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#note the similarities here will ya???
taikanyohou · 2 years
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VEGAS + PETE | KinnPorsche (2022). TEAM + WIN | Between Us (2022).
#vegaspete#teamwin#kinnporsche#between us#asianlgbtqdramas#*#faiza gifs#tw suicide#i just find it .... flabbergasting that some people really truly do not know just how fucked up and intertwined in trauma teamwin#actually are#like most people i think assume that team's trauma /isn't that deep/. oh my god yall are gonna be in for a SHOCK.#the other day i made post loosely paralleling teamwin and vegaspete and someone said in the notes#'are you actually comparing these 2 op .... lemme get this right' .... and i was like uhhhhhhh YA i am.#bc there ARE similarities that you CAN dig out from them both even though theyre 2 such completely different couples#like this isnt me even REACHING here. this is just. IN PLAIN SIGHT.#both team and vegas are extremely suicidal people that think a LOT about death and ending all the pain they have in them through death.#they both have shitty absent fathers.#vegas' dad blames him for all this misfortunes#whilst team's dad blames him for ... well i wont spoil it but if the show goes according to the novel then /its THAT/.#i just. yeah. *HOLDS MY 2 BELOVED COUPLES IN EITHER HANDS* they have so MUCH trauma trauma trauma.#and its not like their other halves - pete and win - are trauma free. hell. THEY HAVE THEIR OWN TRAUMA.#and vegaspete and teamwin are TRULY CODEPENDENT in their own ways. vegaspete are moreso more obviously.#but teamwin are in their own subtle way too. team gives win the VALIDATION he CRAVES. he gets HOOKED onto it.#like. idk man yeah teamwin aren't toxic. but they're not ~healthy~ either. so yaaaa.
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hanzajesthanza · 1 year
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inkskinned · 3 months
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i don't mean to sound ungrateful, but as a content creator on this site, there's a part of me that's like. they absolutely just stole my work.
i'm not, like, unaware that tumblr has been shuffling downhill for years now. sometimes i play with the idea of switching platforms, turning myself into the shark. i often get tens of thousands of notes - i could be "doing numbers" on a platform that actually pays me to do so. i could have statistics that i could use to sell myself, i could rebrand and make content pay-to-play and make brand deals. i could have the other life, i mean.
but i don't want to. i like the quiet nature of tumblr. i like that it still feels like i'm writing poetry, not like i'm fulfilling ad spots. i like the community, and that i can sometimes still take someone by surprise and write something that really speaks to them. i like the tags and reading things like oh of course it's fucking inkskinned i love you inkskinned you gay mess. my girlfriend recently told me that people tag things "inkskinned" because they assume it is similar to tagging "creative writing". that's wild. i made this word up when i was 19, and have always assumed people tag me in things so i read it (and i often do). i have nothing but love and gratitude for you all, for this tiny scoop of family.
and i haven't made any money off it. i had opportunities, and i turned them down. i could have sold this thing like a thousand times. i thought about moving my work elsewhere - over and over and over i thought about it. i weighed each option specifically. but my tumblr felt like ... it's for you guys, only. if you're still here and reading this, you deserve to do it for free.
tumblr has now, most likely, skimmed my work (and yours) in order to make money. i will never see a single cent for that violation. something about landlords, i guess - my work pays their rent.
i just lost my job on valentine's day, and am working on scrambling for solutions. i am writing this to a blog that they will probably scrape with AI. and like, what number to do you think it was? do you think it was only a couple hundred thousand? no way it was close to a million, right? my time, effort, energy - it belongs to someone else now. how many silver pieces for them to completely sell out their user base.
and it's kind of like - funny? when it isn't very-sad. because i personally don't know what to do, ya know? i might as well move to a different platform, where my efforts are ai-scraped but could eventually pay me. where i know my privacy is the cost - but it could result in actual money. anyway. i need to figure out how i'm paying for meds. i need to email like six people about COBRA benefits.
my work is powering someone else's AI. it will be a beautiful fabricated poem, made from words i've already said.
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nvuy · 2 months
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hijacked — boothill
summary. a mission to retrieve some files from a banquet hall goes wayward south when a galaxy ranger shows up to ruin your night—and score some bonus kisses while he’s at it.
notes. save me space cowboy… save me… remembered his entire body is robotic except his head. the possibilities to hack it and take over……….. ngh
HEY YOU!! there’s a sequel now.
warnings. little bit of threatening, mind control/hacking/hijacking? you take over his body for like a few minutes? is that a warning?
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“Hey, pretty thing.”
Target locked. Your scanners had already tracked him before you could even realise he was speaking to you.
You swiftly hid away the USB drive in your purse.
Did he know?
It seemed his own eye enhancements—although a lot less subtle than yours—were scanning you down as well. How transactional. You’d hoped the walls you’d put up were enough to keep whatever technology he had at bay. Or at least, not trigger any alarms.
“You looked lonely. Was g’nna buy you a drink. Help you loosen up a bit.” He swished his own drink in your face for good measure. The coupe glass in his hands looked odd. He didn’t seem like a cocktail man. Not at all.
He looked like a whiskey man. Hard whiskey. With ice. In a tumbler with ribbed glass. You could picture it.
He just looked so out of place at the banquet.
He wasn’t even following the dress code. He was wearing boots, and a pair of old pants with zips along the calves. A hat with a white feather woven into the fabric rested on a head of long white hair with splashes of black around his face.
“No thanks,” you said with a wave. You tried to discreetly scan down his body, searching for any sort of hint of how you could get into his system.
His pants and what little material of his jacket hid most of the metal of his body. Internally, you cursed at it. He had no clear openings in his neck or arms. His head seemed entirely organic.
No weak spots.
“N’aww. Shame.”
The front door felt a lot further away now. Even more so, knowing he was most definitely here for you. He hadn’t even introduced himself yet. You had a feeling he knew he didn’t need to.
“Was g’nna ask ya to dance.”
You laughed awkwardly. “I can’t dance in these shoes.”
“Take ‘em off. Who cares?” he bantered playfully. “I’ll watch out for ‘em if they’re expensive.”
“They’re priceless,” you quipped back. “All of me is.”
“Good. You know your worth.”
You were actually worth about fifteen million, as according to your wanted status by the IPC. You weren’t sure if this man was a part of them, though members of the IPC were always very adamant on letting you know that, yes, they did work at the IPC. It was usually the first thing that came out of their mouths.
Questioning if they actually worked at the IPC opened another entire can of worms.
You didn’t feel the need to ask. Not in that moment, at least.
