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inthelquvre · 2 months

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GET HIM BACK! — luke castellan

content: enemies w benefits, mentions of sex, really short so part 2?????, unedited

a/n: based off of this post: )

You hated Luke.

Hate wasn’t even strong enough. Loathe. Despise. Detest. Regretted ever speaking with him in the first place.

He was too cocky, too stupid, too good at swordsmanship, too nice to the younger kids, too handsome… The list goes on.

Yet you often found yourself laid underneath his toned body with tangled limbs and hot breaths.

Even after almost being caught one to many times after leaving a black lace bra on the ground behind Aphrodites cabin, or the violet patches growing along your collarbone and neck, or the lipstick smudged on Luke’s face that was only known to be worn by one girl in camp. You.

But at least the two of you were fairly well at hiding the attraction you shared for each other. It was easy to hate him. And he played the part of the whipped yet cocky boy phenomenally.

It was just a part, you thought.

He was almost too good at excusing the Ares boy who offered to partner up with you during sparring, too good and giving him a tight smile, too good and not-so-subtly shoving shoulder with the boy, and always too good and making you feel like and idiot when you were pinned under his body, faces inches apart like you had been so many times before, only this time there was an audience.

“Get off me.” You seethed, squirming to no end. Luke’s hand were expertly pinned against your own. A stupid smile on his face. He was too pretty to also be nice.

He gave a small shrug. “I could,” A cocky look you knew all too well. “Or I could watch you squirm…” He whispered just quiet enough so the younger campers trying to learn from the two best counselors couldn’t hear.

You kicked a leg up, trying your best to keep Luke’s strong gaze under your control. But the swordsman always seemed to be one step ahead of you, one hand reaching down and grabbing the inside of your lower thigh and holding it in place. “Cmon, don’t be like that.” his voice was still soft, the memory of the night before flooded your brain like a thunderstorm.

“I’m seriously, seriously, gonna kill you, Luke.” He laughed, which only caused you to bit the air just and inch from his nose. “Just wait until-“

“Until what? Until tonight?”

“Oh, Gods-“

“Campers!” Chirons powerful voice sounded through the training arena. a few of the younger kids jumped at the noise, other took a step closer to their older siblings. “Is there a problem here?” You took the moment where Luke broke eye contact as an opportunity to push him off of you, causing him to roll over before straightening himself out for Chiron.

“No, Sir, me and my friend here were just showing everyone some new moves.” He winced as you pinched the skin in his neck, not ignoring the way a greenish bruise was showing under his bright orange shirt. Your face suddenly got red, could everyone else see them too?

Luke’s hand flew back to grab your own, expertly disguising the move as an itchy neck. He held your hand in his own for a second, giving it a tight squeeze. You winced. He immediately let go.

“Well, in that case, I hope you’re actually teaching something.” Chiron answered with a narrow eye. The kids on the sidelines giggled to each other. You silently wished Luke hadn’t been so difficult and just let the Ares boy spar with you instead of causing a huge scene.

Luke, yet again, took her hand and dragged you forward. Side by side, you two looked like the golden couple of Camp Half-Blood. “Of course, always up to learning knew things, right?” he smiled at Chiron once, then you. Leaving only a wink to keep you company.

Later that day you found yourself in the mess hall, poking and prodding at the not so appealing food that sat on your tray. Your sibling sat herself beside you, telling her side of the incident at the area just hours before. “I saw the way Luke grabbed your hand, he’s so sly. Sly little fox… Cute, too. Definitely handsome…” she rambled, only stopping when she realized you were barely listening, focused on something, or rather someone else across the mess hall. “Oh… you dirty dog!” she exclaimed.

“What? What are you talking about?” You asked as you fixed your gaze back at your sister who was smiling the same was Luke did after proving you wrong.

She shoved your shoulder. “Be serious, you think he’s cute.”

Somehow, somehow, Luke found himself staring at you while Chris blabbered in next to him. Your eyes locked and you could practically feel your heart beat out of your chest. He raised an eyebrow, only smirking when he realized just exactly why you were looking at him. You could practically hear the sound of his cocky voice saying: “Ohh…” in your ear. While glaring at him, he took the opportunity to blow an endearing yet annoying kiss in your direction.

“Oh!” Your sister smacked your arm playfully. “Oh… I could definitely see this, I can see the vision…” She pondered as Luke laughed to himself after seeing you go red.

You were going to get him back.

#luke castellan #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan pjo #luke hive rise #RISEEE

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goldenbuckyyy · 2 years

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HEATHER

Summary: You watch Draco fall in love with someone else.

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader (friends with benefits)

Word Count: 3.5kish

Warnings: Swearing, angst, SMUT(18+), implied past sexual experiences, fingers fucking (!!), dumb idiots in love, anything else? Let me know!!

A/N: My first Draco fic!!! Writing this fic was slowly a 1k fic then quickly became over 3k!! Eeeekkk!! I love this. Hope you do as well!!!! I also got this idea by listening to “Heather” by Conan Gray!

All mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other side nor this one.

I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You walk, no run, into potions class as you stumble into your seat next to your best friend as you apologize quietly to professor Slughorn whom only hums in response as he continues to explain what potion is assigned for the day. You zone out his voice as you set down your books and proceeded to adjust your skirt down as you feel eyes on your thighs, like always, and you try not to look at those pretty grey eyes. You pull your robes over your legs.

You let out a sigh as you tug on the sleeves of your sweater as you peer at your best friend who is already starting to mix ingredients together which you notice include one ashwinder egg, three rose thorns, some peppermint, a powered moonstone, and quite a bit of pearl dust.

You rack your brain for what potion this was as you were fairly good in potions class. Maybe even a bit exceptional.

Your best friend smiles down at you, his pearly whites showing, as you watch him mix the ingredients.

“Like what you see?”

You blush slightly as you roll your eyes at him, “Shut it, Draco.”

He smirks as a blue-green tinted spiraling steam starts coming out of the cauldron.

You sniff as you tense up when you realize what potion this is.

“Amortentia,” you whisper as Draco nods at you as he leans in to smell the potion.

You close your eyes as you inhale the sweet scent of fresh cut apples with hints of cinnamon and vanilla, pine trees in the fall, and whiffs of sweet red wine on Christmas Eve.

All which is what Draco smells like to you.

You stiffen up as you peer open your eyes, scared that he noticed you leaning more into him, and watch as he smiles with his eyes closed as he sniffs the air.

Your scared to even ask him what he smells. You know it your gut that he’s not smelling you and it kills you.

You slowly let your eyes wonder to your other classmates as they all gush to each other about what they are smelling. You see Hermione explaining what she smells and notice how she also tenses up when she reveals the scents. Nobody else notices.

Draco opens his eyes and he quietly snickers to himself as if he is laughing at his own inside joke.

“What do you smell?” You ask quickly before you regret it. You grip your wrist in each hand as you lean into him once again.

He bites his lip and smiles, “I smell fresh lilies, lavender, and a hint of some type of fruit. I can’t place it.”

Your heart drops as you realize that’s not what you smell like as you try to keep your face neutral.

You bet that’s what Heather Umbridge smells like.

You peer over Draco’s shoulder slightly to try to catch a glimpse of her.

There she is.

She’s laughing and swatting her friends hand away as she pushes her jet black hair away from her pale face.

You see as her blue eyes keep looking over at you and Draco. Your heart breaks even more as you think about how she’s probably smelling the same scent as you.

“Is she looking at me?” Draco asks you in a whisper as you met his eyes. He has a smile on his face.

You can’t lie to him.

You nod and try to give him your best smile.

“She’s never going to go for me when she notices that you’re wearing my sweater,” he says jokingly as he gently tugs on your sleeve.

Your eyes go wide as you look down at your sweater which is in fact his.

Bloody hell.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper as you wish class could end already as you try to avoid his eyes. You know he’s joking, but what if he isn’t?

“It’s the first thing I saw after I showered this morning,” you explain as you face him again and he just rolls his eyes at you.

“I’m joking, love. It’s no problem for me, you know that. It looks better on you either way,” he says shrugging as if it’s no big deal.

But you know it is.

This is your favorite sweater and you know some part of you put it on because you want to make your claim at Draco. Even though in public, you don’t have any right to claim him.

But in some ways... you do.

You have parts of him that nobody else will ever have.

You have his first kiss, his first touch, his first time…

His first moans…

You slightly jump out of your thoughts as professor Slughorn announces class is over as he waves his wand in the air to make all the potions evaporate.

“Can’t have anybody using this,” he jokingly says with his signature chuckle and smile to his students.

You stay sitting as everybody shuffles out of the classroom as Heather walks in front of you and Draco.

You watch Draco as he watches her with hearts in his eyes. He’s mesmerized by her as he smiles dumbly to himself.

You wish he felt that way about you.

She’s a sight and everybody knows it.

She walks in her Slytherin colored robes. It looks as if she’s walking on air. You feel jealousy rush in your veins and you hate the way it makes you feel.

You feel like dying as you look at her and back at Draco.

Was this thing between you guys finally going to end? All the late night kisses and the tangled limbs under emerald green sheets?

All the secret touches?

Your heart was already breaking as you thought about what you’d be losing.

Draco stands up as he waits for you to follow.

You gather your books tightly against your chest as you try to calm your racing heart and anxious mind.

Professor Slughorn leaves the room as he bids you both a goodbye.

It’s only you and Draco left. He stands tall in front of you as he looks at you while he fixes his own robes.

“What?” You ask nervously.

“Don’t what me, Y/N. What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me,” you reply as you start walking out of the classroom and he stops you with his hand on your forearm.

“Are you sure?”

You nod as you look up at him and he lets go of your forearm. He’s still watching your every move carefully and you know his mind must be racing. But he won’t question you any further. He knows you.

“I’ll see you at lunch?”

You nod and close your eyes as you see him leaning down. Your breathing hitches as he gets closer and you wonder if he can hear your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

You feel his soft lips in your cheek as you try not to let your emotions take over.

He rubs your cheek and winks at you once you open your eyes again.

“Are we still on for tonight?”

You know what he means as his hands sneak underneath your robes and itch their way underneath your skirt. You melt into him as he wraps one arm around your waist. He pulls you closer to his body and you set your free hand on his chest.

He inches his hand near your core as you try to suppress yourself. You’ve always been this way to his touch. Always caving.

Always wanting him.

Only him.

His fingers teasingly touch your panties and you know you’re already wet for him.

“Already?” He asks as you feel himself hardening up against you. You nod as he pushes you towards the wall, away from the door, and wandering eyes.

“Always,” you whisper to him as you feel his mouth collide with yours. Your eyes flutter shut as you let his scent intoxicate you. You moan into his mouth while you drop your books to wrap your arms around his neck as he hikes up your leg to feel you more.

His scent blocks out all your other senses as his lips move against yours in an already synchronized rhythm. His kisses always made you feel fuzzy and warm all together. You feel yourself getting wetter as he continues to touch you teasingly over your panties.

