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.
"What's wrong?"
"You. You're what's wrong."
"What the fuck does that - "
"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."
You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.
"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "
"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."
"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."
You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "
"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."
You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."
"It's not."
"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."
He nodded, "What else can I do?"
"Nothing - "
"Peach."
You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"
"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.
"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"
"All right... Sure, okay..."
"And face masks."
He sighed, "Okay."
"And mani-pedis."
"Baby."
"You said you were making it up to me, right?"
He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."
"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."
"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."
"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."
"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."
You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.
Felt okay.
Appeared okay.
And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.
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requesting rules and masterlist
Marvel masterlist
Clingy Baby collection masterlist
8K notes · View notes
lsuyia · 3 months
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❝𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑❞
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A/N - ngl i literally pulled this out my ass at 11 am since i rlly needed to start posting on my tumblr more, pls request fic ideas!
relationship is established! also fem!reader
MDNI
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ᡣ𐭩
satoru gojo, just seems like the the type of person to randomly be scrolling on instgram,— barely finding interesting and find a video of a baby.
The baby could be doing anything, laughing, giggling, saying its first word,—and like fucking magic will automatically text you about it, spam calling you
it all just started as one simple cute video that satoru saw, making his baby fever go through the roof.
One fucking video, was all it took.
You would get home from work, wanting to take a nap, oh but here he comes, bending you over on the kitchen table, making your legs tremble, just so he can try to get you pregnant.
“Spread wide open f’me, yeah?”
You started to wonder what was going on when one day he magically appeared when you were showering saying he wanted to shower with his beautiful girlfriend, which you knew he was lying straight through his teeth.
Few minutes later, he has you pinned against the shower wall, going at an ungodly pace bruising your cervix in the process with every thrust as he smiles seeing breathless, flustered face.— which some how always seemed to keep him hard.
“Just a little longer for daddy?”
You automatically knew when he said that something was going on, and you were going to get to the bottom of it.
For days straight, satoru would always have you bend over, legs up, on the floor,on the wall, in the bed, in the car fucking you dumb until he finally came inside you.
Everytime.
At this point you were getting concerned that you might actually get you pregnant.
So, you decided to finally open up about the whole dilemma, you couldnt keep going on like this.
“toru baby?” You called out to him after minutes thinking about if you should actually do this. “coming.” He said back as his light footsteps treaded across the living room before finally appearing in-front of you before he sat beside you. “yeah honeybun?” He softly spoke to you while his hand traveled to your thighs, squeezing at the plush.
“I wanted to talk to you about something..” You trailed off at the end, which in gojo’s eyes sounded pretty serious to him. His head immediately turned to look at you looking at you concerned. “Do you think we could like…—calm down with the sex?”
You spoke softly to him not even looking at him out of pure embarrassment of the situation. The silence was so loud after you spoke to him,— until he finally casually spoke back to you“yea baby thats fine, if you wanted to calm down you could’ve told me earlier.” He said with a shrug seeming like the situation didn’t affect him at all.
Oh but, it very much did.
In his eyes, It sounded like you didnt want to have a child with him, which drove him absolutely insane.
The constant sex ban worked for a full month until he was back at it again.
You couldn’t even take off your shoes without him touching your nipples through your clothes, just to turn you on and get you into bed with him.
One thing lead to another and you and him getting into a heated argument in your shared bedroom.
“Gojo, what is up with you? I cant even walk into the fucking house without you trying to finger me!” you exclaimed practically yelling at him. Your attitude towards him at him caught in a dumb daze. You were starting to get tired of the constant sex every day.
He was yelling back before but now he was silent as he stood in front of you not speaking, you rarely ever called him last name which let him know you were pretty serious about the whole ordeal.
He couldn’t keep his need for you under wraps for any longer.
“Honeybun, I want a baby.” He said to you, as his light blue eyes locked with yours.
You were honestly shocked at him, he wanted a baby? The only word you could even speak was
“what?”
“honeybun, I want a baby with you.” He leaned towards you cupping your face as he planted tender kisses.
“I want to see you and me mixed together, I wanna see both of us go through mother and fatherhood, I want to see all of you honeybun.” He said grabbing your hands interlocking them with his. He was really genuine and heartfelt about the whole baby fever nonsense.
You were still in slight shock, but you had a small thought about the idea of you and satoru’s kid still fresh in your mind at the moment
Needless to say, you finally found out why gojo was acting crazy all those months ago
You sighed watching television with your pregnant belly while gojo had his arms wrapped around you and his head lightly resting on your stomach, careful not to hurt you at any point
“Their going to be so cute.”
he hummed giving your tummy a tender kiss.
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2K notes · View notes
gimmeurtmi · 6 months
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groupie — 2min
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pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader x lee minho
tags: established relationship, polyamory, rock band!au, smut!!!🔞
warnings: swearing, throuple, mxm, sex in a public setting (but they're alone), possessive!minho, he's so jealous, use of “bunny”, “bubs”, "baby," and "babe", they jokingly refer to reader as their groupie many times, talking about putting out to get famous (no one does it ofc), facials, lmk if i forgot
inspo: 2min in the rockstar teaser pics.
notes: i can't not get carried away when it's 2min. this was meant to be just smut but i guess it kinda has a bit of plot and also it was not meant to be this long. it's also filthy as shit.
{ wc: 4126}
You leaned against the old, rusty sink, waiting patiently for your boyfriends to finish whatever they were getting up to. 
There was a constant bloop noise, as other than rusty the sink was also leaking despite your attempts to fully shut the stream off. 
As soon as they finished their set you rushed towards the most secluded place you could find. There was a toilet at the very edge of the backstage area of the venue with a sign that read “out of order”. The sign itself was so old that the marker used to write the words out was already starting to fade, a light layer of dust turning the white page to an unattractive beige. 
Minho texted you just before he walked on stage, saying that he needed you. You told him where you were as soon as you settled. 
After a few minutes the door opened slowly, creaking loudly and echoing horribly against the stained walls of the toilets. 
“Why here?” Minho asked, planting a small kiss in your hair. 
“Having sex in your dressing room stresses me out,” you rolled your eyes, “I can’t have fun when I keep feeling like we’re gonna get caught.”
“So you’d rather have sex in what is clearly a drug den?” He chuckled, wiping his hands against the counter where a few white specks were scattered around. 
“No one’s gonna come in here though,” you reasoned. 
“Unless you wanna wait until we go home?” Minho asked softly, his eyes sparkling at you. 
You shook your head quickly. “When is Seungmin gonna finish, do you think?” 
“Probably not for another hour,” Minho clicked his tongue, “some guys came backstage and started kissing his ass.”
You chuckled, “shouldn’t we go save him then?” 
“No,” Minho shook his head, “they’re producers.”
You let out a small gasp, eyebrows high. “So why aren’t we there making him look better?” 
“Because I’ve been hard through the whole set and I need your help,” he whined, snaking his hands around your waist. 
You giggled at him before planting a comforting kiss to his forehead. “You did really well either way, didn’t even notice it.”
It was true, Minho did a wonderful job during their performance and luckily for him, being a drummer meant no one in the audience could see the problem he evidently had. 
“I fucking hate him, by the way,” Minho mumbled as he buried his head into your neck. He planted small kisses on your skin, rubbing his palms around your back. 
“Let me guess,” you sighed, “he left you high and dry seconds before you guys went on stage?” 
“How did you know?” 
“He looked especially smug,” you giggled, smiling widely at Minho’s annoyed expression. 
“Help me,” Minho whined again. 
“Why am I being made to clean his mess?” You exclaimed with a chuckle. 
“Because,” he whined. You shook your head, chuckling at his antics. 
It’s not that you didn’t want to help him with his problem, it was the only thing you were thinking about as you watched their performance. Minho was incredibly attractive when he played his drums, even more so with his new black hair—long enough to cover his eyes. The black eyeshadow you helped him put on before the show looked beautiful behind his bangs. 
Now his eye makeup was slightly smudged from the sweat and the warm bright lights he was under. It made his eyes look darker somehow, more dangerous, even if he was whining at you like the sensitive person he actually is. But only you and Seungmin knew that side of him—everyone else thought he was another asshole wanna be rockstar like so many others were. 
Minho leaned in to press his lips against yours softly, rubbing his thumb against your cheek lightly. “You’re staring, bunny.” 
“Just admiring how well I did your makeup tonight,” you say, voice too thin to be at all believable. 
“You wanna suck my dick so bad,” Minho chuckled, leaning in to kiss you with far more intent than before. 
You didn’t answer, because that would mean pulling away from the kiss—and that’s the last thing you wanted. You grabbed onto his oversized shirt, pulling him even closer to you as your tongues clashed noisily. 
He squeezed your hips tightly before he backed you up into the counter quickly, the pair of you stumbling as you climbed onto the solid surface with Minho’s blind help. 
He didn’t pull away from the kiss once, sucking and nibbling at your bottom lip while his hand buried in your hair. 
He didn’t waste any more time, bringing his hand between your bodies to softly rub against your clothed core. You mirrored his actions, rubbing him through his dark jeans. 
In pure desperation, the pair of you started moaning loudly at the rush of pleasure. 
As soon as you started playing with his zipper Minho pulled away, enough to fish for the condom he shoved into his pocket earlier that day. He asked you to hold onto it as he quickly shoved his jeans down—a small clatter noise following his action as his drumsticks fell out of his back pocket and onto to the floor. 
You jumped off the counter, rushing to pull your own pants down. Minho rubbed your hips softly, kissing you quickly before he flipped you around—his dick rubbing against your ass as he pulled your back flat against his chest. 
“You don’t need any prep?” He kisses your shoulder. 
“Had too much time on my hands in the morning,” you chuckled. 
Minho rolled his eyes at you with a soft smile sitting on his fond face. He eagerly grabbed the condom from you, throwing the wrapper to the floor as he quickly rolled it onto his dick. 
He didn’t waste any time as soon as you gave him a reassuring nod, sinking all the way inside you. 
Although you did use your toy in the morning, enough time has passed since then. Minho was stretching you fully, the sting slightly uncomfortable as he started to move. 
He could notice, given the lack of your usual loud moaning, and so he made sure to distract you from it by sucking onto your neck.
The sensation paired with his hands digging into the flesh of your ass was enough to add to the wetness in your core—helping Minho to slide in and out of you with much more ease.  
Soon your moans started echoing against the horrible acoustics of the toilets, mixing in with the sound of skin slapping against skin, and the big zippers on either of Minho’s pant leg dragging against the floor. 
You gripped onto the counter, hard, relaxing against Minho’s hold as he slammed your bodies together. 
“More, Min, please,” you whimpered, as the pleasure started building inside your stomach. 
You knew he was needy from his text, and then you knew it again when you watched him play his drums with so much energy. And now, with his thrusts fast and unrelenting–you were sure nothing could make him stop until he was satisfied. And you were happy to be the person to satisfy him. 
He held onto your hip bones tightly, using his grip to move you against his body, and so he told you to start rubbing your clit for him. 
You brought a hand between your legs, trying your best to concentrate as Minho moved your body around quite roughly. 