“And what’s yours?” you asked him with a bat of your lashes.
He winked. “Guess.”
You smiled and scanned him down again. “Depends. I’d have to see what you’re made of.”
“Naughty.” He leaned back against the wall with you. “You sure you don’t want that drink? It’s a cosmopolitan.”
Very sure. You were convinced that he’d just taken the drink from one of the server’s trays. You couldn’t imagine he’d walked up to the bar and requested it for himself.
“You strike me as a whiskey man,” you eased. It came past your lips like butter.
He flashed his teeth in warning.
Then, he sipped his drink. “You’re good. Anything else you can read with your fancy eyes?”
You stopped short.
He did know. It wasn’t a surprise, not at all. He wasn’t entirely human. He must have been equipped with similar technology to realise just how advanced yours was.
You realised then with a shaky breath that you had the same vision enhancements as he did. An even match, unable to read through to each other.
He must have had so much more, too. You only had so many enhancements, whereas he was made almost entirely of metal. The thought of amount of different codings and technology he had crammed into every wire of his body gave you a headache.
Bad idea. You shouldn’t have provoked him. You needed to retreat. You needed to get home, preferably safely, with the USB stored nice and snug in your purse.
You tried not to let your nervousness show, but by the way he was staring at you, you knew he could read your face.
“That’s it, then. You’ve figured out my party trick.” You got up from the wall. “Thank you for the offer. The drink, I mean.” You cleared your throat. “I’ll be going now.”
“I’m not scaring you off, am I?” He got up off the wall too.
He hadn’t taken his eyes off of you.
“Not at all.” When you turned to face him, he was smiling so wide his eyes had crinkled. “Have a good night.”
“At least let me walk you out,” he insisted. He also offered to hold your purse, to which you quickly declined. That only made him smile impossibly wider. “What sort of man am I to not see a pretty thing like you get home safe?”
You headed towards the hallway, knowing he was right behind you.
The banquet was still in full swing, barely even close to ending. Most of the cast were drunk or getting there. Heels had been discarded, some missing their pair, skewed all over the dancefloor like glitter.
The golden chandelier in the main room was yet to be pulled from the ceiling. You were surprised nobody had tried to swing from it yet.
You dodged chattering groups and couples in the hallway—one of them had decided to put on a full display while right next to an unoccupied bedroom, right there in the centre of the hall.
Another one was gagging dangerously close to your feet.
You shouldered past them. “Stop following me, Ranger.”
“Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.” You felt his hair brush over your shoulder.
You knew he had a weapon. He wouldn’t have come to threaten you without one.
Before you could reach the door handle, he grabbed your wrist, pulled you backwards, and into the unoccupied guest room that the couple hadn’t bothered to take.
He shut the door with a loud slam, though not before hearing someone whistle out in the corridor.
Your head snapped towards him. He was leaning on the door, his arms crossed, looking almost unbothered.
“We can play this game all day, pumpkin. I got time.” He waved you off with a grin. “Give me the files. I’m askin’ nicely. I won’t force ya to hand ‘em over. Yet.”
You gritted your teeth.
You were so fucking close. So close to getting out of here, and then he had to come—this walking hunk of metal and scrap—and ruin everything.
Nothing ever went your fucking way anyway. You shouldn’t have been shocked something like this would happen.
You held your purse tightly in your hands. All of this was pointless. The dress, the heels, the hair, the nails, the makeup. All of it.
You just hoped by some miracle that he hadn’t found your locator beacon yet. You’d hidden it well; within the bushes outside away from anyone’s line of sight, but he wasn’t just anyone. He could see things a lot of people couldn’t.
“C’mon. You know you wanna…” He smiled sweetly for good measure. It looked like a threat. When he leaned to the side, the golden barrel of a gun flashed beneath his belt.
You could try to make a backup. Right then. You had what you needed in your watch. He’d probably stop you before it was complete.
Or…
Or what? What else could you do?
Your locator beacon wasn’t responding, though it hadn’t been broken. Most likely deactivated temporarily. You bounced on your heels.
You then formed the worst idea of your life.
With shaky hands, you walked towards him slowly. You reached into your purse, feeling for the cold plastic of the black USB he wanted to get his grubby hands on.
“Knew you’d come ‘round.” He held out his hand expectantly.
You fished the USB from your bag.
Then, before you could place it into his palm, you tripped and almost broke your nose on his torso. Your hands splayed desperately onto his chest to keep your face from shattering on impact.
He was quick to grab your arms to steady you with a surprised grunt.
There was a whirring sound, and then the sound of something mechanical and wrong. Foreign. Not from his body, but from yours.
The spaces beneath his joints lit up abright yellow for a moment before his hands loosened from your arms.
You grinned. Gotcha.
When you pulled back, he witnessed you pull a strange light from beneath his skin before you held it along your fingers.
When he blinked, you had an entire copy of his body in the palm of your hand. A hologram formed of his entire artificial makeup. Every crevice of his body, all of the metal that weaved to make him who he was.
All of it in your hand, with puppet strings attached.
It was missing just his head.
He froze. And then, he rushed out a simple, “what did you do?”
You tapped on his holographic arm on the screen. “Hijacked.”
When you moved it, his arm twitched to life.
Against his will, he pulled the gun from his holster and dropped it to the floor. It clattered uselessly onto the carpet.
He could only simply stare as his body moved against his will. There was no way to even twitch a finger with all his might.
It was like you had shut down all of his systems and replaced them with your own.
He should’ve seen this coming.
You whistled as you studied the model of him in your hands. When you tapped onto his neck, it zoomed in to show every single wire and thread of metal, as well as an accompanying string of coding.
“I don’t need any special enhancements to read you. What sort of cyborg comes in alone to try and stop me? You know who I am, don’t you?”
He wasn’t able to move his body. He said not a word.
“Somebody clearly doesn’t understand their body.” You patted his chest. His fans had kicked in. You could hear them whirring.
He was glaring at you.
“Did the IPC send you?”
After a moment, he scoffed. “Hardly. I don’t work for those… people.” It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but decided against it.
“Huh.” You didn’t think he was lying. “So… you’re not concerned about my bounty?”
“You said yourself you were priceless,” he countered easily. Despite his position, he was still grinning. “And besides, I’m sure my bounty is heaps bigger than yours.”
You almost snapped. He’d come to gloat, even at a disadvantage.
“You look better with your mouth shut,” you spat. You shoved the lining of code in his face for him to see, making the holographic blue screen as large as you possibly could. “I could make you tear yourself apart. I could make you forget who you are. I could alter whatever sort of brain you have in there. Watch yourself.”