You start feeling antsy as you try to rub yourself against his fingers to get more from him. He chuckles into your mouth as he bites your bottom lip.

“Always so inpatient,” he whispers at you as he pulls you closer to him and starts to kiss your neck. You gasp at the feeling as you lean your head back and shut your eyes to let yourself revel in the pleasure.

You bite down on your bottom lip to hold in the moans when you feel his fingers shove your panties aside and slip in between your folds. You grip onto him as he continues to pump his fingers into you as you feel his hidden cock rubbing onto your leg.

“Just like that, baby.” He whispers into your ear as he starts to increase his pace.

“So tight and wet for me,” he says as he sucks on the free skin underneath your robe. You can hear how wet you are as his fingers move inside of you and it only furthers your pleasure.

He continues with his fast speed as he starts to curl his fingers inside of you and you clench onto them. You feel yourself becoming a panting mess as he continues to lick and kiss your neck.

“Draco,” you moan out as you feel yourself getting closer to your release as he starts speeding up both rhythms.

His fingers inside of you go faster and he starts rubbing himself harder against you. Your bodies are both so in synch with each other, as always, and your stomach starts feeling tighter as you both reach for one another’s lips.

You reach down with one of your arms to feel his hardened length and he moans into your mouth when you come in contact with him.

It sends both of you closer to your release as you both start rubbing against each other. His fingers touching your most sensitive area, he muffles out your moans with his mouth, your hand intertwines into his hair, you pull and you see his eyes go back.

You feel his thumb start to rub against your clit and that’s what drives you to your pleasure point. You clench onto his fingers as his thumb rubs against you and you move your hand fast against him.

You bite down on his lip as you cry out in pleasure as you both release against one another. Draco moans into your mouth in pain and sweet pleasure. Your body is shaking to its core as you settle into your release as you let go of his lips, but he pulls you back in with his hand on your neck as he licks into your mouth with force and you melt into him.

You felt numb as he slowly sets your leg down after he pulls his fingers out of you. He watches you as he pulls himself away from your lips. He bites his lip as he pulls his hand in front of both of you.

Your mouth is still agape as you try to slow your panting down as he licks his fingers off. Licking off you.

“Taste so good,” he moans as he gives you a quick kiss.

You bite your lips as your hand is still on his hard cock. You feel the wet spot on his trousers and praise yourself for making him cum like this.

You both come down from your high. You fix yourself up as he adjust his robes to cover his trousers and you snicker to yourself as he shakes his head.

“The things you make me do, Y/N.”

“Do you think anybody heard us?” You ask with a giggle as Draco bends down to pick up your book and hands them back to you.

“I doubt it. This classroom is empty for the next two sessions. But I don’t care if anybody did either way,” he winks at you and you blush at his words.

“I’m glad we have a free period after potions,” you say to him as you both start walking out into the empty hallways.

“Yeah, but now I have class with Heather.”

You feel your heart tug in pain as you look up at him as you both continue to walk. He’s smiling to himself as you feel yourself consumed in hurt.

How can he make you finish like that in empty classroom and then go on to think about Heather? Does he think about her when his fingers are in you??

Your heart breaks silently as you feel tears prick the corner of your eyes.

“Bye, Draco.” You say quickly as you turn into the first corner you see and run into the girls lavatory without letting him say another word to you.

You rush into the farthest stall and fall onto the floor as you clutch onto your books while tears stream down your face.

You gasp in a breathe as you wipe your tears away.

You knew this thing with Draco was never going to last, but it should have never been started in the first place.

It all started back in fifth year when you were both complaining about not having any experience when it came to the opposite sex, but not wanting to be with anybody from school.

No other boy caught your interest other than Draco and Draco found every other girl repulsive.

You already had feelings for Draco back then and you felt as if this was going to be your chance. If you somehow convinced him to be friends with benefits then maybe, just maybe, he’d fall in love with you too.

So thus that’s how you dumbly told Draco that you guys could be friends with benefits, secretly, and experience everything together first so it wouldn’t be weird and awkward to do these things with someone else.

Draco surprisingly agreed with no hesitation and it’s been that way ever since.

Fifth year was when he first kissed you underneath a peach tree at the courtyard in between classes when you two were alone. You both blushed and giggled together after. Fifth year was all about that. It was all learning how to kiss one another and finding the best way to do it.

Sixth year was learning how to do more than kissing. It was more about what to do after kissing. It’s when you both spoke about what else to do and experimented with letting his hands go underneath your skirt and yours above his trousers. It’s when he first made you finish over your panties and he ended up finishing in his trousers. You remember you both couldn’t stop laughing after and during.

It was closer to the end of sixth year when you let him go underneath your panties and you went underneath his boxers. You remember the way you were on his lap, his fingers inside of you, his cock in your hand, and how you both released at the same time that night for the first time.

It was euphoric and wonderful. It was something new for the both of you. You remember the moans he let out that night.

The summer before seventh year, you spent two weeks at the Malfoy manor and that’s when you learned how to make him cum with your mouth and you with his. The feeling was indescribable.

It was also the summer where you lost your virginity to Draco Malfoy. You remember how you both fumbled into the bed on your last night there before you went back home. You remember him asking you repeatedly if you were sure about this.

You remember how he opened you up with his fingers first, slowly and easily, how wet you became and how slowly he entered you the first time. You remember the pain that came at first, how you cried, but then how amazing it felt after.

You remember he never stopped kissing you.

How amazing it felt when he increased his speed inside of you, how you both moved in rhythm, the moans and sounds you both made, the way he moaned out your name and left bruises against your skin, and the way he looked at you when you both finished together again.

That’s how it always was with you two. Always together. Every. Single. Time.

You remember that’s when you realized you were in love with him.

That’s why you had fooled yourself into believe that just maybe he was falling in love with you too.

But then you left back home the next day and when you started seventh year, on the Hogwarts express, Draco told you about how he met Heather Umbridge.

He met Heather Umbridge because of his mother. His mother was friends with Heather’s and she was transferring here from the school of gifted witches. It was some other magic school in the mountains apparently. They had decided to send Heather to Hogwarts after her father got a job with the ministry.

You hated her ever since you heard her name come out of Draco’s mouth. You saw the way his eyes lit up when he said her name and you saw the way he looked at her.

But you still couldn’t end things with him. You knew there were times where they both flirted with each other, but nothing ever came from it. You weren’t sure if it was Heathers hesitation or Draco’s. You doubted it was his.

Now it was nearing Thanksgiving, you and Draco were still doing what you always did and now there was sex involved.

You managed to make it into his bed every night without fail. Draco had managed to gain the title of head boy of Slytherin this year and he got to have this whole gigantic room to himself.

He snuck you in nightly. You wondered how you had managed to fall more in love with him each day and somehow he never did?

You wipe your tears away as you think about everything. You sniffle as you feel so stupid to ever think Draco Malfoy would ever fall in love with you.

All you were to him was somebody to warm his bed every night.

Or at least that’s what you believed.

***

Draco watches you run away from him and wonders if he should run after you.

He doesn’t.

He walks to the courtyard and stands underneath his favorite peach tree, the same peach tree where he kissed you one night back in fifth year.

He remembers how nervous he was back then and how he wondered if you would kiss him back that night.

You did and he laughed at how nervous he was after. You both did.

He sits on the bench under the tree and places his hand on the cold stone, where you always sit, and wonders if maybe one day you would see him the way he sees you.

He didn’t want to keep up this facade that he wanted Heather Umbridge, he felt repulsed just thinking about maybe wanting someone else, someone other than you.

After he met Heather, he felt it would be a good plan to make it seem as if he was interested in someone else. He wanted to see if he could make you jealous.

He wanted to make you jealous because he was in love with you.

He didn’t think you felt the same way.

That’s why he lied about what he smelled in the cauldron earlier during potions class.

He said he smelled lilies and lavender because he knew that’s what Heather smelled like because he caught a whiff of her shampoo one day when she sat next to him in lunch. He hated lilies and lavender.

He didn’t even see you react to what he said and it made his heart deflate.

He wonders what you had smelled because you looked so tense and sad about whatever it was. He wonders about what scent engulfed you and he felt jealousy in the pit of his stomach.

He wants to tell you what he smelled. He wants to yell it at you. He wants you to know what engulfed his senses and made him want to get on his knees for it.

He had smelled you.

You smelled like a warm Christmas night. You smelled like fresh baked caramel cookies with a warm vanilla candle on, you smelled like a new bottle of your favorite red wine that would stain your lips after a couple drinks, you smelled like everything he loved all put into one.

You smelled like love to Draco Malfoy.

He sighs as he plays with his fingers as he notices students filling the hallway, once again, and he knows it’s time for his next class.

He lets himself think a little bit more. He thinks maybe it’s time to move on from you.

He truly doubts you’d ever love him back.

#draco malfoy x y/n recs #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy angst #slytherin #draco malfoy reds #hogwarts #hogwartsAU #draco malfoy x fem!reader #draco lucius malfoy #draco fic #draco x reader fic #draco malfoy x y/n fic #draco x y/n smut

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just-a-girl-who-wrytes · 7 months

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Omg I just accidently found your blog and I'm so freaking happy, cause there are not enough writer who writes for Deacon 😭 unfortunately I'm super obsessed with him, with an unhealthy amount of fic ideas in my brain xD so I give it a try and send you one of those, hopefully jot annoying you with this (or with my shitty English, it's not my first language, so I'm sorry).

Well buckle up for my request:

Reader is a new Swat member and instantly everybody loves her, with her bubbly friendly self. She's bonding great with her teammates and especially her and Deacon grow super close (they develop feelings for each other but don't want to tell the each other afraid to ruin their friendship, so their feelings stay hidden). When one day a case goes sideways and it leaves her injured (maybe a concussion or something like that) Deacon blames himself for her injury and the next days he distances himself from her, cause he thinks that it is unhealthy for him to have such deep feelings for her and him constantly worrying for her wellbeing. She notices his change of behavior and she's super sad. He starts to being unfriendly to her and being a little bit of an ass?! Even alerting the other members with his behavior. The whole situation is taking a toll on her and she is starting to effecting not only her poor heart but also her health. (so maybe she falls sick, but keep it from her teammates especially Deacon, cause she thinks that after her injury during a case he thinks of her as not capable or something like that). That is until one day she doesn't show up to work which very uncommon for her, cause she's always on time and the first one at the station. They're all worrried and Hondo tells Deacon that he has to drive to her apartment. Well he tries to refuse and send Stress but Hondo insists, so Deacon drives to her apartment. He finds her suffering from a very high fever..... So maybe with a happy ending like Deacon regrets his shitty behavior, she instantly cries when she recognizes him in her feverish state, asking him why he hates her suddenly, which is now breaking his heart. He cares for her and nurses her back to health, or at first tries to bring her fever down. Later he confesses why he was an asshole.

Soooorry it's so long. There's so pressure for you to write this. Maybe you just want to use some ideas? Well I would be so happy.

Please take care lovely

Here you go, hope you enjoy!