Then a loud creak made you yelp, the door opening slowly.
You jumped into Minho’s arms–him doing his best to shield you from the unwanted guest. Until the guest said, “sorry, sorry! It’s me!” 
You both let out a sigh of relief as Seungmin walked up to the pair of you. 
He planted a kiss on Minho’s lips before giving you a kiss as well, smiling softly. 
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologised, “I honestly didn’t think you’d be at it already.” 
“Ran out of patience,” Minho grumbled. Noticing you were still tense around him, he rubbed your stomach softly, waiting until your body relaxed into him again. 
“I wonder why,” Seungmin hummed, as if in deep thought. 
“Fuck you,” Minho narrowed his eyes at him. 
“Would you, hyung?” Seungmin grinned, wrapping his finger around Minho’s necklace before he tugged on it. 
Minho stumbled into him, holding onto you with one hand as the other went to Seungmin’s shoulder to keep his balance. 
“I’m in the middle of something,” Minho said, voice low. You could still hear him loudly, his voice jumping against the walls harshly. 
“Yeah, I can see,” Seungmin laughed, bringing a hand to your hair as he rubbed his fingers against your scalp. “Thought you were my groupie.” 
You chuckled at his pout, rolling your eyes at him. “Drummers do it better.” 
Minho laughed at that, pushing into your softly. You almost forgot the two of you were still connected, but you supposed his renewed movement was meant to be some sort of reward for your remark. Truthfully, Minho was just waiting for you to feel comfortable again–and being a little shit to Seungmin was your ultimate comfort zone. 
“And here I thought being the lead singer of a failing rock band would get me all the groupies I could ever want,” Seungmin sighed longingly. 
“Heard you’re not failing anymore,” you patted his shoulder, “why aren’t you jerking off a producer somewhere?” 
“Oh god,” Seungmin said, eyes wide, “they were all so hot.” 
At that, Minho slammed into you roughly. Seungmin chuckled at your surprised groan before he jumped onto the counter. He grabbed your arms, manoeuvring you to stand right in front of him and lean your hands on his thighs. 
He sunk his fingers into your hair again, scratching your scalp lightly. It was a big contrast to Minho’s rough thrusts, and you couldn’t understand which sensation your body was focused on. You let it overwhelm you either way. 
“There were three of them,” he explained in a soft voice as Minho kept fucking into you, “they said they’d love to speak to our manager so I panicked and gave them Jeongin’s number. I didn’t want them to think we were massive rookies that don’t even have a manager.” 
“But… you don’t,” you said, breathlessly. 
“Sure, but I didn’t want Mr. Chan to think that. I also think he was flirting with me,” Seungmin rambled on. He wasn’t usually one to talk so much, the only exception being the few hours after they came off stage. The adrenaline always made him chatty, which neither of you minded usually. 
But Minho was a jealous person. 
“Oh, flirting with you, was he?” He said through clenched teeth. 
“I think so,” Seungmin simply nodded, “and one of the other ones kept asking about you. Think he has a thing for drummers, too.” 
He meant that last part at you, and you chuckled softly. 
“So I think it can be a group effort,” he suggested, bringing his thumb to your cheek in a soft caress, “I’ll take that Chan guy, Minho can take the chatty one, and you can have the third one. His muscles looked amazing.” 
“Wait, what?” You asked, hoping Minho didn’t notice you clenching. You didn’t know what these guys looked like, nor did you really care to partake in what Seungmin was talking about–but the way he said it so casually caused something to light up in your stomach. 
“You know,” Seungmin gestured to the air, “fucking producers to get famous? It’s in all the rockstar handbooks.”
You laughed, but Minho stayed silent. In fact, he stopped moving entirely. He tapped your back slightly, an unconscious act he always did before he pulled out. So you knew to expect it, but it still surprised you when it happened. 
You quickly turned around to face him, watching as he pulled the condom off and got dressed. Confused about what was going on, you did the same. You leaned against Seungmin’s knees, finding comfort in the way he instantly opened his legs and let you stand between them as the pair of you looked at Minho, silently. 
“Hyung?” 
Minho clenched his jaw, blinking rapidly as he looked anywhere but at the pair of you. You waited silently, as you knew to do with Minho. Sometimes he just needed a moment or two. 
“You’re mine,” he mumbled, before looking back up at the pair of you, “both of you are mine.” 
“Yes, hyung, of co–” 
“--it turned her on, you know,” he said, sending an angry look your way. You brought your hands around your stomach, embarrassed that he did in fact notice. 
“Yeah, well, just because Y/N’s a slut doesn’t mean I meant it like that,” Seungmin explained. 
“Hey!” You tried to defend yourself, slapping Seungmin’s knee in protest. It didn’t help that you were still soaking wet–and him calling you names so casually wasn’t going to help you calm down. 
“Mine,” Minho said again, far more determined this time. “Neither one of you is touching anyone else. I’m not letting anyone near you two.” 
He closed the gap between you, trapping you in between his arms and Seungmin as he placed his hands flat on the younger’s thighs. You noticed his slid his fingers underneath the ripped out holes in Seungmin’s jeans, slowly raking his nails against the smooth skin of his thighs. You could hear Seungmin breathing louder. 
“It’ll be for a good cause though,” Seungmin said, unable to stop teasing. 
“I don’t give a shit about that,” Minho grumbled, “you’re mine.” 
Seungmin tapped your waist lightly, slowly, as if he didn’t want Minho to see–which made you understand he definitely didn’t. He was giving you a hint, urging you to join him in provoking Minho even more. 
“Don’t you wanna be famous, Min? I think Seung will have to fuck some producers to make that happen.” 
“Mine,” Minho repeated, louder, “Kim Seungmin isn’t fucking anyone. And neither are you.” 
“But, hyung,” Seungmin started, snaking his arms around your waist and reaching out for the loops on Minho’s jeans. He pulled him even closer to you–his still hard dick rubbing against your body lightly. “Do you wanna keep playing gigs at shitty venues?” 
“Yeah,” Minho shrugged. 
“And having to work two jobs for a month just to get one hour of studio time?” He added. 
“Who cares,” Minho rolled his eyes, before looking right at you. He was daring you to say something else, you knew it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it when his brown eyes were staring right at you like that. “There isn’t anything in this world that would make me share you two.” 
“And if I wanted it for my birthday?” Seungmin asked with a toothy grin. 
“Kim Seungmin,” Minho grumbled, grabbing onto the collar of Seungmin’s white blazer, “you’re such a fucking brat.” 
“And you’re a jealous idiot,” he smirked back. 
At that Minho grabbed the back of Seungmin’s neck, surging forward above your shoulder as he kissed him. The pair of them moaned into each other’s mouths, and you angled yourself as best you could to enjoy the view of them. 
Minho always got so intense when he was even a little bit jealous, and considering how red his ears currently were it was safe to assume he was extremely jealous right now. Even though the scenario you were talking about was hypothetical at best, it didn’t stop Minho from letting his possessiveness take over him. 
As the pair kept kissing, Seungmin brought a hand between your legs, tracing your wetness with his fingers. You quickly reacted, escalating things further as you grabbed Minho’s oversized white shirt from the collar, pulling it down to suck on the space right below his collarbone. It was his favourite spot, almost always already marked–but this time it wasn’t. You and Seungmin were surely lacking, but you’d quickly correct that. 
With your mouth occupied with marking Minho’s beautiful skin, you opened the button on his jeans, shoving your hand into his boxers to start pumping his dick. 
Minho pulled away from Seungmin’s lips at that, eyes fluttering shut as he threw his head back, enjoying your actions deeply–if the loud moans he let slip past his lips were anything to go by. 
Seungmin, ever impatient, was eager for more kisses, and so he grabbed your chin and turned your face towards him. He instantly sucked on your bottom lip, groaning into your mouth. 
As you kissed him, eager to taste him, he brought his hand into your underwear, slipping two fingers inside you with ease. 
“Fuck,” he pulled away, watching as he shut his eyes tightly. 
You then noticed Minho’s hand was down Seungmin’s boxers, too. 
“Bubs, you’re so wet,” he moaned.
“You’d hope so if my dick was inside her like five minutes ago,” Minho grumbled. You squeezed his length lightly, prompting another loud moan to leave him, proving an effective way to shut him up. 
“Can I be inside you?” Seungmin asked lowly, his breath shuddering as Minho started moving his hand quicker. 
“Please,” you nodded eagerly. 
You watched as Minho quickly dragged Seungmin off the counter. You watched as he tugged off Seungmin’s ripped jeans, getting another condom out of his pocket and rolling it on Seungmin’s length. 
You waited as he secured it in place before Seungmin pushed down your pants. Just like Minho, he grabbed your ass firmly before slowly sliding into your core. 
This time, you had Minho in front of you, and you could easily fall into his chest as Seungmin started thrusting into you. Minho held onto your back as Seungmin held your hips–and the sound of all three of you moaning was so incredibly loud in the old out of order toilets. 
You hoped and prayed the rest of the crew were still loading Hyunjin’s van with the equipment and wouldn’t hear everything that was going on. 
As much as you didn’t want to get caught (again, technically) you also really really couldn’t care enough to stop, nor be quiet about it. 
Seungmin’s cock felt so good inside you, hitting the soft spot deep inside your body repeatedly as Minho kissed along your neck. He was rubbing himself against your stomach, moaning into your skin. 
Minho peppered kisses along your jaw until he reached your cheek, placing soft and tender kisses on your skin. 
“Mine, baby,” he reminded you softly. You nodded eagerly, moaning pathetically as your legs started to shake. 
Seungmin was panting against your shoulder, his moans too broken to even make a sound at this point. 
“Minho,” you moaned, willing your eyes to focus on his intense glare and not roll to the back of your head. He nodded at you, choking back a moan as you wrapped your hand around his length, rubbing your thumb against the tip lightly. 
“Want both of you to cum inside me,” you groaned. 
At that, Seungmin started to move faster–more desperate as he slid a hand underneath your shirt and grabbed your tits. 
“Can’t get our groupie pregnant,” Minho smirked at you, “not good for the reputation.” 
You let your head fall on Seungmin’s shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as he tugged on your nipples harshly. The pain mixed with the pleasure in the best way imaginable, and all you could do in response was pump Minho’s cock faster. 
“Then cum on my tits, please, Min,” you begged, pushing your shirt up. You looked down at your chest, the sight of Seungmin’s big hands enveloping your chest caused you to clench around him tightly. “‘M close,” 
“Where’d your bra go?” Minho tsked at you, “threw it on stage?” 
You chuckled lightly, arching your back further into Seungmin’s chest.
“Seung, seung, don’t stop,” you started chanting, moans pitching higher and higher as Seungmin reached around to rub your clit in quick circles. 
You grabbed onto Minho’s arms, grounding yourself as he pulled you into a messy kiss. You could barely concentrate on it, spit running down the corner of your mouth as you felt your high approaching you in seconds. 