Still glaring, but this time his lips sealed almost instantly.
You made him stand ram rod straight as you turned around, now eyeing a golden vanity next to the bed. The bedroom was surprisingly clean, save for a few empty glasses strewn about. No stains, no messes.
You sat down in the chair and angled the mirror so you could keep your eye on him.
You breathed out, trying not to stare at him for too long. You could feel your irritation growing, and it was showing on your face. If you stared at him for any longer, you feared you’d pull his limbs off with your own bare hands.
You fished out the powder from your purse and leaned closer to the mirror.
Maybe if you looked better, you’d feel better.
“You’re seriously dollin’ yourself up right now?” he asked, briskly annoyed.
You dabbed the sponge beneath your eyes. “Can’t let anyone think I let you put your hands on me. I have standards.”
He had nice hair. You weren’t sure if it was real, though. You weren’t sure if he could even grow hair. He was almost entirely artificial, save for his head.
He didn’t seem to age—his face, at least. You weren’t sure how old he was supposed to be, but his organic skin still looked fresh, as if left untouched and well taken care of.
Maybe it’s because that was all he had left of him.
You snapped the powder shut.
The ranger sneered. “Yeah, yeah. I’d beat you in a fight anyway.”
“‘Course you would,” you answered easily. You pulled a stick of gloss from your bag. You swiped the lipgloss over your lips, fixing it with the tip of your nail. “That’s not what I’m talking about, though.”
You stood from the chair, placing the gloss back in your purse.
“You’d never hit me, would you?”
His face almost lit up with fury.
It was absolutely hilarious.
“You’re so lucky I can't move,” he threatened. “You wouldn’t recognise your pretty face in the mirror.”
“Such a gentleman.” You stood on the tips of your toes to press your lips to his cheek. You hoped the sticky gloss bothered him, knowing he would be unable to wipe it off of him. You hoped it stained his milky skin a nice glittery bubblegum pink.
You hoped the scent of your perfume lingered on his skin, and he never forgot your name.
“Of course, gorgeous.” That same mocking tone. “Anything for you.”
You held the USB up to his lips. “Open.”
Begrudgingly, he did so.
You slipped the stick past his lips until his teeth caught onto the plastic and held it still.
“You can have it. I already got what I needed anyway.”
You kissed his other cheek for good measure, lingering for a moment before you pulled away. Two pink glittering stains on his face now; perfectly symmetrical.
“I’ll be thinking of you.” And that you would. You winked at him. “Bye, Boothill.”
Then, with sudden grid lines of yellow forming over your figure, the locator beacon buzzed to life, and you disappeared.
In the blink of an eye, you were outside in the cold night air. There were few people out in the front garden of the building, and none had spotted you.
You picked up the gadget and quickly left. A copy of his body and the USB were now a collection in your own personal belongings.
As soon as you vanished, Boothill regained control of his limbs and fell to the floor, trembling with the after effects of your invasion. His teeth were gritted as he pulled himself up onto the guest bed.
He spat the USB out before he could bite down and damage it.
He held it between his thumb and index finger.
There was a smear of your lipgloss on the side of the USB stick.
Mission accomplished, he supposed.
He also had two matching lipgloss stains on his skin as a trophy. He could see how stupid he looked in the vanity mirror.
He snickered with clenched, shaking fists.
You smelled like strawberry.
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rafesslxt · 2 months
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Showerhead 2 | mattheo riddle
pt. 2 — you can find pt. 1 here
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summary: after you and mattheo had some fun in the shower, you two can‘t stop thinking about each other and that night. But who gives in first to sin again after a little jealousy?
words: 5,1k
warnings: heavy dirty talk again, cursing, making out, dry humping, teasing, controlling, praising, bj, unprotected p in v, shower, swallowing, legilimency (mind reading),
note: you don‘t have to read part 1 for this part but have fun if you want to
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— in the great hall —
After that night in the shower 2 weeks ago, I couldn‘t stop thinking about it. I dreamed about it in my sleep, daydreamed about it in class and lunch while Hermione talked about some book we needed to read to understand everything in potions.
I hated it but everytime we crossed paths, he winked at me and I couldn't help myself but start blushing. As soon as I saw his face, I saw it between my legs.
"Y/n? Are you even listening?" Hermione says and shakes me a litte at my shoulder. "What? Yeah yeah of course, I'm gonna read it." They all look at each other before their eyes are on me again. "We were actually talking about how Cormac seems to have quite interest in you." Harry then continues.
I start laughing loud, looking at them as If each of them has 3 heads." What the hell are you talking about?" "Told ya she's not listening.." Ron says, raising his eyebrows as he bites into his toast.
"I thought he‘s interested in Hermione?" I ask as my laughter calms down a bit. "Harry heard him talking about how he would - well.. do certain things to you." My amused face turns into a disgusting one as I hear what Ron says.
"Yeah and guess who‘s got an invention to Slughorn‘s dinner?" Hermione says with raised eyebrows.
Ron looks at her shoked. "What?? That prick got one and I didn‘t?"
"Oh god no.." a few days ago Harry, Hermione and myself got an invention to tonights Slughorn‘s dinner for his favorite students. ".. but wait, how do you know who‘s coming?" I ask her. "I just asked him after the last lesson of potions. It‘s Neville, Ginny, Blaise Zabini, Mattheo Riddle, Corma –" "Mattheo Riddle?" I ask her shocked, looking at her with wide eyes.
I would see him again? Like.. this close and with people around us? My mind is racing as Hermione answers. "Yeah well, you know he‘s really smart and good in potions." "And he has an interest in special students and Mattheo is.. well – special." Harry comments.
Ron snorts and talks with a full mouth. "Mh yeaw hiff fatha was "speschal".
Hermione rolls his eyes at his full mouth and looks at me again. "Why are you so suprised by his name?" she asks me a little suspicious. " oh uh- just suprised, i always thought Mattheo is uh - not interested in things like that."
"Why would chou think about wat Mattheo is-" "Ron just eat and shut up!" I snap at him making the other two widen their eyes a bit.
I collect my things and stand up from the table. "I‘m gonna go to.. god i don‘t know I‘m gonna go." I say, walking off before they can answer. Because it‘s the weekend I luckily don‘t have classes today. I don‘t think I could concentrate in one of them after the information I just got. God why him? Why me? Maybe I can say I feel sick.. no he would know. I can‘t back down.
I walk down a hall, not thinking where I am going and suddenly crash into something hard but not as hard as a wall. My book and writing stuff falls to the ground and I look up, staring right into the face of Mattheo.