“Nice!” Luca exclaimed as the team watched you send rounds down range from your firearm.

With the increase in officer related shootings, LAPD had decided to provide each team a SWAT medic and you were the newest member of 20 squad.

“Who knew girls can shoot?” You heard Deacon asked. You turned to playfully scowl at him and noticed him wink at you.

“Better watch it, Kay, or I’ll show you just how good I really am.”

You had been a part of the team for just over two months and they were the best guys you had ever worked with in your career. You truly became a part of their family – you had their backs and they had yours. There was one that was different though.

David Kay.

You had noticed him watching you on more than one occasion, stealing winks from you, sharing small, flirtatious smiles. You weren’t sure if your attraction to him was mutual or not, but if you had to guess, you would say yes. However, you didn’t want to complicate anything by dating one of your teammates and you didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had developed with Deacon. You assumed Deacon adopted the same mindset because he never brought it up either.

However, that didn’t mean your flirting with each other fell on blind eyes.

The entire team noticed it and often gave you both shit over it.

You both were in the middle of denying another teasing round of friends with benefits accusations from your teammates when you were dispatched to a school shooting.

The mood immediately sobered up as all of you put on your gear and grabbed your bags and firearms. The ride to the school in Black Betty was quiet minus updates from Hondo.

“Stay liquid, guys,” He told the team as you pulled up on scene.

There were multiple reports of injured children inside of the school.

This call was all yours.

It was going to be your job to go inside and assess each injured child to see how critically injured they were. It was your team’s job to protect you while you did that. You were going in without any knowledge of where the shooter was, but you knew if you had children, you would want someone to go in and save your baby. You swallowed your fear and prepared to do your job.

You got out of the armored truck and took your spot in the middle of your team. You slowed your breathing down to get your heart rate under control and keep your emotions in check.

Deacon made sure that he stayed close to you as you entered the school. He knew his teammates would have your back too, but he felt… differently about you. He cared about you a lot. He had quickly fallen for your smile and your personality. You didn’t let the team’s banter intimidate you one bit from the start. You were quick and witty with your playfulness with them. You were smart as hell when it came to medicine and you had proven to be a solid member of the SWAT team in training exercises and on calls you had run together. He wanted so badly to ask you out to dinner, but he wasn’t willing to change the dynamic of the team by adding a relationship to the mix. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be protective over you – whether you noticed it or not.

That was why Deacon had taken it so personally when you were knelt down, applying a tourniquet to a fourth-grade student’s leg and got shot by the hidden gunman. His team covered him while he immediately turned to you to make sure you were okay. The round had struck your vest, but you knew it had broken ribs. The pain you felt in your side was unmistakable. Regardless, you threw your body over the child’s to protect her from the gunfire that ensued. Deacon and Luca dragged you both behind a desk behind a wall in a classroom.

“Are you okay?” Deacon asked without taking his aim from the door way.

“We’ve got to get her out of here.” You ignored his question as you continued to try and stop the little girl’s bleeding.

Your voice was forced and you were breathy.

“I asked if you were okay,” Deacon said angrily.

“I’m fine.” You retorted.

You soon heard Tan’s voice over the radio that the shooter had been neutralized. You didn’t know if there was more than one shooter, but didn’t see any signs of one so far. When you got the clear from Hondo, you radioed for another team to come in and get the girl out and get her to a hospital. Once she was safely removed, you resumed your formation in the middle of the team to continue to clear the school building. Deacon could tell you were injured because you didn’t shoulder your firearm correctly, but he didn’t see any blood so he let it go. He was pissed off at you for not stopping and going to get help yourself, but he was even more pissed off at himself for not seeing the gunman before he shot at you.

It took two hours to clear the rest of the school and stabilize the remaining children. By the time you were done, you were visibly diaphoretic and short of breath. You could hardly manage three words without stopping to catch your breath.

“20-David to command,” Deacon radioed, “We need an EMS unit to our location, we have a team member who needs to be checked out.”

You were in pain, you couldn’t breathe, and you were pissed off that Deacon asked for EMS without consulting you first.

“Why did you do that?!” You managed to asked through clenched teeth. “These children need those paramedics.” You took a few shallow breaths, “Not me! Cancel. Them.”

If looks could kill, your sergeant would be the one who needed a medic unit, not you.

“Officer,” Deacon said sternly, “You look like hell and you cannot breathe.”

You started to open your mouth to cut him off, but he started speaking loudly again.

“Now, I suggest you shut up and listen to your sergeant. I am not the one who takes orders from you.”

His harsh words hit you harder than the bullet hit your ballistic vest and left you just as speechless. David had never been so disrespectful to you. If the paramedics hadn’t arrived to assess you, you would have turned in your badge right there. You knew the rest of the team had noticed as well because they were all silent which pissed you off even more. Where was your support?

The paramedics tried helping you onto the stretcher, but you refused it. Despite not being able to speak for being short of breath. You held onto the stretcher for support and walked to the ambulance. By the time you finally made it outside to the ambulance, you were physically unable to get into the ambulance because you were hurting so bad and so short of breath. The EMS providers finally convinced you to get onto the stretcher and they were able to load you into the truck.

When you arrived to the ER, you were taken to a trauma room due to the fact that you had technically been shot. Your chest x-ray revealed a collapsed lung due to the broken ribs.

The rest of the team finished debriefing before being cleared to leave for the day. Hondo met Deacon in the quiet locker rooms since most of everyone else had already left.

“Deac…” Hondo paused, knowing he needed to tread carefully, “What was up back at the school? I have never heard you speak to anyone like that – especially one of our teammates.”

Deacon slammed his locker shut.

“Hondo, now ain’t the time, brother.”

The lieutenant raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, I won’t press, but I do ask that you consider an apology. It was unwarranted today. We all performed immaculately given the circumstances.”

“No, Hondo. No. We did not all perform immaculately.” His tone was biting.

Deacon walked passed Hondo and left the locker rooms. He left the station and threw his duffel bag in the backseat of his truck. He climbed in, started it, and drove to a nearby lake that off the road and would likely be deserted after dark on a week night. He parked in the dark and slammed his fists against the steering wheel in frustration.

Tears filled his eyes as he mentally kicked himself in the ass for missing the shooter that injured you today. He didn’t fight the tears as they spilled down his cheeks. What had gotten into him? Why were you different? Why was he so upset? Why did you getting injured bother him so badly? You were okay and you were expected to make a full recovery according to Hicks. Where along the line had he developed feelings and why was he so afraid of talking to you about them?

You spent 6 days in the hospital, 4 of those with a chest tube before being discharged home. During your entire hospital stay, Deacon had not been by to see you once despite daily visits from the rest of your teammates. It made you mad, but most of all, it hurt your feelings. You really liked you sergeant – or you thought that you did. His actions since you had been injured spoke louder than any words that could have been said.

Luca and Chris were there to take you home and help you get settled. They carried your bags in and Chris helped you unpack your things while Luca cooked supper for the three of you. Chris helped you remove your bra so you could put on a loose, comfy t-shirt. Being the only females on the squad left you two comfortable around each other.

“That is one hell of a bruise, babe.” She said as she looked at your black and purple side.

You had to agree – the entire left side of your torso was bruised. It looked awful. Thankfully, the doctors had been able to help manage your pain with narcotics.

“I’m glad it finally looks worse than it feels… Which is saying a lot because it still hurts like hell.”

You slipped on a pair of sleep shorts and made your way back into your kitchen with Chris.

You took a pain pill and joined your teammates in your living room to eat the spaghetti that Luca made.

“Thank you so much for taking care of me guys,” You said several hours later as you walked Luca and Chris to your door.

“That’s what we’re here for, love,” Luca said, pulling you into a gentle hug.

You kissed his cheek, “Supper was delicious, Dom. Thank you times a million.”

He returned the kiss to your cheek and Chris pulled you in for a hug.

“Call us if you need anything?”

You smiled at her after the hug, “You know I will.”

You settled onto your couch with a glass of wine. You knew the alcohol and narcotic wasn’t the smartest elixir, however, you needed to mask more than your physical pain.

You couldn’t get Deacon off your mind and your heart had yet to stop hurting. Your emotional pain screamed much louder than your physical pain.

“Dammit!” You heard through clouded consciousness. “What the fuck?”

You felt yourself being picked up and carried to your bed. You recognized a familiar cologne but quickly disregarded the scent and winced at the pain in your ribs before drifting back off to sleep.

You woke up the next morning nearly in tears again as you entered a coughing spell. You managed to get out of bed and make your way to the kitchen where your pain pills were, but you were scared shitless by a man sitting at your kitchen table. As soon as your heart began racing with fear, the fear subsided, realizing that it was Deacon sitting inside of your home.

“Jesus Christ! What the fuck, David?” You held your chest with one hand and braced your broken ribs with the other.

He didn’t answer you.

You ignored his silence and took your morning pain medication.

“Ya know… I said the same thing last night when I came over and found you unconscious on your couch. So, I can also say, what the fuck? What were you thinking?” Deacon’s voice grew steadily louder as he stood up and turned to you. “Pain pills and alcohol?”

You were angry. “Something to make this shit stop hurting,” You spat as you snatched up the side of your shirt to reveal your black and blue torso.

You could tell the extent of your injuries caught Deacon off guard. His facial expression softened and he didn’t respond.

You let go of your shirt, letting it fall back down to your waist and continued fixing yourself a glass of water to take your pain pill with. You took your medicine and continued to ignore your sergeant as you turned your back to him to get the milk out of your refrigerator to fix yourself a bowl of cereal. His hand stopped yours mid-air reaching for your cabinet. He gently held your wrist with one hand and you felt the edge of your shirt being lifted again. He let go of your hand, staring at the bruising that covered you. You could sense his demeanor soften.

There was a long silence as he took in your injuries.

“I’m so sorry…” He whispered.

The tone in his voice felt like a hug to your soul.

“Deacon-” You turned around to face him.

“No, listen to me,” he interrupted you. “This…” He grazed his fingertip down your side, “is all my fault.”

The confusion was written all over your face.

“I should have seen that bastard before he ever had a chance at you.”

You began shaking your head but you weren’t quite sure what to say.

“You’ve been an asshole to me ever since it happened, David, what the hell has changed now?” You were beginning to grow angry again.

“Look, I am so, so sorry.” His voice was gentle. “I should have stopped that guy before he shot you. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like I did. I should have visited you in the hospital. You are a teammate and I failed you, but I really should have told you from the get-go that I have developed feelings for you.” He didn’t take a breath the entire time he spoke so you struggled to follow him, but his last sentence hit you like a ton of bricks.

“Excuse me?”

“Ever since you have been on the team with us, you have become more than just a teammate to me. Truthfully, I have liked you from the day that I met you and my attraction to you has only grown every single day. I like you so much more than just as a teammate. I would dare say that I am falling in love with you.” He slowly reached up to cradle your face with his hand, hesitant, wondering if you would allow him to touch you.

You did.