Before you could warn them you pulled away from Minho, your whole body shaking around Seungmin as he wrapped an arm around your stomach, holding you up as your knees threatened to give way. Minho sucked a spot on your neck as Seungmin fucked you through your orgasm–the pair of them surrounding you completely. 
Soon after, as your walls were still fluttering in the aftershock, Seungmin came too–moaning your name loudly. You were both spent, but it didn’t stop you from pumping Minho together, Seungmin grabbing the base while you rubbed his tip.
“I’m close,” he warned, groaning as the pair of you started moving faster.
“Ask him again,” Seungmin whispered in your ear.
“Min, cum on me,” you said quickly. 
“Go on, hyung,” Seungmin encouraged, “mark your territory.” 
“Then I.. should, fuck, should cum on you, too,” Minho panted.
Seungmin smirked at you, that wicked smirk of his, before he pushed you onto your knees. He went down with you, joining you on the floor as he simply–with the most innocent puppy eyes he could master–stuck his tongue out. You quickly followed his lead, sticking your tongue out, too. 
In a matter of seconds you felt warmth dropping onto your cheeks, and you watched in awe as Minho aimed the rest of his cum onto Seungmin’s tongue. 
You pouted up at him, complaining loudly that he completely missed your tongue. 
“Come here then,” Seungmin growled, pulling you into a kiss. It was salty and messy and bitter and you whimpered into the kiss. 
You pulled away, desperate for some oxygen, and Seungmin took the opportunity to clean your cheeks from Minho’s cum–scooping it off your skin before he shoved his fingers in your mouth. 
He chuckled at you, watched as you sucked his fingers clean before letting out hushed praises. 
You felt Minho rub your head lightly, scratching at your hair as you looked up at him. “Let’s clean up, bunny.” 
Seungmin helped you stand up as the three of you cleaned each other up, soft kisses exchanged between you. Once you were dressed again, and Seungmin spent a good few minutes trying to make your hair look normal again, Minho’s phone rang. 
“It’s Felix, they said they took all the equipment back and they’re at a bar now. Wanna go join them?” 
“Would it be lame if I said I wanna go sleep now?” Seungmin grumbled, making a point of plopping his chin on your shoulder. 
Minho rolled his eyes, waiting for your answer as well. “I’m not a rockstar, so I definitely want to go to sleep now.” 
“Let’s go home then,” Minho decided, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he guided the pair of you out of the old, crumbling toilets. 
Seungmin grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together as the three of you walked in silence towards the parking lot. 
That was until Minho decided to announce, “that was actually the worst place we’ve done it in. Hands down.” 
“Hyung, nothing screams rockstar more than a quickie in a gross toilet with your number one groupie,” Seungmin reasoned. 
“Number one?” You gasped, “you have another groupie?” 
“Yes,” Seungmin smirked, “but he’s actually also the drummer in my band so I don’t know if it counts.” 
“It doesn’t,” Minho huffed, “because the lead singer of my band is gonna disappear mysteriously tonight.” 
The two of you laughed, watching fondly as Minho did his best to hold back his smile. 
That night, the three of you climbed into bed–letting Minho take the middle so as to let his possessive streak from before calm down slightly. You were sure he wasn’t actually too insecure about it, but if being sandwiched between the two of you was what he needed you’d allow him that. Even if you did prefer the middle.
As the three of you snuggled closer to each other, Seungmin went into more concrete details about the producers he met. How they offered to record one of the songs they performed that night, how they always wanted to work with a rock band before–even though they were primarily into rap genres. 
“Babe, did you tell the others about this?” Minho gasped, blinking rapidly. 
“No, I went straight to you guys,” Seungmin shrugged. 
“Well, this is huge for the band, Seungminnie. We have to tell them in the morning.” Seungmin nodded. 
You moved closer into Minho’s chest, smiling proudly at your boyfriends. 
“I can come to the studio, right? I have to see it happening,” you smiled. 
“Obviously,” Seungmin grinned, “I mean, we still need to take one producer each, you know.” 
You slapped Seungmin from across Minho’s torso, tsking at his apparently uncontrollable need to tease his boyfriend. 
“Do you wanna go again, Kim Seungmin?” Minho grumbled at him, jaw clenching. 
“Oh, baby,” Seungmin swooned dramatically, “thought you’d never ask.” 
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apollos-calliope · 2 months
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an expansion upon this post: luke castellan x aphrodite! reader blurb
the hermès’ cabin bunks weren’t by any means comfortable or fit for two, but you and luke were able to fit perfectly with a little limb configuration. you were situated practically on top of each other - your knee was pressed against his thigh, your body draped over his. you had just stopped making out to catch your breath. you turned lightly in the position you laid, knocking your elbow into luke’s lower stomach.
“fuck! ow,” he muttered, smacking your arm as you laughed.
“you. like. me.” you pressed a kiss to each of his cheeks, planting one big one on his lips at the end.
“i sure do, baby,” he grinned, pressing his fingertips into the flesh of your hips to pull you back into his lips. you fought each other for control. when he bit your lower lip, you pulled away to let out a string of not-so kind words. luke widened his eyes, not recognizing the language.
“gonna dirty talk to me in french? i like it.”
your bright smile faded into a smirk as you came up with the best idea you’d ever had.
you placed your head into the crook of his neck and pressed your lips to his ear.
“aujourd’hui c’est jeudi, mi amor. et parfois je me demande si t’as été bercé trop près du mur…” (today is thursday, my love. and sometimes i wonder if you were rocked too close to the wall as a baby)
he bucked his hips up into yours, causing you to let out something between a snort and a strangled moan. he had no idea what you were saying, of course. out of curiousity, you had to continue.
“il fait chaud. je veux aller à la plage.” you smiled as he grabbed your face to kiss you. he was weirdly effected by your french, but you weren’t using charmspeak. it must be something about the accent, or maybe he’s just into french. either way, it’s hilarious to see him panting. (it’s hot out. i want to go to the beach.)
the two of you continued for a while as your bodies molded together under the summer heat. sweat dripped from exertion and anticipation. luke finally began to pull at the edge of your shirt to push it up. yet, like every excursion at camp, the door handle eventually jiggled to signal everyone else’s return. you pulled away to press a kiss to his nose.
“tu es bête,” you giggled. “i’m glad i know you’re sexually attracted to thursdays, luke.” (you’re stupid.)
his protests came out as more of a stutter than an outburst. the bright red of his cheeks matched the lipstick smeared on his face.
“i am not! i’m just addicted to everything about you.”
~
can you tell this is my first semester of french because ooooh boy i have so much to learn! 😅
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safifonhasstrel · 1 year
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Have house plants is harder than having children actually. Like some of these bitches will almost die on you if the humidity isn't 100% to their liking 24/7
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louloulemons-posts · 10 months
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Drunk Snuggles
Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader
Summary : Eddie gets a little drunk at a party and wants to cuddle his girlfriend.
Word Count : 1.7K
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Warnings : mentions of alcohol, Eddie getting a little sad, it’s angsty for like a second, major fluff, fluffy Eds, none sexual nakedness, use of Y/N, pet names, not proof read.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
Laughing as you spoke to Robin, you could feel the music thumping around the room. You were at a house party, it wasn’t something you did a lot but you felt like it.
“I think our peace is going to be disturbed,” Robin said, motioning to somewhere behind you. Turning you saw your other friend Steve Harrington, he looked flushed in his face.
When he reached you he spoke, “You need to come deal with your boy, he’s something else with booze in his system.”
“Where is he?” You asked.
“The garden, I left him on a lounger.”
You nodded and headed through the crowd of dancing bodies to get to the back door. It was much quieter out there, not many people. A few were smoking and others making out.
The curly haired boy lay on a lounger, staring up at the sky. An almost empty bottle of beer loosely hanging from his hand. Making your way to him you could only smile.
“Hey,” you spoke softly, to not make him jump. Hearing your voice he shot up, “Hey!” Attempting to stand and make his way to you, he cackled as he wobbly, nearly falling flat on his face.
You quickly grabbed him, ensuring that he stayed up right. “Careful Eds,” you said, holding him by the waist. Giving you a goofy grin, he sighed, “You’re so beautiful, where did you go?”
“Just talking to Robin babe, I did tell you.”
“Yeah but you were gone agessss,” he whined, lips falling into a pout. “20 minutes isn’t ages.”
“It is, my favourite girl left me for 20 whole minutes, that’s like … a million seconds!”
“A million?”
“Mhm,” he nodded.
“Well I’m back now.”
“Yeah,” he smiled again, hugging you tightly.
You hadn’t seen Eddie get drunk too many times, but on the few occasions you did, you noticed he became a lot more touchy than usual.
“Love you so much,” he slurred.
“I love you too.”
“Yeah?” He asked, pulling away to look at your face. “Yeah, I love you.” He laughed, shyly hiding his face, in your neck.
“What’s funny?” You asked.
“The prettiest girl in the whole of Hawkins .. in the whole world … the whole universe! Loves me, Eddie Munson. Who’d have thought,” he rambled on.
“How much have you had to drink pretty one?”
“Just a couple.”
“Mhm. Sure you did. Should’ve kept an eye on you.”
“I’m sorry, are you mad at me?” He asked, eyes almost teary when he looked at you.
“Oh no,” you said, softly stroking his face, “I’m glad you’re having fun.”
“Mhm, I was. But then you left me! Then Steve said he’d find you, tell you to come and see me if I promised to stay on the lounger.”
“And here I am,” you smiled.
“Mhm! You found me!”
“Course I did, can’t lose my favourite boy can I?”
“I’m your favourite boy?” He asked, tilting his head like a puppy. “Yeah baby, you’re my favourite person.”
His face flushed at that, gosh he was so cute. “Could we maybe go home now though?” He asked.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah I just-” he mumbled something into your neck.
You laughed, “Pretty one I can’t hear you when you talk there, tell me what you said.”
“I wanna … go home and cuddle.”
“You wanna cuddle?”
“So bad,” he said softly, head resting on your shoulder.
“We can do that, let’s go say goodbye and then I’ll drive us home.”
“Home?”
“The trailer Eds.”
“It’s your home?”
“Wherever you are is my home Eddie.”
He looked like he was about to burst into tears, but instead he held the sides of your face and planted a kiss on your mouth. “Love you so much.”
“Love you too baby.”
You unwinded your arms from his waist and took his hand, “Lets go say bye then.” Walking back into the party you saw your friends.
They waved at you as you made your way over, a stumbling Eddie behind you. “Careful,” you said, to which he just laughed.
You hugged Nancy, Steve, Robin and Jonathan goodbye. Making sure they all had ways to get home safe, feeling Eddie almost tugging you towards the door.
“Good luck with him tonight Y/L/N,” Steve said. “Thanks Harrington, see you guys later.”
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
When you arrived at the car, you helped Eddie in as he had turned into bambi on ice. No idea how to control his long limbs. “Steady babe, mind your head,” you said, placing your hand on his curls and he got into your car.
He pulled his legs in and sighed as he leaned back against the leather seat. Leaning over to do his seatbelt, he pecked your cheek. Once. Twice. Three times.