My brain went blank in this monent. "What princess? Aren‘t you happy to see me?" he grins down at me before he gets down and picks up my stuff. "Hm I remember a similar moment, same position." He smiles even more when he sees my red cheeks and not talking mouth. As he gives me my stuff he presses his mouth to my ear and whispers "I‘m looking forward to tonight" And with that, he‘s gone.
I‘m so fucked.
— at the evening —
" Do you know what you‘re wearing?" I ask Hermione while I put on some makeup. I hear her sigh and she goes "yeah I have this one dress I really like. What about you?" I shake my head as I search for my lipliner. " Not really, but I have enough dresses so I‘ll find something." Hermione laughs at my comment as she pulls out her dress and changes into it.
After I‘m done with my makeup and hair, I walk over to my closet, looking for a nice dress.
"What about this one? It would fit perfectly for the occasion." She says as she pulls out a dress of mine. It is long and black, with cute little arms on it. "It‘s pretty but I want something.. else." As i go trough my clothes I think about Mattheo again and what would impress him. God I need to stop it.
"Well what are you looking for?" "Hmm something likeee.. this." It‘s perfect. It‘s short but not too short, i know it sits beautifully on me and.. it‘s green.
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(imagine something like this but in some green tone and longer so it‘s more school approved)
Hermione raises her eyebrows and looks at me. "Are you sure? Isn‘t it a little too.. party?" I love her for how she always chose her words wisely and with a knowledge for not hurting and judging people. I know what she meant but she would never think about judging me. Even when I put my clothes on she wouldn‘t pick, she makes me feel great in them.
"Yeah, I‘m sure." I smile, putting it on. When I look into the mirror I smile even more, thinking about how Mattheo will react seeing me in it.
As the time comes we take our purses and walk outside our dorms, meeting Harry and Ron in the common room. "You both look great." Harry tells us like the gentlemen he is but Ron just scans me like a little hater and looks at me. "Isn‘t that a little too flashy?" "Ron!" Hermione hits him on the shoulder.
"Don‘t be mad at what you can‘t have Ronald." I say grinning and winking at him before I link my arm into Harry‘s with Hermione doing the same on his right side.
We walked through Hogwarts, towards the dinner and the closer we got the more my heart started beating as If I‘m running a marathon.
I open the door in front of us after taking one last deep breath and walk inside with my two friends.
Everyone was already there, seated perfectly. "Oh hello you three! I‘m so glad you made it. Please choose a seat and get comfortable." Professor Slughorn greets us. I always liked him, even tho many say he‘s a little weird sometimes but I think thats exactly what I do like about him.
As I walk towards an empty seat, I scan the table, looking at Mattheo when I found him but his eyes were already on my dress.
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Quickly I look away, seeing that Cormacs eyes were on me too which made me gag a little.
But god Mattheo looks so good. He wears a simple white shirt with a black tie and black slacks. Damn what I would give to ride his thigh in these – "Y/n you‘re staring." Hermione whispers into my ear, making me realise i stared right at Mattheo, but to my suprise he‘s still looking, not breaking eye contact for a second.
I gulp and look away, feeling my cheeks getting warm. God I hate it so much what kind of affect he has on me. I can‘t be the only one..
Wait. I‘m a woman. I can definitely tease him and make him feel the same.
The dinner goes on, nothing special besides Ginny who came in crying. Definitely have to ask her with Hermione about that later in detail.
As desert comes I look around the table, meeting Cormacs eyes. He licks of some ice cream from his fingers and wiggles his eybrows at me. Oh god I think I‘m gonna throw up.
As soon as I can I look away to Mattheo who was giving Cormac one of his death stares. Interesting.
I don‘t really know why i think it‘s a good idea but i do think it is. So I lean back a little, presenting the low cut at the front of my chest. I see Mattheo‘s eyes flicker to my chest and so do Cormac‘s but Mattheo‘s eyes switch back really fast to Cormac and give him a second glare. Really interesting.
I smile triumphal and lean a bit forwards again, pressing my boobs together this time. Instantly I get a headache but a really intense one. I hiss in pain which makes Harry look at me worried. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah I just got an really bad headache.“ i whisper back, wondering what it caused.
Soon the dinner was over and everyone thanked Slughorn for the invitation. "I‘ll stay and try to figure out what that missing memory of Slughorn‘s is." Harry whispers to us before staying behind.
My headache got a bit better but It still didn‘t go away. As we walked trough the door I said to Hermione and Ginny "You guys go to the common room, I‘ll follow. I just wanna get some advil from Miss Pomfrey.“ They nod and tell me that they will go into Ginny‘s room to talk more privately.
It‘s already late and a bit after curfew but Professor Slughorn told us he made sure we would get in no trouble If someone sees us.
I rub my head slighty, trying to ease the pain on my way but nothing helped.
Then, out if nowhere a hand slaps over my mouth and a arm wraps around me, pressing me against a body. I scream into the hand, trying to get myself free until I see who the hand and arm belongs to.
"You didn‘t think I would let you go off that easily in that little dress of yours huh?“ Mattheo breathes against my face as it was only a few inches away from mine.
He slowly takes his hand away from my mouth, letting me speak. "What do you mean?" I ask and try the innocent act but he doesn‘t buy it.
"Oh princess, princess, princess. You can‘t fool me. I know that you wore this excuse of an dress for me. Fuck and also in my house color's? That‘s no fucking coincidence."
I gulp at his words and the fact that he knows who I wore it for. There‘s not even a single chance for me to lie. "And what If I did wore it for someone else?" Only one way and that‘s to push his last buttons. Oh how I wanted to push that buttons until –
"Someone else, yeah? Then who was it for?" "Cormac." As soon as his name left my mouth I regretted it. I see his jaw clenching and his grin fading. "Cormac yeah? So you didn‘t thought about me the whole dinner?" I slowly shake my head no, not daring to move now.
"So you‘re wet for him right now? Not me?" "What? I‘m not–" but as soon as I move my legs I feel it too. Shit. When I only look up at him his grin comes back.
"Yeah that‘s what I thought.. so why don‘t we skip this bullshit and you come with me?" Before I can even answer him, he takes my hand and pulls me trough the corridors, towards the Slytherin common room. " Mattheo I can't-" "Shut up." he hisses and whispers something under his breath so the doors to his common room would open.
"Can't fucking believe you pulled such a show in front of that stupid dick." he growled quietly before we reach his dorm. I start smiling as I see he's getting mad at the fact that Cormac saw me in that dress. "T'fuck you smiling about huh?"