“I am so, so sorry that I have treated you so poorly this week – so wrong. It had nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that I hate myself for not being able to protect you like I should have. I’ve been so afraid to let you know how I feel about you. I’m sorry I was more afraid of affecting the team than I was giving you the honesty that you deserve. Please, please forgive me.”

He looked into your eyes as he nervously chewed on his bottom lip.

“Deacon…” You said quietly, leaning into his hand caressing your jaw.

He took a deep breath and continued, “If you don’t feel the same way, I understand, but I came over here last night to apologize and tell you all of this. When I found you passed out on the couch, barely responsive, it frustrated me. So, I stayed here last night to make sure you were okay. Please don’t be mad.”

Silence fell between you while you considered how to respond. Given the emotions that you had worked through over the past week, going from feelings for your partner, to physical and emotional hurt, to anger towards David for not visiting, texting or calling, resentment towards yourself for having feelings towards David despite how cruel he had been to you with his absence while you had been hospitalized, you struggled to find any words.

Deacon watched you suffer through a week’s worth of feelings as he watched your eyes. You took a deep breath.

He decided that you were taken too long to respond and if he didn’t act now, he never would.

He leaned down and softly pressed his lips on yours.

You instinctively closed your eyes and allowed David to kiss you. When you didn’t pull away, he parted his lips just enough to run his tongue tenderly along your bottom lip. You opened your lips, allowing him to kiss you deeper. You began to return the kiss when David went to place his hands on your waist, forgetting about your injuries. You stopped kissing him and winced.

“God, I’m so sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay.” You whispered, your voice shaky.

Deacon noticed the tears that trickled down your cheeks.

He wiped them away with his thumbs and began apologizing to you again.

You interrupted him with another kiss. You reached up and intertwined your fingers behind his head, softly rubbing his neck with your fingertips. He moaned quietly into the kiss. He grabbed your arm and squeezed it, needing to touch you, but being mindful of your injuries. You enjoyed the feeling of his tall, muscular body, towering over yours. You felt protected.

“Deacon?”

He pressed his forehead to yours, brushing a stand of hair behind your ear, “Mmhmm?”

“I love you.”

"I love you too."

#christina alonso #david kay #dominic luca #hondo harrelson #imagine #jay harrington #jim street #swat #swat cbs #david deacon kay #Deacon #David deacon kay #deacon x reader #deacon fanfic #deacon kay x reader #swat officer #love #swat x reader #swat imagines

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turtletaubwrites · 4 months

Text

I Saw You First (Pt. 2) ~ Part 7.5

Thank you @zoroswifesblog for this request!! Here's Part 1. I recommend that if you're reading through the series (linked below) to read this after part 7. This is Zoro's pov of the next day.

Pairings: Sanji x Fem!Reader, Zoro x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1309

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Ao3 Link

Summary: It's the morning after your first night with the cook, and Zoro is determined to make you forget about him. Zoro grapples with his rage, and tries to understand why he's so worked up over your casual arrangement.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Fem!Reader, 18+ Only, MDNI, Reader-Insert, No Smut here except for brief memory descriptions, Casual Sex, Penis in Vagina Sex, Angst, Anger, Shame, Mild Violence Mentioned, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Crewmates with Benefits, Relationship Discussions

A/N: Feelings are tough, Zoro's having a bad day, y'all

I’m gonna show you.

Zoro had barely noticed he was awake before the rampage of thoughts from last night piled on his brain. The sounds he’d heard, your little whines while you let that idiot cook fuck you in the kitchen.

Trying to scrape the anger off of his skin in the shower, he had to hop around, shaking himself to release the images flooding his mind now.

Right there. She hung onto that safety bar when I fucked her against the wall. She was so fucking good, so tight and wet. She took it so well, even though I didn’t go easy on her.

“Fuck.”

He rushed out of there, wanting to save his energy for everything he planned on doing to you later.

I’m gonna fuck the memory of him out of you.

Zoro paced in his small room before heading to the galley. He kept his gaze away from the cook, and waited for you by the door.

He sat next to you at the booth, blocking the waiter from leaning in close to you like he had the day before.

You were blinking slowly, your under eyes a bit dark. He tried to convince himself it was because being with Sanji had bored you so much. He shoved away the thoughts of how late it was before you left last night, the sounds of you both moaning as you came.

Zoro’s grip on your thigh started pressing, and he let up.

But he hung on a bit tighter when Sanji leaned over him to give you a fancy fucking coffee, with a pretentious little flower painted on the foam.

The pathetic perv has to bribe her.

“I told you Usopp, Y/N’s sick. Chopper, can fevers make you go deaf?”

“Actually yes, a high fever can cause cochlear damage-”

“She’s not sick, she’s just been having trouble sleeping. Right, Y/N?”

He hadn’t registered what Luffy had asked until Robin’s calm, pointed words broke through. She looked at you, but her gaze slid to Zoro as he narrowed his eyes at her.

Who fucking cares if she knows.

You rushed out of the kitchen, and he followed you out on deck before he caught another glimpse of him.

You let out a cute little yawn, and Zoro watched the line of your body as you stretched.

Fuck, I want you right here, right now.

His body was nearly buzzing as he came up behind you, breathing across your neck.

“You’re coming to my room tonight.”

He watched your sweet mouth as you turned with another yawn, leaning toward him as you replied.

“I can’t tonight, Zoro. I need to get some rest.”

The sound of your moans last night clanged through his ears again, and he felt that rage bubbling up. You took a step back from him, and he couldn’t fucking stop himself, the words leaving his mouth like poison.

“What, now that cook treats you like a little princess, and you don’t want to fuck me?”

The sound of a lighter sparked behind him.

“I believe the lady told you she wanted a break, Marimo.”

Zoro spun, his fingers on a sword, itching to draw it.

I’m gonna kill this fucker, always butting in on what’s mine.

“Fucking stop it, both of you. I’m not a piece of meat to fight over.”

Your voice was shaky, but angry, and Zoro turned to watch you take your step back toward him.

“And Zoro, I enjoy our time together, but there’s a line. You agreed to this, so speak up if you can’t handle it.”

He had to clench his teeth to keep more poisonous words in, anger boiling hotter the longer Sanji stood beside him.

He missed something you said as he imagined everything his swords could do to the cook, and he had to bite his tongue to bring him back to the moment.

“Okay, rule number one; no fighting over me. The whole point of this arrangement is to keep things casual, and I won’t put myself in the middle of your feud.”

Zoro could barely hold himself back from breaking that rule as you uttered it.

“Rule number two; no one gets their feelings hurt when I want to take a break. I’m fucking tired, and I’m not a doll you can use whenever you want.”

Rage was replaced by hot shame, pouring into Zoro’s stomach.

What the fuck is from with me?

“Fuck, Needy, I didn’t mea-”

He almost flinched as you held your hand out to stop him.

Fuck, I’m fucking this up. I’m going crazy, why can’t I handle my fucking shit?

“Rule number three; we need to come up with some sort of system to keep things fair. I don’t want to have to choose between you guys, and get caught in your pissing contest.”

The shame stayed in him, but rage bubbled back.

She still wants to let that perv fuck her.

Zoro fucking tried to keep his mouth shut, but he couldn’t stop himself from blurting his question out, too soon.

“So, what’s the system?”

“Let her catch her breath, moss head.”

“You don’t know what she needs, waiter.”

“Guys, seriously? Stop.”

Zoro had leaned toward Sanji’s smug face just aching to slam his fists into it, but your voice cut through. He turned to you, fighting his need to teach that shit head a lesson, and keep calm for you.

Don’t fucking ruin this.

“Let’s alternate. One day with Zoro, then the next day with Sanji. And I get to take breaks without you destroying the ship.”

Zoro swallowed the knot of rage that was threatening to bubble up at the thought of continuing to share you with Sanji. He fought to breathe evenly, and missed something else you’d said.

“... Okay then, good! Do we all agree to the terms?”

“Of course dear-“

“Sure-“

“Great! I’m going to get some work done.”

He turned to watch you walk away, not wanting to look at the piece of shit blond before he broke rule number one.

“Marimo, you need to-”

“Don’t fucking talk to me, cook.”

Zoro fumed all the way to his quarters, the restraint it took not to break the walls was painful. He started counting pushups and situps again, but all he could think of was your tired, angry face.

‘I’m not a doll you can use whenever you want.’

Slamming his fists against his thighs, Zoro slumped to the floor, putting his head in his hands.

What the fuck is wrong with me? We’re just fucking, why am I going off the deep end like this? I need to get my shit together.

Shame curdled in his stomach as Zoro’s mind raced over everything you had said to each other since you’d started this. Clenching his eyes shut again at the thought of you stepping back from him.

Gods, I’m a piece of shit. Of course she’d rather be with that annoying waiter over me. I fucking scared her.

Zoro stewed in his anger and disgust for hours, trying to figure out how to fix his fuck up. The thought of you not wanting to see him again made his gut clench, especially coupled with the fear that he’d have to watch you with him everyday.

And that step back you took when he spoke to you like that. It haunted him, hovering in his mind like a cloud of hornets.

I’ve gotta make this right.

He’s never been good at this, but Zoro walked himself through a hundred ways to apologize to you. He practiced, needing you to never look at him that way again. To never be afraid of him.

I need her to feel safe with me.

I need her to forgive me.

He finally left his quarters, shame still aching through him as he searched for you.

Thank You for Reading! 💜

TurtleTaub Fanfic Masterlist

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

*Hi tagged friends! I wasn't sure if you'd like to be tagged in the extra scenes without the reader, so please let me know if you'd like me to leave your name out of these going forward.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed Zoro's version of the next day! He sure didn't 😅 I am loving taking requests for this series, let me know if you have another other scenes you'd like me to explore!

Buy me a coffee ☕🙏🏼

#zoro x reader #sanji x reader #sanji fanfic #one piece fanfic #mine #zoro fanfic #Reader Insert #Fem!Reader #My writing #angst #zoro smut #smut #x reader #turtletaub fics

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inklore · 2 years

Note

suddenly thinking sooooo hard about shower sex with hangman kajdkshfks

veracious.

series masterlist

pairing: jake ‘hangman’ seresin x (f)reader

word count: 977

warnings: eighteen+ content, shower sex, dirty talk, porn with feelings i guess, established enemies with benefits, pilot reader, secret relationship, mentions of phoenix and bob.

etc: wrote this in mind with it being a part of this piece but you don’t have to read it to read this. i might write a bigger piece with these two since that tgm brain rot is still going strong, depending on if anyone would want it or not lmao.

i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!

“If you don’t be quiet they’re going to hear you.” His tone is laced in arrogance. Even with his hand over your mouth muffling your moans—even if his large palm wasn’t over your mouth—you both knew it wouldn't be any dent on his ego if anyone was to hear you.

It would be another win for him to get off on. Another way for him to make it more than obvious, without words, just how great Jake Seresin is.

You really need to stop boosting his ego. It’s sickening to watch him smirk after, or during, your little escapades; like he is now. Hangman’s lips at your ear, one hand over your mouth, the other gripping your hip, chest pressed into your back as he fucks you against the tiled wall.