“Comfy?” He nodded, you smiled. Shutting the door and climbing to your side, repeating the same actions as Eddie had done, you began your drive to Eddies.
The car was quiet, only the rumbling of the engine making a sound. Whilst you changed gears you felt another hand on yours, Eddie linking your fingers. “You okay?”
“Miss you.”
“Sweet boy I’m right here,” you chuckled.
“Not close enough.”
“Well we can be close and cuddle as soon as we get in and ready for bed okay?”
“Mhm. How longs it gonna take?”
“‘Bout 5 minutes Eds.”
Letting out an audible whine, you looked over at your boyfriend. “What?”
“Too long.”
“You’ll be okay. You’ve got my hand and we can talk.”
“What about?”
“Anything.”
He let out a sigh, thinking of something to say. “Can I ask a question?”
“Sure, go for it babe.”
“Why me?”
“Why you what?” You furrowed your brows, not understanding what he meant.
“Why would you want to be with me?”
“Why wouldn’t I? You’re kind, and funny, and a great friend. I love spending time with you. You make me happy, and laugh so much. You’re a beautiful souls Eddie.”
You heard him sniffle. Pulling into the trailer park, Eddie hadn’t spoke since your little speech. “Here we go Pretty one, we’re home.”
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
Turning off the car and climbing out you walked round to help Eddie, finding him tearing up. “Hey, what’s wrong?” You asked, stroking his face.
“You just said … such nice things!” He cried out, “ so nice and I just love you and you love me and it’s just nice.”
“Oh baby, come on let’s get in. You need some cuddles huh?”
He nodded, rubbing his face and taking your hands to get out the car. Locking it, you walked into the trailer. Wayne was lay on the couch watching a show.
“Hey kids how was the party?” He asked.
“It was good we had fun,” you smiled at the older man. “Good I’m glad, have you eaten?” He questioned.
“Baby,” Eddie whined in your ear, arms wrapping around you from behind. “Yeah, there were snacks and stuff so we’re good. Thank you though.” He hummed at you.
“I assume he’s drunk a bit?” Nodding to Eddie. “Yeah, I’m gonna get him to bed.”
“Call if you need anything Sweetheart.”
“Will do. Say night Eds.”
“Night Pops.”
“Night Son, don’t give her any trouble.”
“Would never!”
You laughed, “Come on Pretty one let’s go to bed.”
“For cuddles?”
“Mhm cuddles, let’s go.” Eddie dragged you to his room, throwing the door open. Falling over his bed to turn on his lamp.
“Be careful!” You said, shutting the door behind you. “‘M okay.”
“Come on, let’s get changed.” You went to his draws grabbing some plaid pants, handing them to him.
Taking out one of his old shirts and some shorts for yourself, you went to him. “You want some help?” You asked.
“Please.”
“Okay Sweet Boy, shoes first, can you take your rings off for me?”
“‘Mkay.”
Undoing his laces and pulling his shoes from his feet, you placed them by his others, sliding off your own. “Done it,” he said, passing you his many rings, you placed them on the top of his dresser, yours once again being placed next to them.
“Okay jacket and shirt next,” you helped him get his arms out and his head out of his shirt, throwing them to the washing bin in his room. “Want a shirt? Or just bottoms?”
“Bottoms.”
“Okay pretty one, let’s get you out of your jeans then.”
You undid his belt as his hands didn’t want to listen to his head, along with the button and zipper. Sliding them off his legs, “Want to keep your underwear on?”
“No.”
“Can I do it?”
“Mhm. Never have to ask.”
“That’s sweet babe, but I do. Let’s get em off.” You’d seen Eddie naked plenty of times, not always in a sexual manor, well actually it was less sexual that it was sweet moments.
You’d shower together just because, washing each others hair sweetly, you’d lay together, bare just to be close. He liked skin on skin you’d learned. Comforted him.
“Can you put these on so I can get changed?” You asked.
“Mhm.” He quietly took the pants off you and began to slide his feet in. Sliding off you jacket and top you slid into his. Doing the same with your own jeans, getting into your shorts.
Placing them in the hamper, you opened another draw, pulling out some wipes. You cleaned your face off in front of the mirror. Looking in it you saw Eddie watching you, now in his pyjamas.
“Beautiful,” he said.
“Hm?”
“You’re beautiful.”
“So are you.” He flushed again, dropping onto the bed and chuckling into his hands. You couldn’t help but grin, wiping off any remaining mascara and threw the wipe into the trash.
“Come on then let’s cuddle.” Shuffling up the bed, you both climbed under the blanket. Turing off the light, Eddie rested his head on your chest, wild curls everywhere. “You want me to tie it up?” You asked.
“Can you play with it?” Sleep evident in his voice.
“Sure thing.” Fingers running through his curls, his arm wrapped around your face and he snuggled into your chest. “I love you Y/N.”
“I love you too Pretty, now get some sleep.”
“‘Mkay.”
Kissing the top of his head, he hummed, soon drifting off into dreamland. You following behind not far after, the sound of Wayne’s show playing quietly filling the darkness.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍
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churipu · 4 months
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Hiii!! I can ask for jjk men (your choice!) with a girlfriend who doesn't look like it but is like super strong! ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ I have a love for those types of characters<3 thanks in advance!
I hope you are getting better ❤️‍🩹
jjk men & their "looks like a cinnamon roll but could kill" you gf
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featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, nanami kento x fem! reader
warnings. cursing
note. anonnn <33 i absolutely love this one, i have so many speculations for different characters about this request omg, thank you for requesting love, i hope this one is up to par, much love xoxo (and i am feeling so much better now, thank you for checking up on me). OH AND GUESS WHAT? u don't understand how thankful i am to reach 300+ followers in the first week??? u guys rock, ilysm
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GOJO SATORU. i feel like he'd feel so betrayed after finding out how you're very strong?? one second he's looking away and then the next second, he looks back and a curse is ready to pounce on you. he grits his teeth when he realizes that — but before he could even do anything, there you were, sending out a strong punch that leaves a gust of wind as a cherry on top.
gojo could only stare at you, jaw dropped. all he could think of was how on earth did you do that and how could someone so...cute and adorable like you send out that kind of punch. honestly, on one side he felt so betrayed to only know of your power now — but on the other side, he's so damn proud of you.
after all of that, you still managed to send him your most innocent smile as if you didn't just almost possibly created a hurricane with that punch of yours. skipping happily and then throwing yourself onto the male, "satoru!"
"you never cease to surprise me, baby." he chuckles.
and you blinked at him innocently, a little confused at what he's talking about. at first gojo thought you were just pretending not to know, but when he realized that you actually didn't know, it dawned upon him that maybe you didn't even realize how strong you actually are.
"y/n, you just obliterated a curse."
"oh. oh. yeah! i did."
yeah, you definitely weren't aware of your own strength. which surprised gojo even more.
TOJI FUSHIGURO. he's always thought that protecting you was one of his main duty, and believe me when i say that toji is always on guard for anything that could possibly send harm your way. feral animals, harmful plants, annoying babies, curses, anything he finds annoying — he just assumes you don't like them either.
despite not having a cursed energy, toji is strong. anyone would agree with that. so when he settled in with you, someone who radiates such loving and gentle aura, toji made it his job to keep you out of harm's way.
but apparently, you've got that under covered.
being in a relationship meant going out on dates occasionally, right? however, some people do not understand the meaning of "i have a boyfriend" and it annoys you. so when toji was away to fetch a few things and you were left alone, a stranger felt like it was the best time to hit on you.
"saw ya' from a couple of minutes ago, thought you're cute. we should hang out."
obviously the word "no" didn't work as he kept on bothering you, and you do know how people react when they don't get what they want sometimes? they just plain out throw words to boost up their ego and deny their own embarrassment. it's funny.
"whatever. ya' aren't that cute anyways." everything began out as an exchange of words — until anger consumes the best out of them. the male got ready to swung his hand on you.
and believe me when i say that toji was having the time of his life watching you exchange angry words with the guy, until he saw the male raise his hand. toji was about to drop everything and come to your rescue, but stopped when you smacked the stranger across his face harshly it sent him stumbling over his own feet.
toji chuckled lightly, although surprised. that day, i swore he promised himself not to get on your bad side (also, he thought it was pretty hot of you). he told you he'd been watching from afar, and was so ready to be your knight in shining armor.
apparently, you are your own knight in shining armor.
NANAMI KENTO. for the longest time, nanami has stood his ground in defending you from malices and curses. some of the people do not like the idea of you and him together, especially girls who failed to obtain his attention (obviously). and he'd always be the one to tell them to piss off and not to butt in his relationship.
you were just a normal businesswoman working normal office hours, and nanami — well, he's a pretty busy man. but he has made himself visible to your work environment a couple of times, mostly because you were clumsy enough to forget your bento box that you made for yourself before going to work.
and apparently that few times was enough to make girls swoon over your boyfriend. honestly, you could care less. you trust nanami. but things went rock bottom when this one particular girl, a co-worker who was obviously jealous of you. and she doesn't hesitate in showing that to you.
"accidentally" spilling coffee on you, "accidentally" stepping on your foot with her heels, "accidentally" bumping into you, "accidentally" elbowing your head when she walks by. just everything in an attempt to get a reaction out of you so she could possibly play the victim card.
you brushed her every attempt off, although it bothered you quite a bit. but your last straw was when she "accidentally" ruined the report you've been working on for the past week, sacrificing your rest and sweat for it — only for her to dump down a cup of iced macchiato on it the day you were supposed to hand it in to your boss.
you've just had enough of her, and this was not something you can brush off like her other "accidents" because this report would affect your position in the company (and possibly get you fired). but at this point, do you even care? no, no you don't.
"so, is this the part where i hit her?" you ask another co-worker who was there in the room when everything happened, and they nervously shook their head, "really? i feel like this is the part where i do."
so when you did send a punch to her jaw, your other co-workers were quick to run find help (your boss). and all it took was one punch to make the girl wobble weakly, her knees buckling.
oh, and your boss wasn't too happy about your resort in violence, especially in the work area.
"i don't care, i'm fired anyways." you took off the company's id card that was hanging from around your neck and tossed it onto the table before packing your bag to leave.
your boss wasn't the only unhappy one, you were too. and nanami as well.
"it isn't my fault, kento."
"i know, darling. i'm not saying it's your fault, i'm just surprised...that's all."
well, that was the first time you've ever threw a punch to someone. and the first time you've ever been fired, so yes. it is a surprise to nanami, but to you? you were expecting it sooner or later with the pace of how that co-worker was going in with her shenanigans.
"she was pushing it."
nanami was silently proud of you for being able to defend yourself though, "well, at the end of the day, you won the fight. right?"
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© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !
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bunny584 · 3 months
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OBSESSED: SHOKO feat. The BOYS (PART II)
A/N: This is so…I am so…CLEARLY I was in a mood when I wrote this 😅 there is 100% going to be a third and final part. Please use the visual below to envision the…biomechanics of positioning and such, height differences and all.
C/W: ….the trio is their own content warning LOL, Mature 18+
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Shoko is drowning.
She is suffocating.