As we enter his room I notice that there is only one bed which makes me wonder. "Don't you have a roommate?" "No, I have my own room." I scoff at his answer and look around his room. It has a big bed beside the window of the room and a little nightstand beside it. On the other side of the room is a big couch and a armchair.
But before I could think about it any further, he pulls me into his lap, face towards his, after he sat down on the armchair. "You know, you could have just told me If you missed me princess. Didn't need to dress all up for me." He puts his hands on my hips, grabbing them tightly.
I roll my eyes at him and act as If I didn't already enjoy his touch. "Didn't miss you." I say, looking away from him. He chuckles and pulls my face back to his with his fingers on my chin. "Are you sure?" I only nod and look into his brown eyes. They look so dark without any light in the room, that they send even more shivers down my spine than usual.
"Is your head better? Still in any pain?" he asks me grinning. "Yeah they-" wait. I never told him about my headache. Or could he hear when I told Hermione and Ginny? Or when Harry asked me at dinner?
His hands slowly wander down to my tights were my dress slowly rose up and placed them there, squeezing my flesh lightly. I felt his breath on my neck, giving me goosebumps. "It's gotten better, right?" he asks again. His lips ghosted over my skin, making me bite my lip.
"How do you know?" I ask him in a whisper. "I know everything that goes through your pretty little mind baby."
I tried to figure out what he meant by that but I couldn't concentrate with his hands on my skin and his lips almost against my neck. I need him so much.
"What baby, can't concentrate? Too much for you already?" he coos and finally kisses my neck, nibbling on the skin between his lips.
I can't believe how easy he gets under my skin with his kisses and whispers, not even doing anything. " I know you dreamed about me these last two weeks, thought about me at every chance you got. In class, in the shower, wishing it was me who touched you." he groaned against my throat.
My eyebrows squeeze together at his words. " How would you know that?" "Did you never wonder why your head always hurted at the same times?" I gasp and pull my neck away from him. " Are you reading my mind?" my eyes go wide as he just smiles at me sheepishly. Oh my god, no. This can't be. He's not allowed to know all these private thoughts.
"You don't know how hard it was for me to stay away and wait until you would come back to me but you little minx didn't and after tonight.. I couldn't just let you slip away from me again."
"Y-you can't do that Mattheo. That's not allowed. These are my thoughts." "I know baby but I couldn't help myself after that night in the shower. You were like a dream coming true so submissive and responsive to me. Fuck I'm already getting hard just thinking about it. But you understand I didn't have a chance, right? I couldn't risk you thinking about someone else then me."
He slowly pulled my dress up, exposing my tights and underwear. "God are you for real? Did you plan this?" he groans as he sees my matching set, a dark green lingerie set.
He pulls me closer to him, looking deep into my eyes.
"Ride my thigh." he commands and puts his hands back on my hips. "What?" I ask, looking at him dumbfounded. " It's my thigh or nothing. I'm not helping you getting off this time." I look at him with my mouth hanging open in shock. How could he be so cruel?
"C'mon, ride it baby I know you thought about it at dinner." My cheeks got red as he mentioned that. He dips his head towards my neck again and starts covering it in wet kisses. "Don't test my patience, love." he whispers and tightens his grip on my hips, moving them slowly. I gasp at the sudden friction.
"Feels good, right?" I only nod, closing my eyes as I start to move my hips in circles against his thigh. I feel so dirty doing this but at the same time it feels so good to finally get the friction I needed the last weeks again.
I feel my clit rubbing against my underwear, making me whimper and move my hips faster. "Fuck, look at you. I thought you were desperate back in the shower but now you're just getting yourself off on my thigh like a dirty little whore." I moaned at his words combined with his kisses on my skin. His lips went lower, first towards my collarbones, then further down to my chest.
I feel one hand of him wander to my underwear and pushing it to the side so my bare pussy rubbed against the material of his pants. I whine at the feeling, my hands grabbing his broad shoulders. " Oh my god. I'm so close Mattheo." He laughs wickedly against my chest, pushing down my dress so it hangs at the middle of my body. His mouth wanders to my bra, unclasping it with one hand behind my back.
"You're so beautiful baby, never ever am I waiting two weeks again for that." he growls and starts massaging my boobs and playing with my sensitive nipples.
I arch my back, shivers run down my spine at his touch. The grinding get's more and more intense. "Feel this?" he asks as he takes my hand and puts it on his bulge. "It's just for you." I bite my lip and look down at my hand. It looks so painful that I start massaging it through his pants. He bucks his hips up into my touch, his breathing getting heavier.
While still riding his thigh, I open his pants and push them down together with his boxershorts. His already fully hard cock slaps against his stomach before I take him into my hand. I spread the pre-cum over his tip with my thumb and start moving my hand up and down. "Shit princess.." he hisses, thrusting his hips up into my hand.
"I'm so close Mattheo.." I whine as I almost start rutting my hips against him. "Come on my leg baby, do it." he groans, lips apart.
I let go of his cock for a moment to dig my nails into his shoulders for support as I press my throbbing clit harder against him. He takes his cock into his hand and jerks himself off as he watches me panting and moaning.
With a deep twisting feeling in my stomach I come all over his thigh, riding out my orgasm.
"So good for me, look at how much you came." he says and I look down at his pants, a big wet spot on them now. My legs still shake from my high and I look up at him again.
Mattheo's POV:
Fuck. I don't know what it is but I have a feeling that this girl is going to be the death of me. With hooded eyes she looks up at me and almost get's me to cum in my own hand just from her eyes looking into mine. She had such a chokehold on me, but I will never admit that to her.
I smile down at her before I speak "already fucked out again and I didn't even touched you." The same thing I told her two weeks ago after I've eaten her pussy and she came after 3 minutes.
"Fuck off." she mumbles and falls slightly against my chest. "As much as I enjoy this closeness baby.." I start, nodding towards my rock hard cock, laying against my stomach.
I push a strand of hair behind her ear and whisper into it. " Suck on it." Her eyes go wide and she looks down on me with those innocent eyes again. " Don't tell me you never sucked cock with those pretty lips." I say, looking at her plump lips, almost begging to be fucked.
She rolls her eyes at me again, making me want to choke her until she stops. " I have." Her answer makes my clench my jaw, wishing she would've just said she didn't.
I pushed her down in front of my legs. I grab a pillow from the couch beside us and put it under her knees, making her grin. " Don't tell me you suddenly care for me Matty?" Now I am the one who rolls his eyes.