The tiled walls—shower room—you share with your fellow aviators.

Anyone could walk in right now and catch a glimpse of the two of you fucking behind the flimsy curtain. No doubt everyone in a mile radius has heard your moans already.

“You didn’t..” Phoenix’s voice is laced in just as much disgust as her expression is.

“Didn’t what?”

“Fuck Seresin.” Her face scrunches into a grimace. Looks like she might actually be sick.

“I’d rather die!”

“Oh, yeah? Is that why he keeps eye fucking you from across the room,” she states, argues. “And why Bob said he saw the two of you leaving the deck like your asses were on fire, Seresin’s hands on said ass.”

Fuck, Bob. You’re searching the bar to send him a threatening scowl. That little shit. And fuck Hangman for not being able to keep his hands to himself—in most cases you could have chalked it up to the endless banter and arguments the two of you always found yourselves in. Keeping that facade of pure hatred going for the masses.

“Sweets,” she says your call sign like it’s a warning. Look turning from grossed out to serious, “getting involved with him is the last thing you need on your conscience.”

“We’re not involved!” You huff, “like I said, I’d rather die.”

After all of you had come back from the bar, you’d waited until the halls were pilot free to set on an angry march to Hangman’s room. Only to have Coyote answering his door with a “he’s in the showers” paired with a smirk you wanted to smack off of his face.

And that’s where you found him, naked and soaping his chest as you yanked back the curtain.

“We need to stop this,” hands crossed over your chest, eyes trying to stay focused on his face and not…further…down.

“Well, good evening to you too, Sweets.” Now was not the time for his aggravating smirk because you really might punch him for it.

“Bob saw us!”

“Did he?” He’s completely unphased, turning his back to the faucet to rinse it.

“Yes! And I’d rather no one else know-”

“Think you and I both know it’s too late for that.”

You scowl at him, even though you knew he was right. Fuck him for being right, fuck Bob, and fuck you for falling for those pretentious pretty boy charms in the first place.

“Mine as well keep giving them something to talk about.” His smirk grew, showing off those perfect white teeth of his, before he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you into the shower with him, pressing your lips together in a rough kiss.

Which is how you got here.

The hard snap of his hips making your ass ripple, your thighs pressed together in a way that makes it feel like Hangman’s cock is tearing you in two.

“Would you like that, baby?” You want to gag at the pet name, want to elbow him in the ribs. Want to do a lot of things but he’s rolling his hips in that way that has the tip of his cock touching that spot inside of you that makes stars blur your vision. “Everyone already knows you’re mine. Even you know it.” His teeth bite at your ear, his heavy pants filling your eardrums when he’s not. So all you can hear is him—the sounds of his skin slapping yours, his grunts, pants, your wetness drowning out the run of the water hitting the tile—all you can feel is him.

A trend of the way Hangman fucks, lives. Center of attention, in the sky, on land, in the bedroom. Wants everyone to know he’s the one they're admiring or pissed off at.

In your case: the one fucking you. The one who drives you insane but you can’t get enough off.

And you’d hate him for it, should hate him for it. Should have let the embarrassment of Phoenix finding out ward you off of him for the rest of your life. If this was a year ago you know you’d still despise him and be giving him shit right now. But so much time has passed. A tension come and gone and only resolved between the two of you by fucking.

His thrusts pick up speed, his grunts echoing deeper in his chest. The hand on your hip falls between your legs to rub the pad of his index finger against your clit, “you’re my girl, right?”

The strangled moan you let out as you nod frantically is something you’ll deny later. Know your cheeks will burn when he passes you in the rec room, putting on your big show of hating him in front of everyone; “thought you were my girl” he’ll whisper against your ear and it’ll simultaneously make you scowl and flutter between your legs.

Because yeah, maybe you were his girl and maybe you didn’t care who knew—you cared a whole lot actually—but just as long as he kept fucking you like this, it lightened the blow of everyone knowing.

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman smut #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman seresin smut #jake seresin smut #jake seresin one shot #hangman x y/n #jake seresin fic #hangman #jake seresin x f!reader #hangman x f!reader #jake seresin x you #top gun #thots !#green light series

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fatuismooches · 2 months

Note

hi! this is my first time submitting anything to this blog, so I hope I’m doing this right. If requests are closed, please ignore this!

Can I request dottore with an s/o who is just generally always sweet and friendly? I think it’d be an interesting dynamic (a bit cliche, but I think it’s cute)

Thank you!

-Sleepy Anon

In the Akademiya, he would think you're annoying, to put it simply. Not to mention fake. Not real. Being nice to him is an anomaly on its own but somehow keeping up the same energy for others makes him try to pick holes in your character for a long time, obviously because he can't believe this is really your personality. But with time comes knowledge and that comes with acceptance that becoming sweet and kind is really who you are. It also comes with him not wanting you to extend such things to others, only to be kept for him instead. Of course no matter his efforts this doesn't exactly work out.

However, by the Fatui time, he'd have gotten used to your personality by now. He's learned to accept it as part of who you are, but ugh, he does not take joy in how friendly you are with the other Harbingers... But of course, he can't stop you from doing what you please. (However, will he divert your attention from them? Will he give you extra work and tasks so you can't be all buddy-buddy with the Regrator again? Well yes!)

Unsurprisingly he and the segments would definitely try to rub off on you. By this I mean they will try to get you to act more rude and standoffish. If they're unsuccessful, they will only become more interested in that brain of yours because genuinely how could someone be that nice. If they're successful, they will be very proud of themselves and will try to influence you more. It's partly due to them wanting to see how much farther they can go and also because it's for your own good. They still don't see the benefit of being like you...

Although, if you happen to have a... darker side to you, under all of the sweetness you show, needless to say, he would be very much amused and intrigued. You'd need to show him in detail...

#smooches talks #sleepy anon #dottore love notes <3 #this would be me actually and i also think its very cute #sunshine x the absolute opposite of sunshine?

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mountingpulisic · 1 year

Text

YOU GOT TO BE KIDDING ME?

part one

tequila had always been your choice of alcohol when you wanted to forget. each shot representing a memory of yours that you wish you could erase from your brain.

one for the look on christian’s face when you whispered those three little words.

one for how quickly he had gotten dressed and sped out of your flat.

one for the heartbreak that came along with the silence after the door closed.

you weren’t blind, you had noticed him the second he came in following behind ben and mason. the three stooges, you used to call them.

your eyes scanned over his club attire, mentally cursing yourself on how no matter how much you hated him right now, he still could cause your heart to flutter.

you didn't know exactly when you started to fall for the former german player, had it been when the two of you binge watched gilmore girls and he agreed with you that logan was the better option for rory?

was it when he showed up with a bag of nando’s when you absentmindedly told him you had been craving it since the arrival of your period?

or was it that night at kai’s dinner party where he told your group of friends during a game of fuck, marry, kill that he’d marry you in a heartbeat. saying you were the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on.

you are positive that is what did it for you.

not wanting to be faced with the constant reminder of your failed situationship, you turned your attention to the stranger next to you and struck up a conversation.

an hour had passed and you found yourself genuinely liking the company you were keeping. his name was henry and he had just recently moved to england for his job. having to leave his boyfriend of three years behind in france, resulting in a break up.

“enough about me, y/n. tell me something about you.” henry said, getting slightly annoyed at how much he had talked in the past hour.

“what would you like to know?” you asked, bringing the drink you were nursing to your lips. you had pushed closer to henry since the area you two were occupying was quickly getting filled, leaving little to no space. you were basically on the man’s lap at this point, not that he minded, there clearly wasn’t going to be any blood rushing down there anyways.

“I don't know, i already know what you do for a living, how many siblings you have, what you majored in uni. however, you still haven’t brought up your love life.”

you were hoping henry hadn’t noticed how you were purposely avoiding the topic when getting to know each other. how were you going to explain to a stranger how you stupidly agreed to a friends with benefits situation with your neighbor only to have broken the one rule set before the mutual agreement.

luckily for you, you had been interrupted.

unluckily for henry, he was suddenly pulled up from behind by his collar and thrown into the nearest wall.

the five ten midfielder was seeing red by the time his fifth drink circulated through his blood stream, eyes never leaving the scene that unfolded in front of him as you flirted with the man. Christian was content in his own personal bubble of anger until he saw you move closer to sit in the bastard's lap.

that’s when the bubble popped.

mason and ben hurriedly flocked to christian’s side trying to pry him off of the shellshocked blonde.

“are you fucking delirious, man? trying to make a move on my girl?” christian screamed in henry’s face. the two mens strength combined was not enough to get him to loosen his grip on henry’s collar.

you sat there frozen, digesting the scene that was unfolding in front of you, henry’s eyes sending you a pleading look to help him.

“christian, what the actual fuck.” he seriously could not be causing a scene in the middle of the club right now, embarrassing not only you but himself as well. However, christian didn’t give a rats ass if he looked crazy as of this moment, because right now he was pissed.

right now, there was nothing more he wanted to do than rip henry’s head off his shoulders. muffled shouts and hands grabbed his shirt trying to get a hold of him to pry him off the poor guy. any minute now security was going to come and kick all five of you out.

and that’s exactly what happened as you sat on the curb with henry’s waiting for your uber. hands covering your face as you practiced your speech that you were going to deliver to christian after henry was safely in the car.

apologizing once again, you sent henry off and started making your way towards the three stooges who were leaning on a wall a few feet away from the club exit. noticing you approaching rather quickly considering the fact you were in heels, ben and mason knew they had to act quick.

being the good friends that they were, quickly dividing trying to keep space between yourself and christian. ben consumed you in his arms as he fought off your hands trying to push past him to the dimpled boy as mason stood like a brick wall shielding christian from you.

“you have to be fucking kidding me right now, what was that?!” you shout, looking around at the three men, waiting for an explanation.

final part

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic x you #christian pulisic x reader

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depressedhouseplant · 3 months

Text

🔞 The Lies We Tell Ourselves (JiGyu) 🔞

Tags: Unprotected sex, friends with benefits but make it toxic

A/N: I’m considering bonus content for this for one day of JFW but I need to post the original first, no? Bonus content can be found here & here

Jihoon grunted when his phone buzzed on the nightstand. He was in that blissful state right before sleep when it went off.

🍆💦: WYD?

Of course it was him. No one else would be texting him at 1am on a Thursday.

🍚: Trying to sleep. You can come over though

Jihoon watched as the typing bubbles flashed on the screen.

🍆💦: See you in 10 😘

He lived over half an hour away. That meant he was already on his way because he knew Jihoon would say yes. Jihoon always said yes. He sighed and got out of bed.

“Hey babe,” Mingyu kissed Jihoon when he got in the door. He tasted like cheap liquor and cigarettes.

“Hey,” Jihoon kissed him back.

“Did I really wake you up?” he asked.

“No,” it was the truth, Jihoon told himself.