And it’s your little hand that’s holding the back of her head under water.
…rather, she wishes your little hand would just grip the back of her head already and drown her face in your—
“Do you like the pink or the black dress better?”
Your eyes are wide and gorgeous. Finding Shoko’s in the floor length mirror, expecting an answer. An opinion.
But the problem is, Shoko has only one opinion.
And it’s that you’re fucking hot.
And beautiful. And pretty. And perfect.
And her jaw is so sore from how much she clenches it to keep herself from begging to eat your pussy like a woman starved.
Because she IS starved.
“Baby?”
Your girly giggle knocks Shoko back to Earth, just long enough for you to rip her breath away.
You glide over to the bed, where Shoko is seated. Thighs mashed together. As if it’ll keep her from leaking all coherent thought onto her panties.
“Y-you look pretty in…” Shoko’s voice is high and weak, before it shatters to stardust.
Seductive little grin tugs on your lips before you flick your tongue over Shoko’s bottom lip. She’s immediately cross-eyed.
Panting, with mouth parted.
Shoko’s heart is rattling in the back of her throat, how it always does before you kiss her.
Then you kiss her.
Your tongue dances with hers. Feather light pulls along the roof of her mouth. Shoko whines. She always whines when you makeout with her. Her entire body is loose and limp. The only stiff thing about her is her hot, sticky bud. Begging to be touched and rubbed while you fuck her mouth like this.
And she would touch herself while you did this to her, if she could. But she never can.
Because you’re a succubus.
You taste and suck and roll Shoko’s soul over your tongue like a glass of Sauvignon Blanc.
And right when you have her pathetic. Whimpering “oh god” and “please” into your mouth, you pull away. Planting one last chaste kiss on her lips or cheek before going about the conversation or task.
Leaving Shoko paralyzed.
“Pink it is!” You glide into Shoko’s bathroom, the boys will be over in a few.
“P-pink is perfect.” Words bubble out of Shoko’s lips a day late and dollar short.
But who cares? She can’t think right now.
Like clockwork, Shoko’s two fingers snake between her drenched panties and her leaky cunt.
She just…she just needs to take the edge off.
Because you’ve been doing this to her.
Kissing her until she’s soaking wet every day. Since that night. It’s a sick little routine you two have and it’s driving Shoko insane.
You’re always sighing into her mouth and calling her baby and holding her face in a way that makes her cunt twitch. And clench. And pulsate around nothing.
The second you leave the room or turn away. Shoko’s fingers fly to her core. Petting herself slack jawed and dumb.
Because even small touches keep her grounded.
And she’s NOT going to ruin this by trying to talk about it. And muddle your obvious chemistry with labels and feelings.
A sliver of you is enough.
Even though she is pining for the moment you fuck her mouth with something else.
“Girls?” Satoru’s voice thunders in your foyer.
For once you’re grateful for his utter lack of boundaries. He jingles keys for dramatic effect.
“Car’s here! The tequila isn’t going to drink itself.”
It’s going to take act of God to stop Suguru from cumming in his pants.
All night.
He has been physically restraining the steel fucking pipe between his legs all night.
And maybe he would survive if it was just the way you winded your hips on him the last 5 songs.
Maybe he would be okay if it was just the way you grazed your lips over his ear whenever you whispered something to him.
It was definitely the way you batted your eyelashes up at him. Holding eye contact while taking the kamikaze shots.
That are white and opaque, like his cum.
And being the sick, perverted shell of a human that he is. He pictured you swallowing his arousal. The same way you throated that shot.
Not to mention the “You have to hold eye contact with me, Suguru. Or seven years of bad sex.”
Sex?
Sex?
You are sex.
The way you’re lapping him in the taxi home is sex.
With your dress splayed across him. Heat radiating from your precious little cunt held back only by gossamer thin lace.
Suguru can feel every tiny bump in the road. Because your pussy grinds and bounces and rubs the length of his shaft.
And he’s shameless.
Every time you lean forward to talk to Shoko, Suguru’s hand traces down your spine. His mind’s eye can only picture steadying the small of your waist while he fucks into you until you forget your name.
His cock is raging against his thigh.
He and Satoru have been exchanging dubious glances all night.
Especially when you pulled them both to the dance floor. You were a lock-and-key fit between them.
Like you were made to take them both.
“God.”
Suguru accidentally mumbles out loud. And he’s thanking/cursing out the gods as soon as he does
Because when you turn to look back at him, your hips grind in a small circle on his cock. And the friction nearly short circuits his brain.
“You okay? Am I too heavy?” Cotton candy on your voice and Suguru needs you to melt on his tongue.
Suguru purposefully bucks his hips upward - causing you to bounce fully off his lap. And he would impale you on the landing if he could.
He could suspend you with one hand. And rail the daylight out of you while standing up.
“You’re a featherweight, princess.” It’s a miracle he’s able to keep his tone steady.
“Oh, he speaks?” Shoko teases.
“Only because the love of his—“ Both you and Suguru land friendly fire onto Satoru’s chest.
Effectively cutting him off.
Satoru settles back into his seat. Riding his eyes along every soft curve and dip in your body.
Everyone.
And he means everyone (driver included) in this car except for you is fucking struggling. Keeping it together by a string of floss.
And he didn’t need his Six Eyes to see that.
Shoko hasn’t stopped panting since the night started. Every time you lean into her ear to giggle about god knows what, she moans.
It’s soft. Below the decibels of normal human perception.
But Satoru can perceive it.
The driver has had his left hand buried in his crotch the whole time. Goddamn revolting.
But Satoru gets it.
And Suguru.
Poor, tortured Suguru.
Satoru has never seen his best friend this blue balled in his entire life.
He has seen Suguru take swords to the chest. Satoru has seen him swallow shit curses as big as the Burj Khalifa. He’s seen Suguru suffer. 

And yet, he has never suffered like this.
There’s a light sheen of sweat draped on his forehead. His jaw is so tightly clenched his molars could vaporize into thin air. His hand drunkenly runs up and down your back when you bend over and dangle your fucking prize in Suguru’s face.
In Satoru’s face.
You are a tease.
And Satoru has every intention of getting you back for this.
There will be hell to pay for how irresistible you are. It’s maddening.
You could ask for the world and Satoru would bring you the Milky Way. You pout your lips and bat your eyelashes and somehow, somehow the batteries in Satoru’s brain die.
Every. Fucking. Time.
The whole car comes to a proverbial halt. Because you lean over to Shoko once more. Your dress bunched a little too high around your hips. Plump, perky ass cheeks in near full view in Suguru’s lap.
“Baby?” A snowflake hitting the ground in that car might as well be a raging hurricane. With how silent it is.
Satoru swallows the sharpest, driest rocks known to man.
Suguru rolls his bottom lip under his teeth. He’ll draw blood in a minute.
“Y-yes?” Shoko answers your call.
Starless skies fill the car but Satoru can see Shoko’s high crimson blush from the backseat.
Baby? Holy shit, Ieiri.
“Kiss me,” Melody on your lips is strong enough to sink a Navy fleet.
What Satoru sees next will be burned into his psyche for the rest of his life.
His overgrown cock throbs against his thigh. Beating more aggressively with each passing second.
He can’t remember when he pulled his glasses off. To watch your tongue wire into Shoko’s accepting, desperate mouth. You thread both of your hands into her hair while your mouth molests hers.
All in plain view of Satoru and Suguru.
And Shoko has no idea what to do with herself. Satoru can’t blame her. She’s full of high pitched moans and pants, drunk off of your love elixir.
God. Fucking. Damn.
“Oh, oh it’s that kind of night?”
Satoru is fully aware of the slur to his words. And the flecks of blood now currently under his finger nails from digging into his palms the way he is.
And you laugh in the way wind chimes sing in the breeze. How Satoru imagines the angels in heaven strum harps. Your voice is so…disarming.
“What, you jealous pretty boy?”
You flash him a smile that Satoru is sure doubles as the cure for any and all communicable diseases. A smile that could get answers out of the CIA or KGB.
“Maybe. A little bit.” Satoru is all rasp. His hand palms his length on its own accord.
He has no control here.
Your eyes flicker down to Satoru’s mouth for a millisecond. And in a flash his lips are on yours.
He grips a handful of hair like it’s his life-force. Your kiss is sweet. And dizzying. And toxic. Nothing like this can be pure, it can’t be good. Satoru is convinced his heart will stop beating after taking a bite out the apple in your Garden of Eden.
But he could die on your lips. Right here. Right now.
“Oh Satoru…” you purr into his mouth and he shamelessly squeezes his cock.
You are unfair.
'I’m jealous too, pretty girl.” Suguru’s voice slices through the thick lusty silence.
You say nothing before you pull off of Satoru’s wanting lips and take in Suguru.
Satoru and Shoko watch you nestle deeper into Suguru’s lap.
His hands drift from your waist, to your hips, around to your ass. The way your flesh dimples when he squeezes sends electric currents through Satoru’s cock.
He watches you deepen your kiss with Suguru, who is so clearly tantalized. So clearly about to split you in half.
His fingers twitch along his zipper for a second.
Then time stops.
And so does the taxi.
You take a second to pull away from Suguru’s lips but Satoru doesn’t miss how puffy and flushed your mouth is.
Your eyes dart between the three of them. Then out the window.
“Oh! We’re home!”
FINALE
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devotion · 10 months
Text
there’s no distance (between you and me); miguel o’hara
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☾ pairing: husband!miguel o’hara x fem!spider-woman!reader
☾ synopsis: owing to his heightened senses, miguel finds out that you’re on your period before you do. and with that, he’s more than willing to tend for your needs, whatever they may be. | wc: 2.1k+.
☾ type: fluffy oneshot
☾ warnings: mentions of period and blood (not graphic), nicknames, baby talk, a suggestive ending.
☾ notes: first miguel fic!!! AHH, took me 2 weeks to write after almost 7 months of not writing at all, but i made it! regarding the spanish in this fic, i kept it simple as possible. i did do spanish for 7 years, and have an ear for it (and got an A), but if any spanish speakers out there see anything that needs correcting, feel free to do so <3 also... fluffy requests pls?
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the feeling gnaws at your insides, growing as minutes tick by, but also fading every once in a while.
you notice it’s morning by the sunlight peeking through your sleep mask, but way past sunrise as the birds’ chirping and warbling seem to have been replaced wholly by the bustle of nueva york. it’s ten am, probably, and you’re not planning to move an inch yet.
what you’re sensing is undeniably familiar, you realise. eventhough it’s been quite a while you haven’t experienced it, there’s no other explanation as to why your uterus is screaming for you to go to the bathroom.
miguel clicked on way before you could even confirm it though.
a few months, nearing six to be exact, your boyfriend has developed his wits to sense exactly what stage of your cycle you’re in, instinctively becoming second nature. besides your body language doing most of the talking, his ability to smell helps him discover more about you than you do yourself.
you appreciating it is an understatement to say the least. except... except that it’s hard to hide when you’re ovulating.
he shakes the thought.