I grab her pretty hair into a ponytail and push her towards my cock. She takes it into her hand and starts to lick off the pre-cum from my tip. A moment later she starts sucking on my tip, making me smile. I have a feeling this is going to be good.
I hiss as her wet lips and warm mouth take more of my cock into her mouth. I close my eyes and let my head hang backwards. " Come on y/n, show me what you got."
Suddenly she takes me all the way down her throat, my eyes almost bulging out of my head and my mouth falling open. "Oh fuck, yeah!" I groan, gritting my teeth together. I swear I could feel her smile around me.
She bobs her head up and down in a fast pace, making me moan and groan like a little bitch. Fuck, what is it with this girl?
I feel my tip hitting the back of her throat. " Oh Shit." I lift my head up to look down at her. Her eyes are teary and her hands support herself on my tights. I start grinning, wishing I could take a picture of her pretty mouth around me.
Her throat clenches around me so delicious I almost came. "Hmm baby, you know how to suck cock. Gonna give you that." I pant.
One of her hands go down to my balls, massaging them. " Oh - " I throw my head back again, feeling something in my lower stomach. My hips buck up and I hear her gag, only getting me closer to my high. "M' gonna cum down your throat and you'll swallow it, yeah?" I ask her, breathing heavy. It doesn't take me long to cum and fill her mouth. "Fuckkk.." I groan, pushing her down even harder so her nose touches my stomach.
"Swallow it. All of it." I slowly let go of her, but seeing her cough a little only fuels my desire. She opens her mouth after she swallows and shows me that she swallowed every single drop.
"That's a good girl. Now come on.. let's take a shower." I say grinning at her and helping her back up. "Mattheo I don't know If I can walk so far." she sighs as she stands on her still shaky legs.
I kiss the top of her head, something I never do but just feels right with her. " You don't have to. I have my own shower." I pick her up bridal style and carry her towards my bathroom."
Y/n's POV:
As he picks me up to carry me, I feel a few butterfly's in my stomach but I try to suppress them.
He let's me down when we stand under his shower. His clothes hit the floor. "Hot or cold?" he ask, putting his hand on the tap. "Hot." I say and watch his back. Last time I didn't noticed but he has big scars all over his back, some even on his chest. He must see my face cause he asks me "What's wrong?" I shake my head and try to smile.
"Nothing." I see it in his eyes that he doesn't buy my lie but doesn't push me either. As the warm water hits my skin, I sigh in relief. I let my hair get wet and wash off the makeup I had on. While I did so, Mattheo stands right behind me, his hands on my hips, scanning my face.
I open my eyes and see him looking. " What?" I ask grinning. " You're beautiful." I roll my eyes and look away again, trying to hide my blush. "You don't have to try to get into my pants. You already are." He turns me around and holds my face. " Hey.. I really mean it. And not just your body. Your face is prettier than the ones of angels." My eyes widen at his words, not expecting that kind of words from him.
He clears his throat and looks away for a moment himself. That's when I grab his face in both my hands and crash my lips into his. The kiss is hungry, more passionate and different than the last times. More tender.
One of his hands slide up and down my back, while the other lays on my hip. "You make me crazy, princess." he admits, mumbling against my lips. I smile into the kiss. "Don't go soft Mattheo." I say, teasing him.
He starts kissing my neck, but less soft and more aggressively now. "Remember who's in charge here baby. I would choose your words wisely." He lifts me up so I wrap my legs around his waist. "This time I wanna see your face when I fuck you."
He takes his cock into his hand and positions it at my entrance, teasing me with it. „Mattheo come on, fuck me.." i huff out frustrated. "Beg for it, wanna hear you beg again like the last time I fucked you." I roll my eyes at his ego, but still do as he tells me to. "Please, I'm already begging you to fuck me."
Ge grins down at me and slowly pushes inside me, holding eye contact the whole time. His lips part and his eyes get lazy. "Fuck, you feel just as good as the first time I fucked you stupid."
I want to bite back but only bite my lip as he starts thrusting in a fast and hard pace. "What was that? I'm going soft princess?" His grip on my hips gets tighter and he starts kissing my neck up and down. " N-no you're not.." I whimper, closing my eyes and letting my head fall back against the wall.
What was is that he had me under his control so much? Not even a single brain cell told me to not do as he says. I can't with this boy..
His lips work their way up to my ear and he whispers "I'm a man baby, a boy wouldn't fuck you like I do. " Goosebumps erupt over my body and again he's right. " Stop messing around in my head." I growl lightly, supressing a moan in my throat. "You're all mine. I don't give a shit about how you see that, cause I know your body screams for mine every night. And it will never get someone else's. Do you understand?"
He stops kissing my neck and looks at me while thrusting his hips against mine. A shiver run down my spine as I looked into his eyes, but this time not a good one. It was ice cold. I never saw him looking tat serious and cold. Possesive. "Do. You. Under. Stand." he asks me again, deep and hard thrust for every word.
"God yes, Mattheo. I understand!" I cry out as his fingers find their way towards my clit, rubbing it in circles. My nails leave marks all over his back, drawing a little blood.
He starts hissing but laughing at the same time at the pain. He's gonna be the death of me. "No, you're gonna be mine, princess. Do that again with your nails, turns me on." As I don't, he mumbles a quite "okay" and presses me harder against the shower wall, fucking me even deeper and more brutal. My nails find their way back inside his skin and I'm sure If we had been o the bed It would be broken by now.
"When are you gonna learn to not be a little brat, huh?" he asks, a smirk on his face. "I own you now, baby." I let out half a snort half a chuckle. " Do I own you then too?" I ask sarcastically. " You own every inch of me."
My face falls a little at his answer, not expecting it. Did he mean that?But as soon as my thoughts started, I forgot them as he starts to rub my clit even harder, but in a steady rhythm.
"Oh yeah look at that in pleasure twisting face, that's fucking it." he groans, his thrust becoming more erratic. One hand leaves my hip and wraps itself around my throat, squeezing it with the perfect amount of pressure. A broken scream leaves my lips with my eyes rolling back.
"Yeah scream so loud Cormac hears who‘s name you‘re moaning tonight." I press my lips together but he squeezes my throat tighter. My walls clench around him, making him lose his control, eyes rolling back a bit with a smile to it. "I love that pussy so much fuck.I bet he can't fuck you like I can, huh?"
This time my answer comes in a instant. " No- no he can't. I'm so close Mattheo, please." I moan as I feel this deep twisting feeling in my stomach. His lips meet mine, to my surprise. Unlike how he fucks, he kisses me soft and passionate. "Come around me baby.Please fucking come around me." he groans almost desperate.