“Good. I might have felt guilty otherwise,” Mingyu picked him up and Jihoon instinctively wrapped his legs around the other man’s hips.

“I doubt that,” Jihoon replied.

“Mmm, you’re right,” Mingyu hummed against Jihoon’s neck. Jihoon dipped his head back to give Mingyu better access. The other man nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin as he carefully rested Jihoon on the bed. Jihoon propped himself up on his elbows and watched Mingyu strip down to his underwear. The tip of Mingyu’s cock was peeking out from the waistband, already red and leaking. Jihoon let his legs fall open as Mingyu crawled on top of him. His body completely engulfed Jihoon’s smaller one. The almost 8 inch height difference meant everything about Mingyu could completely cover Jihoon. It was part of the appeal, Mingyu claimed.

“Missed you,” Mingyu said against Jihoon’s mouth.

“Me too,”

That’s when Jihoon’s logical brain officially shut off. He wrapped his arms around Mingyu's neck and kissed him harder, bucking his hips up into the other man’s torso.

“Can’t wait to get my cock into your tight little hole,” Mingyu panted, trying to pull off his underwear with one hand.

“Can’t wait for you to stuff me full,” Jihoon replied, reaching down to help Mingyu out of his underwear. The taller man leaned across the bed and pulled the lube out of the nightstand drawer. He dropped it next to Jihoon’s head as he pulled Jihoon’s underwear off. Mingyu moved his lips down Jihoon’s chest, stopping to lick and suck at his nipples.

“Fuck,” Jihoon gasped, his hips involuntarily jerking upwards. He felt Mingyu smile against his chest and go back to teasing the sensitive buds. Jihoon knotted his fingers in the other man’s hair. He tugged when Mingyu bit one of his nipples.

“Feeling a little rough?” Mingyu teased, propping his head on Jihoon’s chest.

“Maybe I want you to throw me around a little,” Jihoon smirked.

“That I can do,” Mingyu sat up and lubed up his fingers. He began to open Jihoon up, making sure to keep one of his hips pinned to the bed. “How do you want it? Over the kitchen counter like last time?”

“Against the wall,” Jihoon breathed. A devilish smile curled on Mingyu’s lips.

“Want to give me a little workout tonight? Hold you up while I fuck you?” he grinned.

“We both know it’s hardly a workout for you,” Jihoon replied. Mingyu purposely grazed Jihoon’s prostate with one of his long fingers.

“Are you saying I’m big or you’re small?” he asked as Jihoon jerked under his hand.

“Both,” Jihoon panted.

“Alright then. I’ll fuck you against the wall just to show off that I can hold you the entire time I fuck you,” Mingyu withdrew his fingers and got off the bed, watching Jihoon the entire time. He made a show of lubing up his cock.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready,” Jihoon nodded. Mingyu bent over and pushed into Jihoon. It was the same feeling every time. Pain, then feeling full. So fucking full. Mingyu scooped him up and then pressed them against the wall. Jihoon held onto Mingyu’s shoulders as the other man got a solid grip on his ass. Jihoon joined their lips as Mingyu started fucking up into him. It didn’t take long before Jihoon’s body gave in and he was fully seated on the other man’s cock.

“Taking me so well. Always take me so well,” Mingyu huffed.

“Made for you,” Jihoon replied, kissing Mingyu’s jaw. Mingyu tilted his chin up, inviting Jihoon to mark him. Jihoon began sucking a hickey on the front of Mingyu’s throat. It would be a pain in the ass to cover and Jihoon knew that. He liked that. Jihoon felt Mingyu’s fingers dig harder into his ass.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to finish already?” Jihoon picked his head up.

“You know I have a very firm ‘you first’ policy. Just getting a little sweaty,” Mingyu reminded him. They were sweaty and Mingyu did always make sure that Jihoon finished first.

“Just making sure this isn’t too much for you,” Jihoon nipped at Mingyu.

“Never,” he grinned, took a deep breath, and began fucking even harder into Jihoon. Jihoon had to lock his arms over Mingyu’s unnecessarily broad shoulders to keep from being flung around. Mingyu adjusted the angle of Jihoon’s hips and grazed his prostate with every thrust.

“Holy fuck,” Jihoon gasped.

“Don’t worry baby, you’ll see God when I’m done with you,” Mingyu kissed him again. Jihoon felt the heat start to pool in his lower belly. Mingyu was hitting every sensitive spot he had with every stroke. He knew it too when he finally looked Jihoon in the eyes.

“Come on, baby. Don’t hold back,” he said. One more well timed stroke and Jihoon was coming between their bodies. Hot streaks of white painted their torsos as Mingyu fucked Jihoon all the way through his orgasm. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath. Jihoon ran his hand through Mingyu’s sweaty hair.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he grinned.

“Thank you for the invitation,” Mingyu grinned back. He began his thrusts again. Jihoon could feel Mingyu start to twitch inside him. Jihoon gave him a quick squeeze and that tipped Mingyu over the edge. He bucked into Jihoon, spilling everything he had into the smaller man’s body. When he finished, Mingyu’s come sat warm and sticky inside him. Jihoon let his head hit the wall with a soft thump as the feeling seeped through his body.

“You okay?” Mingyu asked.

“Fine,” Jihoon smiled a little.

“Good. Can’t have my favorite little fuck buddy giving himself a concussion,” Mingyu smiled back. He walked them back over to the bed and pulled out. “Time to clean up.”

Mingyu went into the bathroom and wet a washcloth. Jihoon tried to ignore the unpleasant sensation of come leaking out of his ass. Mingyu wiped them both down then crawled in bed behind Jihoon, pulling him close and resting his arm across Jihoon’s chest.

“Good?” he asked into Jihoon’s hair.

“Always,” Jihoon replied. The truth, he reminded himself.

“Good. Should I let you go to sleep now?” Mingyu teased.

“Some of us do have jobs,” Jihoon snarked.

“Oh hush,” Mingyu kissed the back of Jihoon’s head. “Go to sleep then.”

“Good night, Mingyu,” Jihoon pulled the larger man’s arm tighter against his chest.

“Good night, Jihoon,” Mingyu yawned.

Jihoon knew he’d wake up to a cold spot next to him and an apologetic text. He always did.

#minors dni #seventeen hard hours #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #seventeen au #woozi x mingyu #jigyu #just fucking write 2k24 #bonus content

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ynmnrmt · 2 months

Text

You & Me & Rhea Makes Three: Chapter 6

rhea ripley x m!reader x m!reader's girlfriend

word count: 3,831

warnings: explicit sexual content, themes of domination/submission, dubiously consensual nonmonogamy, nonconsensual sex

a/n: So, I could flannel and wring my hands here and claim there's a grey area, but I'm not going to - this chapter contains an explicit rape scene which I am presenting as erotic material. I'm not fucking around here, I'm stating this clearly for the benefit of you the reader, if you don't like the sound of that do not read on. If, on the other hand, you do like the sound of that, then SMASH THAT KEEP READING

(The story so far: chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five)

Jennifer is away for work. Another dreary training seminar in the middle of nowhere. She always apologises as she recounts it all for how boring it all is, be it a word association game about customer retention, or sitting in a circle to pass a ball back and forth which somehow represents customer satisfaction, or even attempting to collectively manifest customer relations.

“It’s the ball one again,” she confesses, framed awkwardly in your phone, so that it looks like she is looking up at you from the upside-down world. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take, I need to find something better than this.”

“You’ll be back by the end of the week,” you say, in a cheery hand-on-the-shoulder way.

“And I know we said we were going to have phone sex,” even having negotiated it at length you do have a little tingle of surprise to hear her say it, “but they booked us all double rooms. We’re all fucking paired up, I don’t have a minute to myself.”

“I wish,” you say, and mean it, “I could reach through the screen and hold you in my arms and make everything better.”

In the background as you say this, the door rattles and Rhea walks in, glowing from her run. “Is that Jen?” she mouths – then, without waiting for a reply jumps into view next to you. “Hey, sexy,” she waves hello, then sing-songs “missing you” and pulls your phone up to her face to give the screen a sloppy wet kiss.

“Hey, Rhea,” says Jennifer, still downcast and tired. “God, I wish you guys were here. We’d find a way to fit in a double room, obviously.” You and Rhea both chuckle at that. Her arm is pressed against yours, damp with sweat, it is all too apparent she has been for a run – and it makes your heart beat faster, remembering the long hot summer when the water and electricity were off. Then Jennifer is distracted. “Oh hell, I’m sorry, I have to go. The counting mung beans workshop just started. I’ll speak to you soon. Try not to have too much fun without me.”

“Love you,” you say.

“Love y-” adds Rhea, but then the call cuts off. “Oh, poor thing.” She plucks at her neckline, takes a whiff of herself, and jerks her head back. “God – excuse me!” And she repairs off to the shower, even though you don’t mind at all and tell her so, the dark stains on the back of her shirt define the muscles underneath so beautifully it doesn’t even occur to your lizard brain to look at her ass until she’s already out of the room.

Try not to have too much fun, the words rattle in your mind. Jennifer has gone off to this tedious seminar, leaving you alone with your other girlfriend, and worse still is being so impossibly nice about it all. You clench a fist and pound the couch – you don’t wish you were there with her, you wish she was back here, happy and safe. Yes, and you also wish you earned enough that constant horrible work outings didn’t have to be part of her life.

You resolve to have all the things she likes waiting for her on her return, a great elaborate gesture, anything to try and show the depths of your feelings. All the pillars and domed roofs of your grand design turn into fog when Rhea emerges from the shower, fresh and pink in just a towel, to skip through to her room. That image, her shy little smile as she clutches the towel to herself, remains burned into your consciousness long after she comes back through, dressed now, and flops on the couch next to you to cool off.

“I wish we were there with her too,” she muses, head back on the cushions. “We could cheer her up. Not like that,” she adds, and gives you a playful shove, even though you neither said anything nor changed your demeanour in any way.

“They don’t make you go on any awful training days, do they?” you ask.

“There’s enough health and safety shit. It’s not like it was.” Yes, there’s one you can nod sagely at, because nothing’s like it was. She’s spread out next to you, still warm from the shower, and you try not to let it distract you, but through the material of her quite conservative shorts, you can make out the shape of her vulva. “Ah, I can’t wait till Jen’s back – although I do like it when it’s just us. Sometimes, it’s sort of like we’re cheating on her.”

“Yeah,” you reflect.

“But we’re not, obviously.”

“See, sometimes I worry about where exactly the lines can be drawn, and-”

“Oh, I think I pulled something,” groans Rhea, and plops her leg in your lap. “Would you rub my calves?” It would be rude to say no, that’s what you tell yourself, but you barely need the prompt to put your hands on her. And when you do it’s not even a rub but more of a squeeze, a grope, hungry grabs at her body and her tattooed flesh – but this seems to do the job, because she swivels around in her seat to throw her other leg over you too.