“amor,” miguel whispers, in an attempt to wake you up. by your heartbeat, however, he knows you’re slipping into and out of consciousness—not too slow and almost at a resting rate.
his eyebrows furrow with one look at your face—kissed by the moon and kissed by him. he’s always up before you are, never wavering to steal that one chance to admire you. as his eyes trail to your fingers hanging from the edge of the bed, back to every feature and detail on your face, a deep chuckle escapes him; he simply couldn’t put into words how much he’s in love with you. the awe he has in your beauty resurfaces, the way you have glitter for skin, the way he can get to call you his.
at that, he’s not willing to disturb your rest, but he must, just so he can cater for you like he should.
“baby...” miguel nudges your arm the slightest, lips meeting with your forehead. a kiss, two kisses, three. “nena, porfa... wake up.”
“no,” you dismiss.
“you need to. estás en tú periodo, mi amor.”
finally, your eyes are met with his. and that’s when your eyebrows knit together, all your emotions and feelings align to fit with the facts.
“want me to get you up?”
your hand lazily raises to him, in which he responds swiftly to, bracing you in his arms to take you to the bathroom. as soon as he sets you down in front of the sink, it takes him seven seconds at most to grab a few stuff you’ll be needing: pads, a hot water bottle, paracetamol and water.
“how did the kettle heat the water so quickly?”
“tomé café.”
“oh,” you nod, sighing and seating yourself down. hugging the hot water bottle close to your tummy gives you mild relief, giving you a chance to breathe with much less struggle. by the look of your face, however, miguel knows that you’re drained. he senses it. so, he kneels in front, both of his hands on your knees, and promises, “estoy aquí... estoy aquí.”
“yo sé, cariño.”
“need anything else?” he asks, opening the pad packet and placing it in the fresh underwear he had bought you last week.
shaking your head, you pout at him.
his head tilts to the side, eyes smiling at you before he plants a kiss on your lips, lingering.
it’s later on in the day where miguel finds himself back at hq in the monitor room, his work making him busy when he really, really doesn’t want it to. the anomalies keep on appearing out of nowhere, and his plans to keep everything in the right structure always seem frail until the last moment. it sends him to an overdrive, especially with the fact that he’s been preoccupied with the thought of you and how you’re still having to be in the other room, in pain, but lyla insists that the team needs you.
he clenches his fist when she reiterates the same answer to his question again, making the best effort to hide the scowl that forms on his face. after eight trips in the portal today already, he’s in the dire need to head out for a break.
meanwhile, you’re in the other room, sat on a large table in a good distance between gwen and hobie. pavitr, peter b., and jess are also present, having stuffed yourselves with pizza and trash for lunch.
food gets you lost in a world of your own, and you’ve just happily eaten to your heart’s content. yet the usual quiet after everyone has eaten suffuses the room, with them doing their own thing. but all you’re doing is staring blankly into space, foot rubbing on to the other mindlessly as if to distract you from your discomfort.
peter b. has already got some milk heating on the stove. an odd request from you, he thinks, since it’s summer and mid-day, but obliges regardless—for all those times you’ve babysat mayday, this is just a small favour.
gwen notices your restlessness, eyes narrowing at you before she asks in a hushed tone, “hey, you okay?”
you shake your head. the cramps increase twofold now you’re aware of it somehow, and it has your teeth grinding.
“i feel you,” she reveals, her cadence sympathetic before coming close to whisper in your ear, “twinning!” you muster up the energy to turn your head towards her, sending her an inquisitive look. she nods, “mine was worse in the morning.”
“mine started then.”
a few moments pass, small chatter picking up between all of you. gwen advances towards you with her chair in tow, her head leaning onto your shoulder as she begins to rub your lower back. the peace inevitably—of course, how you knew—is interrupted with the door slamming back, revealing a frowning miguel.
eyes closed, you bite back a smile at your husband. a le gusta la atención.
he stops in his tracks towards the fridge. all eyes are on him when he takes a deep inhale, as if to smell something. he comments, “there’s pizza.”
it takes a moment of silence before hobie snorts, head cocking towards miles so that he could chuck the box at miguel for him to catch. miles explains, “tu mujer saved it.”
miguel squints his eyes at him. “¿qué?”
“i’m working on it!”
he glances at you, pupils scarlet, before turning his back, the slight waft of chocolate powder invading his senses as he proceeds to devour the pizza. that’s when he makes his way to where peter b. and mayday are, intending to continue to finish preparing the hot chocolate for you. surely it’s for you only; from everyone in this room, you and mayday are the sole people who enjoy cocoa, and nobody but you would choose to have it after lunch.
a friendly smile from peter greets miguel as he sees him approaching, but is brushed aside. second pizza down, now on his third, miguel moves to get the aerosol whipped cream from the refrigerator, and then the marshmallows, to which peter guesses that he’s probably helping him.
peter, loving to state the obvious, starts, “oh, y/n had told me to make her—”
“—i’ll do it.”
taken aback, peter gives him a dirty look, mayday mirroring him at an instant. it takes a lot of courage from miguel to calm down, most specifically at his fourth pizza slice, just so he could turn his head to peter and feign a smile. and that’s all it took for mayday and his dad to move away heartily and grudgeless.
whilst he takes his time crafting your beverage, gwen comes closer, joking to you about miguel, “uh, you think he’s on his period, too?”
shrugging, your nose crinkles as you smile. “i have somewhat of an influence on him.”
“no shit, he managed to let out a smile after being fed with food.”
“that’s miguelito for you.”
“he’s had this period for life,” she snorts.
a cup, full of everything you love and looking as scrumptious as ever, is abruptly set down in front of you.
“all this—” miguel starts, waving a hand between you both, “—slander ‘bout me.” he webs a chair from behind you, grabbing it, and seats himself to your left.
gwen suddenly becomes busy with her phone.
leaning forward, face mere inches from yours, he scans your eyes, mouth, hands—everything—with concern written all over his own features. you’re staring at him back, head leaning onto your shoulder as the slightest wave of fatigue washes over you.
as delicate fine strokes on a portrait, his eyebrows raise at this. and you understand him, but you shake your head anyway.
he asks to confirm, “estás bien?”
“angry, then hungry, now concerned,” gwen notes, “what’s next?”
miguel gives gwen a light scowl, unintentionally at that.
she exclaims, tapping away on her phone, “one little comment!”
“leave hiiim,” you drag out, ending with a giggle. the pad of your thumb reaches out for his chin, grazing over as you feel his warmth under your touch. a few more moments of silence hangs between the two of you like this. “he’s just being sweet.”
evening dawns on you soon enough, work finished and tiring you and your limbs out extensively. dinner was an hour ago, and both you and miguel stand near the bannister situated at the balcony back at home, witnessing tonight’s nightfall.
you’ve been lucky enough for your cramps to have subsided in the past half hour—not that you’ve really noticed, but at least miguel has.
the sun bathes in the sky filled with shades of oranges and reds as it descends ever so slowly—that’s what you’re marvelling at though.
miguel knows best to take every moment he can to admire you, every chance he gets to be in his delicate daydream. all up to the point your pain is disguised by the smallest eyebrow furrow, he’s quick to scurry behind you. and there he stands, encircling your waist before his palms and fingers massaging over your stomach.
a hum of approval from you is sufficient for him to keep going.
purely for the fun of it, you probe, “never asked you these past few months, but is it not making you bloodthirsty at all?”
miguel frowns, waiting a few moments to see if you’ll dismiss the question, but to no avail. he sighs, “in the nicest way possible as i ask this, muñeca, you want me to?”
“does it though?”
“that’s not the kind of blood i go for.”
your head falls back, snug in his chest. you tease hum further, “no doubt it is.”
he grimaces amusingly.
you snort, “i’m joking, i’m joking.”
he shakes his head, lips turning upwards into a smile as you continue to chuckle. a nip at your neck ebbs away your laughter there and then, turning into something more of a tiny squeal.
you scrunch your nose before taking a deep breath as another cramp aches your abdomen. “keep doing that, you’ll make me bleed from two places.”
he winces.
you hear when he does that, muttering, “big baby.”
“i’ll give you ‘baby’,” he returns playfully, a smirk dancing on his lips as he walks away, facing you still, “with all this teasing, you’ll have no period next month the way you’re going.”
“and what’s that supposed to mean?”
he shrugs, tapping his temple thereafter. “surely, you own the hq with me, you know so much... just keep on thinking.”
no period.
baby?
baby.
“ain’t no way!”
just roughly two weeks later, as expected, a simple winding-down time takes a turn when your hand travels up his thigh. and miguel is miguel—even with his firm hold around your wrist stopping you from trailing ahead, you bite your lip.
“¿qué pasó?”
you retreat little by little, yet the sparkle in your eyes tells him otherwise, igniting the ever-burning flame within him. you’re far from disapproval the second you’re under him, and lucky enough, his smell confirms it.
entangled limbs and deep kisses later, you pull away, grasping his visage in your hands. it takes you by surprise, the way his eyes glimmer and shine, resembling the colour of cherries.
you manage to confess breathily, “your eyes are so pretty.” angling his head to get a better image of you in the dim light, miguel perceives the cutest smile appearing on your lips. you proceed in a whisper, “can i have them?”
his breathing slows as he takes a brief glance at you, and your gaze doesn’t falter. he doesn’t wait another moment not to kiss you the millionth time, your bottom lip captured between both of his in desperation. three, five, seven seconds into it, when his tongue grazes yours, he feels his fangs emerge, making him pull away just as quickly so he doesn’t hurt you.
“no, nena,” he utters the answer against your lips, smirking, “but your kids can.”
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© devotion - reblog and comment if you enjoyed it! <3 however, do not repost, credited or not, on any other website or platform.
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norrizzandpia · 5 months
Note
hey 🧡 could you please do one with lando where you two just have that very special connection. you’re dating for years already and just became each others home / safe place and everyone around you can see? x
The words of this request are so cute like i love it
Also i ended up merging this with the ski trip 🤭 and a proposal bc what other way to best depict two people being incredibly in love than a proposal?? 😍 (i just want to marry Lando Norris)
Ski Trips and Smiles (LN4)
Summary: Lando and Y/n had been planning this ski trip with their friends for months, so she knows everything on the itinerary. Well, at least, she thinks she does.
Warnings: language, yn falling into snow, yn not being able to snowboard, sexual references, slight smut, they get interrupted tho, max being a weepy baby
Note: the one time im in a marriage mood bc i watched the bachelorette
Lando’s hand shook slightly as it rested in his pocket, clutching the black suede box that he had quadruple-checked was with him before they left the house. He didn’t know what he was doing, crazed and manic in love with the woman beside him. She was asleep, head on his shoulder as the plane moved along, quiet and tranquil because of its privacy.
Max sat across from him, eyeing his best friend as droplets of sweat began to form at the top of his head.
“You okay?” He whispered, gaze shifting to the girl beside Lando, the girl who had been in their lives for six years.
Lando nodded, albeit hesitantly, “Yeah, fine.”
Max’s eyebrows furrowed together, “Really? Because the sweat stains on your shirt say otherwise. It’s like sixty degrees in here, mate.”