And just like that I let go and let the feeling of my orgasm overflow me. "Hm shit.. can I come inside you baby?" Mattheo pants against my lips while he looks down between us. I just nod quickly, feeling him coming inside me a few seconds later. "Shit.." a whimper leaves his lips as he fills me up.
My stomach twists again at the sound so I look at him and scan his face for a moment. I think that's the hottest sound my ears ever came across. He looks fucked out too, his eyes heavy.
He slowly pulls out but still holds me. "You make me so addicted." he confesses to me, looking between my eyes and lips. I had to. " So you're going soft now again?" I tease him, out of breath.
He chuckles lowly which ends with me bent over every single surface in his room.
I don't know how long I can survive in that.
I just know ya‘ll hate and love me for posting this.. after weeks :) <3
There‘s gonna be a part 3, the final then. Hehe.
Taglist: @idk-simra @kindnessspreads @purplegardenwhispers @glittervame @oxi8 @lovelyygirl8 @yakosobaboba | thank you for supporting guys 🫶🏻
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xoxo sarah <3
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redeyerhaenyra · 30 days
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Divine Hammer
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Summary: You bring up something new to Simon. He's more enthusiastic than you expected.
Warnings: What else but smut, HEAVY UK slang usage (me and si come from the same area of England our slang is v similar) Simon slaps reader once, fem reader, oral(f), fingering in BOTH holes, pussy juice as lube, anal duh, simons fat cock, sprinkling of a size kink, mean Simon, kitchen sex mmm, no beta we die like soap (sorry), lmk if I missed anything!
Notes: Listen the taboo of anal just gets me going alright , also this has been in my drafts since JAN 9TH help
Wc: 2.5k
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Simon's stare was unnerving. Well, it was always unnerving, to a degree. But he found ways to utilise it. Deadpan humour, emphasising points of conversation, scaring away would-be hookups from you in the pub. But here, it was unnerving in a whole other way.
It felt… intrusive.
Simon stared at you like he could see through your clothes, your body, into your mind to expose your deepest darkest fantasies. You squirmed under his penetrating gaze, tugging at the hem of your jumper.
After a little while of silence, you shook your head, scoffing at yourself;
“-No, nevermind um.. I'm.. s-sorry that was weird-” “Didn’ say tha’ ”
You gulped, gaze nervously fixed to the floor. Simon was still. Staring. At you. Never before had you felt so exposed, too embarrassed and, if you were honest, a little scared to look at your boyfriend face-on.
“Was just wonderin’ since when my bird was such a slag.”
His baritone words rolled down your spine, sending sparks of a deep, taboo satisfaction through you. You whimpered, and hid your face in your hands.
“Don’ act like a prude love, we both heard what you wanted just now.” “I shouldn't have said anythinnnggg-”
Conceptually, anal had… a certain taboo charm to it. From your perspective at least. Sure, it wasn't technically the “right” hole… it wouldn't feel the same, but the idea had always fascinated you.. intruded your shadowed thoughts at night with your fingers rubbing your clit and edging nervously to an opening further on than your cunt.
So, gently, you'd broached the topic one time you were both in the kitchen together- thinking, in hindsight foolishly, that it'd be something he'd instantly dismiss, or at least… talk about later. In the bedroom. Not in the middle of the kitchen… but now here you stood, in the hole you'd dug for yourself;
“On the contrary, I'm relieved you've finally admitted it to yourself.” His footsteps were heavy against the floorboards as he approached you. Confused, you peeked out of the gaps between your fingers to look at him;
“W-what?” “Don't be fuckin’ coy w'me love.” Simon towered over you, cadging you next to the kitchen side.
“Always suspected there was some depraved shit up here, yeah?” He poked your temple with his index finger, “Turns out my intuitions were correct then?”
“T-thats not-” “Oh yes it is sweet’art.” Simon's eyes grew more intense by the second, even more than before- you struggled to even picture them in your mind for fear of his retribution.
“Ay- fuckin’ look at me when I'm talking to ya.”
He could have been a lot harsher with the small smack he delivered to your cheek, but that knowledge did nothing to dull the pain, and your eyes watered a little at the sensation. He grabbed your cheeks between his fingers, squishing them till you pouted and shaking your head lightly, as if to keep hold of your attention.
As if you could look anywhere else…
Forced to return his ferocious gaze, you crumbled, knees bucking like a fawn under you- Simon grabbed you and roughly hauled you back up, manhandling you to bend over the kitchen counter. You allowed him to, biting your lip in an attempt to muffle your unintentional sounds of appreciation.
It earned you a harsh smack to your rear, and Simon's big paw of a hand tugging your hair. He leaned over you, “ ‘M not ‘avin any of tha’ yeah? You're not gonna be hidin’ how much of a slut you are from me anymore sweet'art.”
The juxtaposition of his words and the way he sweetly kissed your temple after he said them was almost comical. The grip on your hair disappeared, replaced with firm and consistent pulling at your clothes until you shuffled out of them- Simon wasted no time running his warm hands up and down your body, rumbling out various admirations of your physical form.
He slunk down your body, nipping and pressing hot, open mouthed kisses down your back, and then to each of your cheeks, all the way down to your pussy. Earlier on, when you'd ridden yourself of your panties, Simon had laughed at how wet they were. “Already?” He'd asked, “Y'that turned on already? Whore. Like a bitch in heat f'me, ey?”
He had no further comments to mock you with, not now at least. He was busy approving of the view of your wet cunt in front of him- out of the corner of your eye you spied him nodding to himself as if he were appraising fine art.
You huffed, a little impatient, petulant you wiggled your bum at him- only all you got from him was another spank.
“Be patient.” He said curtly.
You whined, but otherwise did as you were told, meekly resigned to your fate as Simon's personal eye candy.
“Why ya’ into it then?” You made a noise of confusion, Simon huffed.
“This.”
One of hands had moved to idly grope and squish your bottom while he'd been down there, and now his thumb creeped ever so slowly over to press on your rim. You keened- suddenly understanding what he meant.
“Well?” His thumb pressed in deeper, you gasped- “I-i don't know!” “Hmmm…”
You could tell from his tone he didn't quite believe you. He kissed your cheek again.
“I'm sure I'll find out.”
With that said, his thumb remained almost gently rubbing at your hole, his free hand moving to pull his balaclava up over his nose- wasting no time in burying himself in your cunt. He sighed contentedly at the taste, smell, feel of you, lazily lapping at your cunny with his broad tongue. His thumb still rubbing you in slow circles, almost.. in a comforting manner.