“Look, Rhea,” you say, now doing something to the muscles of her calf that’s between a massage and a gentle pull, trying to get back to the point, “Jen’s really special to me, and-”

“And to me!” Rhea sits forward, in wholehearted agreement. “If she was here, you could take a leg each, instead of you having to do them both yourself.” You can’t even object to the simple purity of the idea. “You know I would never do anything to hurt her, right?” And you nod, there’s no polite way to question that. “So obviously I’d never cheat on her, just like you wouldn’t, but, um, sometimes it’s fun to pretend, you know? I hope she’s thinking about us right now, I hope we can at least cheer her up that way.” Her legs are like an unimaginably comforting blanket, right over your lap.

“I hope so too,” you say vaguely, as you try to shift so she doesn’t notice your hard-on, then you make the complete wrong move and bump it into her.

“See,” she says, as if she’s about to share a secret, “I know how much you love her, you’ve got a boner just talking about her.”

“She’s very special,” you reply, wanting to hang your head in shame.

“She’s perfect,” says Rhea, now she’s got her arms around you, she’s crept closer so it’s her thighs across you, but she’s not actually sitting in your lap and you really have your doubts that would work. As your erection tries to winkle its way between her legs, she muses on “I’ve honestly never been happier, than I have with you guys...and I was proud to wreck that guy who tried messing with you.”

Immediately you feel awkward, far more awkward than you did simply poking at her. Three of them, there had been, and Rhea went for them without a second’s hesitation. “I’m sorry I didn’t do anything there,” you say, and squeeze her thigh like a child, hoping for forgiveness.

“Oh, sweetie, no, you don’t need to be – look,” she says, she sweeps her legs down and comes forward to look you in the eye, “I know when most people say this stuff, they’re just saying it, but I genuinely don’t believe you’re obliged to act in a certain way because of your gender. I really don’t.” And she gives you the sweetest smile, for a moment you cannot bear to meet her gaze. “Besides,” she adds, “I get a bit of a thrill showing I’m stronger than men.”

“Oh,” you react, unable to even try and conceal your own excitement.

“And the thing is,” she says, gently taking your hands in hers, “it’s for exactly all those reasons that I say I reject, all those gender conventions – which I guess makes me the biggest hypocrite in the world.”

“No, you’re not,” you insist, for reasons that have nothing to do with the actual question. “And – and I hope you never feel anything less than perfectly feminine.” Which is probably the wrong thing to say, but you squeeze her hands, and she squeezes yours back and beams – and then she grips them hand and brings them up over your head. You fall back and now she’s on top of you.

“One of the things I always felt was really unfair,” she husks, the cloud of her hot breath making your head spin, as she gets both your hands gripped firmly in one of hers, “is how, in a lot of places, legally speaking women can’t rape men – which is just nonsense.”

“Yeah, i-it’s just stupid,” you agree too quickly, and it’s true, you always thought that was profoundly unjust on the face of it, though any outrage you felt was eclipsed by the little twinge it gave you imagining yourself in that scenario. Your cock is still pressed excruciatingly against her legs, but now it’s from the front, and again you squirm to try and make it better and make it a hundred times worse. It was a crazy thought anyway, it was hardly even a thought, obviously there’s no escape from her goddess-thighs – and if there was, could you bring yourself to take it?

“And I imagine the worst part is when they do get an erection,” she says in an irresistible, candlelit voice, “and they worry that on some level they did want it – which is bound to get really confusing if, like a lot of people, they have secret fantasies about someone they like doing that to them. I know I do.”

“I would be happy to help you with that,” you say immediately, any filter between mind and tongue long gone. She giggles affectionately.

“How about you?” she asks, as she dances from side to side on her hands and knees over you, swaying gently from left to right and back again. “What if Jen just grabbed you and held you down sometime?” You daren’t answer, but then you don’t need to, not when you dig further into her thigh. “And obviously, she,” Rhea’s lips brush along the length of your face, it seems like it’s random, yes, and your erection is probably completely random too, “if you really wanted her to stop, she would, because she loves you.”

“But I couldn’t bear to ask her,” you casually confess, “not by that point,” and Rhea laughs in understanding fashion in a way that makes you laugh along with her, yes, neither of you could stand to deny her, not in that situation. Then, showing amazing skill with her one free hand, she’s unzipped your trousers and takes hold of your cock. “Wait,” you say, not saying no, just asking her to wait, “wait, Rhea, Jen’s not here-”

“Oh, I know,” she sympathises, as she eases down her shorts that barely concealed anything anyway, “but let’s pretend she is.”

“Rhea, seriously, wait-” and now she kisses you, properly, not an ounce of force behind it, just her mouth against yours. You squirm, you burn internally, in this moment you don’t love anyone quite as much as you love her. You even try to break out of the iron grasp of her hand around your wrists, you know she’s stronger than you, and maybe you didn’t really want to anyway. Then she moves and then you are inside her.

“You make me so wet when you wriggle,” she says, and she’s telling the truth, all you can see is the devilish delight on her face and the halo of light around it. Her next forceful kiss is a lick at first, up across your cheek while she fucks you, but your lips end up locked with hers all the same.

“Please,” you say, when your mouth is free of hers, “stop – help -” and all the while her hips bang against you, as if drawing poison from a wound, you do not want to call it rape even in your own head because it feels so good. The way she presses down on you, the way she squeezes you, of course you don’t resist.

“Oh fuck – oh fuck,” Rhea wails, her lip draws against your face with the worlds, she’s hardly even holding your wrists any more. In fact, she gives up on that and just takes hold of your arms with both hands, because “I love holding you this way – doesn’t it feel so sensual?” As she keeps going you hear something break in the couch and her vulnerability makes your heart run liquid, you feel bad at having resisted at all.

“Rhea,” you try not to choke, “I don’t want this-”

“Oh sweetie, I don’t want it to end either, I’m so close already – please, hold out a little longer for me, please do that for me,” it seems like every word is punctuated with the light headbutt of her kissing you again. Because you love her you do hold on, as best you can without use of your hands, you bite your lip and project mental energy in any other direction, you feel your spine warp, and when she cries out with joy you can no longer resist and go off, torrential inside her. But her magnificent form doesn’t stop moving, the way she goes up and down your cock isn’t even slowed, perhaps it’s sheer momentum but more likely every lap she’s run and weight she’s lifted paying off. And as she keeps riding you and keeps enjoying it, the pain of her using a part of you that doesn’t want to be used, that, that is the finest feeling in the world.

You lie together afterwards, Rhea’s still on top, she sewing-machines the side of your neck with tiny pecks that are gentler than seems possible from her. “You’re perfect,” she confesses, in her post-sex flush that makes her seem flawless herself. “And the best part is, we know this is all okay. I know you worry about this, but Jen isn’t going to mind, not really.”

“Mm-hm,” you say, still not really convinced and muffled by Rhea’s hair anyway.

“I still feel all tingly thinking about it.” Yes, to be sure, you do too. “Obviously if we didn’t want it, that would be monstrous – but we did, so it’s just a fun, sexy thrill. I mean, if I thought I’d hurt you or something, I couldn’t forgive myself. Not for that.”

Immediately you conceive of this as the cruellest sort of manipulation. But deep down, you know it isn’t, not really, because you had wanted it, maybe not with a completely clear conscience, but you had, you’d burned for it. You squeeze her big, fabulous body, and for a moment you see her smile, as if she is blocking out the sun. Then she rests her head on you, between your chest and your shoulder, a gesture at normality that must have her long legs hanging off the end of the couch.

There’s a noise, a twinkle. It’s your phone. With Rhea on top of you, it’s some struggle to get your fingers into your pocket, but eventually you manage it. When you see Jen’s name pop up on the screen, there’s the familiar dread, the feeling that finally the other boot is about to drop. “What does our girlfriend say?” Rhea asks sweetly.

When you open the message, Jennifer hasn’t actually said anything. The message is a picture, her naked in striking moody light, the tangled bedsheet nearly covering one of her breasts. She hasn’t shown any of her face above the mouth, a sensible precaution, but at least now she looks as if she’s enjoying herself. You look at her arms, her stomach, soft and rounded where Rhea’s is hard, and not for the first time you wish she was here.

“Hello, hello,” says Rhea, you can feel the smirk twist her face. There’s another twinkle, and a text from your girlfriend pops up reading maybe you can pretend I’m there as well. God, how you’d love to. “Aww...she might just break my heart one day,” and Rhea’s lips are so close to yours that when she says it, your mouth moves too.

“She’s so pretty,” you say longingly, perhaps this moves Rhea’s mouth as well, and you want to cry but know you cannot show that weakness.

“Maybe, um, maybe we should go again? For her?” Her fingers rest lightly on your chest, but there’s no way in hell you could move them.

You had thought, an entirely theoretical but perfectly plausible grand plan, that you would greet Jennifer with a smorgasbord of all the things she likes. There would be the white chocolate cookies, and beer on ice – not wine, she feels faintly obliged to drink that on special occasions but you know what she’d choose given the chance. You’d have queued up one of those documentaries on Bigfoot hunters, yes, of course you and she would show up in the viewing figures the same as a genuine nut, but the craziness is still fun. And you’d have wrapped her up in a blanket and ordered in whatever takeout her little heart desired.

When Jennifer opens the door, she sees you on the couch, slimy with sweat and gasping for breath, wearing a t-shirt but no trousers or underwear, that least dignified form of nudity. She barely has time to put her suitcase down before Rhea creeps up from the side and snarls “You have no idea how much we missed you”, and grabs the front of her shirt. There is one sharp tug, the buttons spray everywhere, and for a moment she looks scared, horrified even – but that only lasts until Rhea bows her head and rubs her face in amongst Jennifer’s breasts.

“Oh!” flutters Jennifer. “Oh, Rhea…” And she shoots you the same sort of guilty glance you know you’ve given her more than once.

“And I missed these, too – come on, come sit with us,” though there’s no real request about it, Rhea scoops Jennifer up in her arms, and it seems as if they share a long slushy bonding look – but scarcely a second in Rhea throws her down on the couch, and you manage to scrabble out of the way just in time. Then you clutch her, protectively, though there’s no kind of protection you know how to offer that could stop Rhea as she flops her whole weight down on Jennifer’s other side.

“I’m glad you’re back,” you tell Jennifer, and for a while she doesn’t stop saying how much she loves you – pressing her face into your neck, as if something’s wrong. “H-” you gather yourself a little, “how was the – thing?”

“I’m fucking sick of it all,” she says, still nestled within you. “The whole time I was just thinking about being back here. With you.”

You find her hand and hold it tight. “You’re safe now,” you say gently.

“Yeah,” adds Rhea, “we’ve got you.”

“Have – have you two just been fucking, the whole time I’ve been away?” asks Jennifer. There’s no judgement in it, just curiosity, but it still goes straight to the black pit of your stomach.

“Not the whole time,” teases Rhea.

“You sent that picture,” you say, “it set us off,” and while this is true as you say it you know that it is a lie. And now you have the painful realisation that you never even sent a reply – but Jennifer giggles in response.

“There was one thing,” she adds, immediately you are in that intense, bottomless state of not knowing where this is going. “I did think – well, we’re not, Rhea, you don’t want children, right?”