The Brit’s eyes shifted to catch his shirt, the material soaked through around his chest and armpits. His eyes widened, “Oh shit. Fuck. How do I fix this? She’ll know something’s up.”
Max shook his head with a teasing smile on his face, “Don’t say anything, but I figured this would happen. I packed some quadrant shirts from the new line in my backpack for you. I can get one right now if you want?”
Lando breathed a sigh of relief, “Max, holy shit, thank you. Thank you. But, no. I’ll wait a few hours. Until it gets closer to her waking up. I don’t want to sweat through the new ones too.”
Max hummed in agreement, letting silence take the moment once more.
However, the boy felt sympathy for Lando, the nervousness that was clearly wracking his body at the impending ask, so he tried to reassure him, “Lando, you have got to chill, mate. It’s going to be fine. She’s going to say yes.”
Lando’s frantic eyes bounced around, “But, what if she doesn’t? What if I’ve built this all up in my head and she actually doesn’t want to marry me. I’d rather be her boyfriend for the rest of my life than take a chance and ask her to be my wife and have her leave me.”
Max chuckled, “Sometimes, I wish you could see yourself in other people’s eyes. You’d take one look at yourself right now and immediately talk about how outrageous and ridiculous you sound. You two have been together for six years, Lando. Six years. Let that sink in. Six birthdays, six Christmases, a multitude of times she’s been there for you, 130 Grand Prix, an overwhelming amount of time spent building you back up after racing took you down. She’s been a constant. You know that, Lando. You’ve lived through it. This is just making all that permanent.”
Lando moved his head to stare at her sleeping face, her closed eyes and slowly rising chest making his heart fill with a specific kind of love he had only ever felt for her, and smiled softly, “Maybe you’re right.”
“Of course, I am.” Max gave, laughing airily.
Lando’s hand came to cradle her head, nudging it toward his mouth so he could plant his lips in her hair, whispering, “Maybe you’ll be right.”
Her laughing could be heard in the distance as Lando continued to ski toward her. Her head was face planted in the snow, hands messily placed beside her with her foot shoved in the snow, and, even with all the cold she was most likely feeling, the contagious sound filtered through the air and imprinted itself under Lando’s skin. Whether he got chills from the cool temperatures or the sound of her, he didn’t know. He would like to think it was her, though.
Lando rounded around her body, coming to a complete stop with snow spraying behind him as he fell to the ground.
“Y/n! Are you hurt?” His hands, covered in gloves, gently moved her body to sit up, a smile still gracing her face after the accident.
Her cheeks were flushed as she looked up at him with a mischievous grin and Lando was sure his heart stopped beating. Her beauty was a kind that was subtle, not truly reaching its full potential until she was laughing or smiling and only then blowing you away with such vigor, it took the air from your lungs. Sparkles in her eyes and soft features, Lando always felt a soft kind of feeling burst within him whenever she blessed him with her gaze. He remembered the first time he caught her sight. She had been a vision in a red dress at the gala his dad had forced him to go to. He remembered watching her as she floated across the floor, wondering how someone who looked his age could act with such elegance, and being completely enamored with the woman she already was at 18. He was obsessed, unwilling to look away, and when she looked back, he learned what it was like to be truly awestruck. Suddenly, she had grown shy under their staring and, when he approached her, the two of them had been a bundle of stuttering nerves. Lando later learned that the change in her demeanor was because of her already knowing his name at that point, already having a crush on him. He found it cute then and he still did now as she looked at him with the same light eyes she did that night. The same gaze she shot him every night, everyday, and every moment since they got together those six years before.
“No,” She shook her head at him, waving her hand in his face as she tried to get back on her feet. When she plopped back down, he laughed at her, apologizing quickly after when she looked at him like a lost puppy. He stood up before her, looming over her sprawled out body before bending his knees and reaching out for her arms. His strong, large hands clutched her biceps as he hoisted her off the ground, pulling her into him and successfully getting her to a stand.
Their skis clanged together at their feet, but the noise didn’t interrupt him from leaning down and pecking her cold lips. He smiled under her reciprocated kisses, blushing over her affection and providing some sense of warmth for their smashed-together faces. They stayed kissing each other sweetly off to the side of the run, wrapped in the other’s arms and completely removed from the world around them. That was typically how it was for them, alone in their own world and completely enthralled with the other.
Six years and that had never changed.
And Lando hoped that wouldn’t change for the rest of their lives.
“Oil! Stop fucking on the ski run!” Max screamed as he passed them, goggles on as he zoomed past. Lando moved his head to the side, giving his girlfriend a perfect view of his stellar jawline.
He yelled back, still tangled in her arms, “Shut up! Thank you!”
Y/n giggled at the two best friends, still surprised at some points by their antics.
He returned to her, head tilted down to lovingly gaze upon her, “How about we finish this run and then we can go back to the lodge? Maybe get a drink or two?”
His eyebrows wobbled, she knew what he meant, and she was quick to hit his chest, “Lando! We are with your friends. They are literally staying in the same room with us.”
He scoffed, “There’s a door! It’s like Max’s and I’s old apartment. We used to fuck in my room all the time.”
She rolled her eyes, “That was different.”
“Why?”
He hardened his gaze at her, challenging the argument she was clearly losing. He smiled triumphantly when she huffed his arms and wiggled out of his hold, “Fine! If you make it down to the end before me, we can go at it!”
His jaw fell open as she began to ski away, giggles ensuing and a sound that echoed in his ear even after she was out of hearing range. When he became unvexed by the sounds he adored to a concerning level, he pushed off and began racing down the hill.
When he passed her, he just smiled knowingly at her and thought of the things they would get up to that night.
Lando’s kisses splayed across her stomach sensually as his hands toyed with the hem of her shoulders. Her quiet, breathy moans turned him on to the point he had to rut his hips against the mattress to gain a small amount of relief.
“Like that, baby?” He asked as his hands traced her pussy over her underwear.
She whimpered in return, hands clutching his hair as she stared at the wall in anticipation.
He hitched her legs over his shoulders, burying himself between the thighs that he dreamt of continuously. Whether they were having sex or not, he always found this spot to be quite comfortable. He couldn’t count how many times he had come home from a race to lay in between her legs with his head resting on the low part of her stomach.
She moved her hips closer to his mouth, his hot breath reminding her of the presence that was about to take what he wanted. His fingertips danced amongst her skin as he pushed materials to the side and fully disappeared beneath the comforter.
His head moved slowly under the bedsheets, the only thing she could stare at as she felt his tongue begin licking up her slit. She bit her lip, surpassing moans as to not alert Max and Pietra of what was happening a few feet away from them.
She groaned his name, an almost silent chant of the syllables that had him bringing his fingers to her hole.
He gave her one finger, then another, stretching her out and trying to prep her for him. They always had to do this, whether they liked it or not, he always had to get her slick enough to take him. From the moment they first slept together, it was clear she would never be able to fit him without a sting, and that wasn’t because she was tiny.
He continued his ministrations, the comforter moving around as his head popped up from beneath it.
Muffling words from underneath, Lando moaned, “So wet, baby. You ready to take my big-”
“LANDO, WHERE ARE MY GREY SWEATPANTS?!” Max screamed as he burst through the door.
Pietra appeared behind him, a scolding look on her face that told Y/n Max’s girlfriend knew exactly what was going on in their room.
Max, the oblivious one, continued to stalk into the room, not realizing his friend’s position, “Wait, where’s Lando?”
His eyebrows knitted together as he looked down at Y/n in the center of the bed, a horrified look on her face as she struggled to get words out.
“I’m right here.” Lando mumbled, his words cutting the silence in the room and replacing it with tension.
When his hand appeared from the sheets and he moved them up enough so he could peak through, Max stared down at him, “What the fuck are you doing under there?”
Lando didn’t say anything, choosing to look blankly at Max, waiting for him to understand the implications. Y/n watched comically as it dawned on Max, his features slowly falling as his brain caught up, “Oh… oh.”
To add to the horror etched into Max’s face, Lando nodded and wiped at his mouth, making a slurping sound, “Yep, you caught me eating out my girlfriend.”
Y/n yelped, smacking Lando on the shoulder as Max matched her pitch. A girlish scream emitted from the boy and he was quick to turn and bolt out of the room, Pietra following him close behind with a fit of giggles.
He slammed the door shut when his girlfriend was through, yelling throughout the room about how he was done with Lando and his bullshit.
The boy in question had his head smushed into the warm sheet beneath him, laughing loudly at the moment. His bouncing giggles put a smile on Y/n’s face, letting her forget about the embarrassment she had been feeling previously. Her hand disappeared once more in his curls, tugging softly as he continued giggling into the mattress.
When he came up for a breath, his eyes were red and there was a shimmer beneath them, “Are you crying?!” She laughed, Lando nodding in response as the two leaned into each other, giggling and giggling and giggling.
Their shoulders touched as they keeled over together, Lando gripping her hand as he tried to regain his composure. When it died down, Lando looked over at her, chuckles still coming from her mouth, and kissed her cheek, “Thank you for laughing with me.”
Y/n was about to question his statement, wondering the sentiment and countering it with how funny the situation had been. However, when she met his eyes, the words took on a different meaning. Suddenly, she understood what he meant.
Thank you for continuing to laugh with me.
Thank you for always laughing with me.
The statement was a silent promise of the future. Their future together.
Just, Y/n thought, when would it start?
The rooftop of the hotel was filled with bustling adults, glasses clanking together as people joined in boisterous conversation. Lando’s arm around her waist and his whispers in her ear, Y/n felt the love surrounding her that evening.
With their close friends sitting beside them at the dinner table and Lando’s hand on her thigh, she looked around to find everything she could ever possibly need for the rest of her life.
That must’ve translated in her eyes because Lando was leaning down to murmur, “You okay, love? You seem dazed.”
She smiled at him, his heart stopping unsurprisingly, and murmured back, “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m just really happy to be here.”
He pulled back, a large grin on his face, before he began to stand up, “Let’s make you a bit happier then, yeah?”
She was confused by his words, but couldn’t question it as he began dinging his knife against his glass, quieting the conversations around the table and bringing his friends attention to him.
She stared up at him as he began speaking, “I just have a few things to say and then we can all go back to getting drunk.” He laughed, agreeing noises being thrown out by their friends, “First, I would just like to thank all of you for just setting your busy schedules aside to be here for a little commencement trip of the winter break. This season has been one of fun, especially with the fact that Y/n was able to make it to every race,” He looked down at her, grinning softly before he caught Max’s knowing eyes, “I cherish that, love. Anyways, so, thank you for that. The second thing is something I’ve been wanting to do for way too long, but never gained the courage. Oh, thank you to everyone for helping me plan what I’m about to do. I should probably say that before I actually do it.”
Y/n sat up in her chair, looking around to see everyone nodding at him as if they understood what he was saying. She looked to Pietra, the girl already looking at her and sent her a questioning face. Pietra just shook her head with a smile as she pulled out her phone and pointed it at the couple. Y/n’s head tilted, lost in confusion and not listening to what Lando was saying before he nudged her lovingly and forced her to look at him.