Rhea runs a hand over her rock-hard stomach, as if imagining it swollen by pregnancy, and shrugs “Could be a novelty act, I don’t think it’s been done before.” Then she thinks, and says “There’s a reason for that, of course.”

“See, I just think,” Jennifer falters, she’s looking at you now, touching your chest, eyes full of hope, “I really wanted to – would you not come in her, any more?” And a nervous glance to Rhea with it.

“Yes!” you blurt out, faster than you’d meant to. “I mean, sure, if that’s what you want.”

Rhea gently takes Jennifer’s hands in hers, the muscles bulge in her arms but you can tell she’s not using any force here. “I have to ask,” she says, “is this about you wanting it all to yourself?” For a second, Jennifer is frozen. Then she nods, violently, all of her hair shaking with the motion. And Rhea’s expression softens, and she says “I’m so glad you said that. In fact, never mind that, I’m proud of you, I’m glad you’re setting a boundary. This whole time I’ve been worried that you’re just going along with all of this but really you haven’t actually liked it.”

“O-of course not!” insists Jennifer. Rhea smiles gently down at her, and kisses her gently on the cheek, another thing you really wish you’d done.

“Are you sure?” you ask her, and she gives you the same shaky, exaggerated nod she did before, but it’s the expression on her face that really gives you the answer.

“That’s good,” says Rhea, and brings her hands up to Jennifer’s shoulders, and starts to rub them gently. “Because in that case, I’ve got a surprise for you.” And she pulls Jennifer down, face-first, into her vagina, because of course she is not fully dressed either. “A nice sticky treat for you.”

Jennifer gives a little blocked “Hmph!” of surprise, but that gives way to the sloppier sounds of her tucking in to Rhea – and, yes, what Rhea took from you about half an hour ago. You goggle at them, not knowing what to think or do. Rhea looks fondly back at you, and with one hand in Jennifer’s hair reaches out to you with the other.

“I think she’d really like it-” Rhea begins – and then a little start, a flush, that shows Jennifer’s tongue has found a particularly soft area. She gathers herself and tries again, “I think you should do her from behind. Since she wants you so much.” And down between her thighs, there’s that frantic nod again.

You climb around behind Jennifer, and ease down her underwear – but before you do anything more you lean over her and whisper in her ear how much you love her, and how you want this to be good for her. Even when she says something that is of course muffled by Rhea’s vulva but sounds a lot like “fucking stick it in before I burst” it feels as if you are taking advantage.

#rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley x you #rpf #rhea ripley fanfiction #rhea ripley smut

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beedlemania · 25 days

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Ur agere Davybaby headcannons making me realize I do that shit too… I ended up looking into what age regression actually was in like medical terms and in the community and stuff and I can’t believe Davy Jones headcannons are what made me realize…

In honor of this (I guess) I’m gonna give you some Transmasc Davy Agere thoughts.

Davy doing agere in a subconscious attempt to relive the boyhood he was denied growing up as a little girl. The Monkees canonical matching race car sheets is because Davy kept getting excited about them when he saw them in the department stores but he was too embarrassed to admit he wanted race car seats so the other guys got race car sheets and Davy was like “well it’d be weird if all of you had them and I didn’t so I guess I’ve gotta get some now!”

The other monkees sharing things they did as a kid and relating over classic like 9 year old boy things to do (like digging up worms and stuff) making Davy think about how he wasn’t allowed to play in the dirt cause he had to keep his dresses clean and then trying to convince the guys that he wants to those things but for *them* so *they* can relive their fond childhood memories and then when they start doing the things they enjoyed as kids they still like it but Davy is just ecstatic about it so whenever he suggests it they still go and play with him because he’s just so cute when he gets that happy. Whenever it rains Davy still picks up the worms he sees on the sidewalks and drops them in the dirt. Davy still falls asleep on long car drives and has to get carried in the house.

Davy has a collection of toys and when he’s alone he’ll play out little scenes with them. Davy will go outside and play in the sand for hours and then when the other monkees go out to see what he was doing he had dug out little ‘canyons’ for his toys and some of them are still left in the mounds of sand so they pick them up and take them inside (rinsing off the sand) and put them in Davys toybox (which Davy refuses to call a toybox because he’s an adult and those obviously aren’t toys they’re…something else)

Also Davy has opinions about play structures which he doesn’t realize is strange but Micky really likes getting his honest reviews on every single play structure they see. I have more thoughts but this has been enough projecting onto characters for one evening.

(And while I have your attention, ur fanfic is great and so enjoyable. Very tasting king, never stop 💛)

Despite popular belief, The Monkees is a very educational show 🤭🫡

And I was thinking along these lines last night omg you extracted from my brain!

He always gets super jealous when the guys are reminiscing their childhoods and all the things they were allowed to do that he wasn’t. He always tries to play along because he’s embarrassed to admit he never did those things. One or more of the guys will pick up on that and explain a story in way too much detail for Davy’s benefit so that he can pick up on all the little things he missed. Then when they go out to relive it, Davy knows what’s up.

Davy would sometimes hate regressing because it’s not ‘manly’ enough and it would make him insecure. He pushes himself to his limits every day to come across as masculine even though he has nothing to prove. Being the odd one out in a house of cis men has made him develop a bit of toxic masculinity around himself. Sometimes he pushes himself that bit too far and breaks. The guys have to nudge him into that headspace to help him.

Davy has lots of ‘boy’ toys but he also has a small collection of ‘girl’ toys that he used to have as a kid because despite everything, they’re a comfort. He keeps those well hidden and never lets them out of his room. (The guys have all seen them and don’t really care but they know Davy cares).

Davy never grew up with toy cars or learning mechanics and stuff like that since (it’s the 60’s) that’s a ‘man’s job’. Because of this he’s completely clueless on car models, parts, repairs, etc so Micky will get him toy cars and explain the different parts to him in a kid friendly way. (He can only teach Davy these things while he’s little so it doesn’t seem condescending). Micky is the first to get the race car sheets because ‘I always loved cars!’ Then Mike because ‘well the Monkeemoblie is my baby and this is almost the same’ then peters like ‘hey Davy we should match them!’ Because Peter knows he has to verbally ask Davy and make it seem like his idea so Davy will agree. (He’ll be like ‘urgg whatever peter sure’ then turn away and be like ‘YES’)

#I love love love your headcanons!!!#also thank you I’m glad you liked it :p #trans Davy #my little guy to project onto <3 #the monkees #davy jones #monkees headcanons #mike nesmith #peter tork #micky dolenz #davybaby

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sapphic-sex-ed · 2 months

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I know this is just a me problem & I need to just suck it up and deal with it but I feel... incredibly guilty about not wanting to have sex with my friends. For one, I've never had a friend actually want to engage in that with me so a part of it might be me feeling bad about "not being good enough", but another part of me feels like the queer community is advancing to new places that gives them more joy, freedom, and love and it feels like since the topic is so triggering to me (for no good reason mind you) that I just don't really belong? I haven't been able to talk to other queer people or go to pride events because I'm in such a small, homophobic town. But I feel like if I showed up to a queer event, I just wouldn't fit in and they just would not like me. Not only for looking overly masculine and kinda yucky (not in way thats celebrated in the queer community) after my transition, but because the accomodations I would need for my triggers would just be too unrealistic to expect them to accomodate to (I've been in therapy for nearly 10 yrs, unfortunately some triggers just dont go away). And also bc I'm a sapphic trans guy and ,, man idk if that would piss people off.

I just want to ask, is it okay if I still view sex as sacred for myself but don't think poorly of people who have casual sex or sex with friends? If anything, I'm envious of them for being able to have such a connection to their friends that I would never be comfortable having.

I’m glad to hear you’re seeing a therapist, it’s very clear from your ask that you’re struggling with very low self-worth and I’ve been there and it sucks.

As for your question itself — sex positivity and sex acceptance are about finding a sexuality that feels good for you and don’t shame those whose sexuality feels good to them but isn’t the same as yours. If sex is something sacred to you that is for you alone or only to share with a select few then that is always valid as long as it feels good to you. At the same time, having sex with friends and having multiple partners is just as valid as long as it’s what the people practicing it wants. Neither one has the right to shame or devalue the other.

I notice a pattern in your ask, where you make claims about how you feel people will respond to you. This is a normal thing our human brains do, but this anxiety seems to be preventing you from going out and trying. You think but you do not know that people wouldn’t accept you. Thou think but you do not know that you wouldn’t fit in. Internet queer discourse is poison basically and people in the irl communities are usually a lot more accepting. Online we kinda forget that we’re interacting with other people, but irl we can’t do that as easily (although dehumanization of minorities is a thing, so not impossible but it takes a lot more organized, structural effort). In Swedish we have this expression “provtänka” which roughly translates to “try-thinking” or “attempting-think” where we sort of say a thought we had to other people, usually friends, to try it out. It can be something beneficial like “wait isn’t it strange that inflation is up 4% but benefits have only increased by 2,6%?” and then we can all curse capitalism together. But it can also be (and this is a real example of a thing I said when I was 16) “there are so many bad parents like shouldn’t the government like make you take tests and and out a license for you to reproduce so no children get harmed” and your friends will rightfully go “no wtf??? That’s such an over-reach of government power what are you on???”. Like you try out a thought that you haven’t thought about that much or aren’t that invested in and you do a vibe check basically. Like that pregnancy thought was whack but I hadn’t really thought about it. Luckily my friends were reasonable people who asked what tf was wrong with me and explained why that was a horrible thing and I haven’t thought that way since. Online, you sorta either get jumped which has the effect of you doubling down on your not even fully formed opinion bc you get defensive, or you find other whack jobs who agree and that’s how radicalization happens.

So to the point bc I lost it bc that who I am as a person: people are a lot more forgiving offline and if someone has doubts initially, they’re less likely to voice them, and if they do they’re likely to get checked, and if they don’t just spending time with you will humanize you (which is why people from bigger cities are usually more open-minded, bc exposure to people different than them).

And a last point to wrap up: you write that you’re “envious of them for being able to have such a connection to their friends that I would never be comfortable having”. Relationships aren’t a hierarchy. Romantic relationships aren’t superior to friendships, and sex with friends isn’t superior to hook-ups or long-term partners, and partnered sex isn’t superior to solo sex. They’re different flavors and not everyone will like the same thing. I can’t stand olives but I love pineapple on pizza. I once dated a girl who despised potatoes. Neither is better than the other. I can’t really understand why she would hate potatoes and most people I believe find it strange, but like that’s just her preference. And I know many people find me strange for my choices in pizza toppings (pineapple, banana and curry).

That is to say: it sucks when you feel left out of some type of relationship you’ll never have — I’m an only child hand have always been envious of people with siblings — but that doesn’t mean that type is “better” or that that type of connection is “deeper” than what’s possible within the types of relationships that would fit you.

-mod liz

#mod liz #sorry for the ramble lmao #queer #relationshps #kink mention

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