“Y/n, you’ll probably want to pay attention to this next part.” He chuckled, but she saw the way his forehead creased. He was nervous. She couldn’t understand why he was nervous.
He sat back down his chair beside her, turning his body so he could fully face her and grabbing her hands to hold in his. His piercing green eyes caught hers and didn’t let her go, “Y/n, we’ve been together for six years. Six years that you’ve helped me to find who I am as a person. Six years as you’ve made me realize the man I want to be, especially to you. Six years that you’ve spent putting up with me and all the stressful things I get us into. But, most importantly, six years you’ve spent loving me. When I first saw you at that gala, I was so incredibly struck by you. Not just by your appearance, you’re very beautiful, baby, don’t get me wrong, but there’s so much more to you that meets the eye and I knew that that night. I was struck by the way you held yourself, how strong you are and how kind you are to everyone around you. You’re consistently showing me the kind of human being I want to be and every day I try to live my life by making decisions you would. You’ve been a guidance for me and I can’t thank you enough for that, especially when I was struggling in my beginning years of F1. It’s not something I can say to you every day, but I hope you know how much you’ve improved my life since you’ve been in it. Ask anyone here, I’ve never laughed more, smiled more, or felt as happy as I do when I’m with you. You’ve brought such brightness into my life and I want you to know it’s because you are a light. To everyone here might I add. A light. That’s what pushed me to ask you out, to continue to fight for you, for us because the kind of joy you’ve given me just by being yourself has completely flipped my world upside down. That’s what pushes me to do what I’m about to do next.”
Y/n’s hands shook in his as she watched Lando move his chair and get down on one knee before her. By now, tears were streaming down her face at the realization of what was to come. By now, the entirety of the rooftop had turned to see the spectacle.
Lando Norris getting engaged.
He looked up at her, something he didn’t get to do often, and removed one of his hands to pull the box from his pocket. When he opened it, Y/n cried harder, taking his head in her hands and kissing him harshly.
He laughed at her, kissing her back before mumbling, “Baby, baby, let me get through it?”
She chuckled through the wetness coating her face and nodded, “Please,”
He moved the ring higher, presenting it to her as if it was the most important thing. She wondered when he would realize he was the most important thing.
“I don’t want to know anyone else. I don’t want to love anyone else. I don’t want to share my life with anyone else, but you, Y/n. I want it to be you. Only you. For the rest of my life. Forever and ever and ever, be my wife?” He said through a smile and choked voice, glistening appearing in his eyes as he stared up at his love.
She sobbed, screaming, “YES, LAN! YES! OH MY GOD, YES! YES!”
She lurched forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and nuzzling into the skin there. His hands gripped her body as they cried into each other, whispering soft words of adoration and love.
“I love you so much.” He said, squeezing her tightly as the restaurant erupted into applause and whoops of cheer.
“I love you too, Lan,” She said back, three words that would never have to go unsaid for the rest of their days.
When they pulled back and Lando slid the ring onto the designated finger, they turned to their table. What they found were weeping faces and large smiles as everyone clapped at the success of their plan.
Max blew his nose at the head of the table, Lando and Y/n laughing at him as Pietra rubbed his back.
“You okay down there?” Lando said with a smile as he watched his best friend.
Max stood from his chair and ran over to the newly engaged couple, shouting words of happiness, “I’m just so happy for you guys! Six years, I’ve been waiting for this! And Lando, you were so nervous and I’m just so happy it worked out. Congratulations! I didn’t expect to get this emotional. I’m just so happy that you’ve found someone to love you even with how horrifically annoying you are!” He rambled, hugging them tightly and continuing to blot at his face.
Lando pulled back, “‘Horrifically annoying’?”
Max nodded, “Yes, and look at her! She loves you for you! I’m so proud of you guys!” He wept again, not addressing the way Lando scrunched his nose up at the insult.
Max pulled them into a hug once more, stuffing his face between the two as Lando and Y/n were left to jokingly comfort him. From over his shoulder, Lando whispered to his fiancée, “Am I really horrifically annoying?”
She shook her head, “Horrifically? No. Annoying, though? Mmm, maybe.” She giggled and smiled at him.
That smile, stopping his heart, made her calling him annoying hurt less. That smile was his everything. That girl was his everything.
Oh, Lando was so gone for her and the ring on her finger just told him he could continue to get lost in her.
For the rest of their lives.
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hopesworlld · 1 month
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౨ৎ only you, my girl, only you, babe
Tumblr media
౨ৎ 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 — jealous!anakin x fem!reader
౨ৎ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 — you can't leave anakin, you just can't, he won't survive it
౨ৎ 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 — 1k
౨ৎ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — swearing, jealous!ani, arguing, crying, using sex as a means to make up, smut ( dry humping, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, mentions of oral f receiving ) think that’s all !
౨ৎ 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘀 ! — he's so whiny, i want him
part two part three masterlist
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"baby, please, just tell me what you were doing talking to him," anakin pleaded, his face tight with tension as he followed you though your shared apartment.
"ani, he's my friend i've known him since uni," you groaned, entering your bedroom, "we literally lived together for three years why are you being like this?" you questioned, turning to face him with narrowed eyes, watching as anakin's face dropped, he pinched the bridge of his nose, glasses sliding down as he pouted at you.
“i saw how he looked at you, how he hugged you…” he said and you shook your head, frustration welling in your chest as you watched anakin’s hands twitch, lips trembling.
“oh my god, anakin, he literally just hugged me, we are good friends you are being ridiculous,” you told him, turning around and walking over to your wardrobe, pulling out some more comfortable clothes to wear around the house, you loved anakin with every fiber of your being, but you couldn’t help but feel trapped when he got like this, so possessive and needy, acting as though everyone in the world was against him.
“baby, you know i’m not mad at you,” anakin began but you span around, eyes hard and voice like ice as you spoke to him.
“you’re not?” you spat, “oh, you aren’t mad at me for absolutely nothing? well thank you, anakin, i really fucking appreciate it,” anakin’s eyes went glassy, sniffling wetly, gaze falling to his feet.
“baby, i’m sorry,” anakin whimpered, tears rolling down his golden cheeks, “please don’t be mad at me,” he begged but you simply ignored him, you felt bad, you always did when anakin cried, he was such a sensitive soul, so desperate for approval, for your love, he had never felt like enough, never felt that he deserved you and it made your heartache but you couldn't keep feeding into his jealousy.
you went about doing what you were doing, tugging your shirt off and replacing it with a soft t-shirt, an old one you had, had since you were a teenager belonging to your father, before tugging down your skirt and slipping on a pair of shorts, the motions were soothing to you as you listened to anakin cry, something to distract yourself.
“baby,” anakin whined, “don’t ignore me, please, please, talk to me,” he came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, burning his wet face into your neck, “i love you, i love you so much, please don’t ignore me,” you sighed, relaxing slightly in his hold. “baby?” he whispered, planting butterfly kisses along the side of your neck, paying extra attention to your sweet spot just bellow your jaw.
“ani,” you said gently, “you can’t keep doing this,” you scolded lightly, heart clenching when anakin sniffled, clinging to you tighter, arms a secure weight around your hips.
“i know, baby, i’m so so sorry, i don’t wanna hurt you, please, just don’t leave me,” he begged and you could feel his cock hardening against your back as he began to grind on you, short little thrusts that brought a swell of heat into your stomach.
“ani,” you sighed, “i’m not gonna leave you, angel, you just need to stop getting so upset every time i talk to another guy, i only want you,” you told him and anakin melted.
“yea?” he asked you, beginning to grind against you harder, little gasps falling from his lips, “only me?” he whispered.
“yes, ani, you i promise,” you said, a small groan escaping you when anakin pressed himself harder against you, cock brushing against your clothed cunt, “fuck, ani,”
“am i making you feel good, baby? tell me, baby, do you like it?” he asked, rutting harder against you, exhaling harshly against the back of your neck, he was still whimpering, tears flooding down his cheeks as he pleaded with you.
“yes, so good, ani,” you promised him as he began to tug at your shorts with needy hands, pulling them down along with your panties exposing you cunt to the cold air, you shuddered but it wasn’t long before anakin was sinking his fingers into your sopping heat, opening you up for him. you hissed at the sensation, cocking your hips back against him.
“i’m the only one that can make you feel like this,” anakin said, “only me, promise me,” he begged, thrusting his fingers harsher, and you moaned at the stimulation tilting you head back to rest on anakin’s shoulder.
“i promise, angel, only you can make me feel this good,” you stammered out and anakin sobbed, you heard him shuffling behind you, pulling his cock free from his jeans, he hardly gave you a second to think before he was tugging his fingers from your pussy and replacing them with his cock, he didn’t give you time to adjust, thrusting into you harshly, groaning at the feeling of your cunt cleanching around his throbbing cock.
“baby, oh fuck, feel so good wrapped around me,” anakin told you, gently pressing at your back so that you were bent over, one hand secured around your waist holding you in place while the other was holding you down, you hissed at the new position, the angle allowing anakin to sink deeper into you, cock head brushing against your cervix.
“fuck, ani, just like that,” you praised and anakin’s hips jolted, “doing so good for me, just like that,” you said, eyes fluttering shut as anakin continued to fuck into you with needy whines, chasing his relief as well as yours, one of your hands fell to your clit, swirling your index finger around the bundle of nerves in a figure eight pattern, you knew anakin wouldn’t last long when he was worked up like this this and it would break him if you didn’t cum, last time that had happened he had eaten you out until you were sobbing, tears streaming down your cheeks and hips shaking with overstimulation.
“fuck, baby, so wet,” anakin said, “god, this pussy was made for me, we fit so good together,” anakin told you, “no one else could get your pussy this wet, make you feel so good,” his words were becoming mindless blabber as he drew closer to his orgasm, you could feel his cock twitching inside of you, “mine, all mine,” he said, and you nodded along, mind becoming fuzzy from pleasure.
“yours, ani, all your’s,” you promised, cunt cleanching as you drew closer, the sensation of anakin pumping deep inside if you and the stimulation on your clit enough to send you over the edge.
“yes, yes, fuck, never leave me, never ever, never,” anakin commanded though his voice was squeaky, high pitched as you felt his hips stutter, “i’m gonna cum,” he cried out.
“that’s it, come for me, ani, wanna feel you cum, angel, fill me up,” you told him breathily, thrusting you hips back to meet him and anakin was gone, his thrusts were erratic before he spilled into your pussy, filling you up with his seed. you moaned, the feeling of his hot cum flooding your insides enough to send you spiralling, a scream falling from your lips as you clenched around anakin’s cock, milking him of every last drop before going lax in his hold.
“i love you,” anakin whispered, “i love you so much,”
“i love you too, ani,” you replied, letting him tug you towards the bed, collapsing down together in a mess of limbs.
“don’t ever leave me, okay?” anakin said, and you nodded.
“never, i’m yours,” you promised.
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i kinda hate this but i wanted to write some whiny ani so hope you enjoyed !
tags: @johnbassplayercutie
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