There was no one more intimidating than Simon- at least out of all the people you've ever met, and yet here he was, eating your pussy like it was a home cooked, three-course meal. You looked over your shoulder, and bit your lip; The visual of big bad Simon Riley on his knees for you, make you shiver and clench.
Simon seemed to be secretly a telepath however, as the way he suddenly roughly pinched your clit between his index finger and thumb- tugging on it cruelly, came off as a punishment. You whined loudly, panting into the counter, drooling a little. Vaguely, you could hear Simon humming thoughtfully to himself. He released his hold on your poor clit, though quickly replaced it by rubbing small, soothing circles on it instead.
It quite quickly becomes a lot more intense, Simon grunting in approval as he plunges his thick tongue into your cunt. Your breathing is staggered, coming out in short, little huffs- you reach behind you to tug at Simon's head, shoving him closer. Again, he groans in appreciation, eagerly nuzzling between your thighs closer, the rhythm of his tongue and fingers rubbing at your clit increased a hundredfold;
Like lighting, your orgasm crashed through you, the noises that left your pussy- wet, squelching, the drip of your juices against the floor, should surely have had you feeling at least some shame, but no. You were too twitchy, too fucked stupid on Simon's tongue to care.
With much reluctantance, Simon hauled himself off of your puffy pussy. He'd gladly stay nestled between your kegs for the rest of him life, at least from further away, he could admire his work.
At this point, you thought perhaps he'd finally get to the meat of what you'd suggested.. Simon wasn't finished yet though- two of his deliciously thick fingers were swiftly shoved into your sopping pussy.
You cried out at the sudden penetration, shivering and trembling.
“What? ..silly cow.” Simon told you gruffly, somewhat annoyed that you'd dare disturb his probing at your cunt with your exclamation of surprise. You whined at his degradation, but were still coherent enough to recognise the underlying affection in his tone. Huffing, you leaned forward to lay your torso fully on the cold, sideboard. The cool temperature of the marble was sharp and sudden, but soon soft and gentle to your hot body, palliative to your hard, puffed up nipples.
He lazily pumped his fingers inside you for a few moments, before curling his fingers forward, dragging against that spongey spot deep within you, and eased his fingers out of you.
You were left huffing and panting like an animal into the counter- Simon had cupped his two fingers- the ones that was just inside of you- just under your clit.. then abruptly he slid them upwards, slowly, pressing down hard.
You squeaked, struggling not to quiver too hard. Simon's fingers kept creeping up and up and up, gliding firmly over your cunny, finally halting at your rim. The hot, wet sensation of Simon rubbing your own slick into your hole as lube had you trembling.
“How's tha?” You heard Simon mumble from behind you, his accent had gotten a little thicker. It always got thicker when he was “in the zone”.
“Oh.. uh..” Seemingly irked by your lack of response, your boyfriend slapped your clit harshly with the back of his hand.
“G-good!! It's good! Good!!” You choked, and whined again when you heard Simon chuckle lowly at you. He tapped his fingers twice on your hole- you nodded shyly at him;
Simon hummed, cautiously easing one of his broad fingers covered in your slick into your ass. The noise of utter debauched pleasure you let escape your throat was nothing compared to Simon's groan-
“Oh fuck that's tight..”
God it was, you felt how hard your greedy hole swallowed up his thick finger. You huffed and puffed- vainly attempting to breath consitently, but your body was too sensitive, muscles pulled too rigid inside you to keep your thoughts on one thing alone.
Simon was your rock, somewhere in the thousands of feelings inside you, was a certainty that he was holding back. Taking it slow, just for you.
You felt the hazey cloud of sex overwhelm you, rendering you more or less unable to speak, only babble incoherently into the counter, your pretty eyes filled with tears as Simon took his sweet, sweet time opening you up.
By comparison to how rough the pads of his digits were, they were remarkably soft with you, even as Simon squeezed one more of his fingers in you. You coughed and hiccups at the fullness of it.
“Tha's it.. good girl.. cmon.. open up luv.. there we go..”
You head him whisper, and you moaned impatiently. You wanted to politely express your readiness for his dick, but all the you were able to whine out was “C-cock-!”
Simon laughed, which was always a nice, comforting rumble. “I know sweet'art, gotta get you a little looser f'me first yeah?”
Even as you keened and begged, Simon would not budge. Occasionally, if he was feeling particularly mean in that moment, he'd flick your poor clit harshly, you'd squeal and twitch. This continued for a while, and by the time he deemed you “ready” you might have passed out, the electric fizzles of pleasure that sizzled between your legs kept you awake.
Simon could tell you were tired, he was gentle with the way he slipped his hand under you tummy to push your bum in the air, and tender with how he cradled your hip. Your clit was kindly soothed with slow, small circles rubbed in by his middle finger.
You sobbed into the side- “cock…” you babbled, sniffing and feeling sorry for yourself. You felt a kiss to the base of your neck;
“Mmmm.. I know baby, I know, m' so mean aren't I?”
Vaguely, you heard yourself murmuring in agreement. The metallic sound of Simon's belt loosening and then his zipper coming down had warm excitement flutter over your body.
You felt the heat of his dick before it even touched you, whimpering when it finally did. Simon rubbed his thick cock up and down the apex of your thighs, right up to hole and then back down to your clit. When you would whine at him, he'd hum right back.
God, he was so much bigger than you. He leant over you and covered your entire body with his bulk. You felt him throb at your rim. A kiss was levied at your neck- “Y’ready?” He asked, voice low, and you babbled back something that sounded like impatience. Simon chuckled and kissed your neck again, bracing one strong arm against the counter next to you.
All of a sudden he was inside you, not all the way but he was inside you and that's all you could think about. You gasped, inadvertently holding your breath and then once more remembering to breathe. Simon had stayed silent throughout this.. you reached backwards for him with one hand;
“Si?” “Y-yeah, yeah m’here, g’ve us a minute love-”
His voice came out ragged and shaky, and from the sounds of it he was doing the same forgetting-to-breath thing you were.
You both needed occasionally little breaks from him sliding his cock inside you this time, either of you would cum too quickly. But soon, all of him was pressed snugly inside you. You drooled on the counter and Simon's head had dropped to rest on your back, taking slow, steady breaths, grounding himself.
The both of you stayed like this for a while. It was almost peaceful. Soft. Till Simon decided he was fine to move and dragged his dick alllllllll the way back out and then in again in one thrust. It left you choked for breath, Simon too, he was more vocal this time than any other time you'd fucked.
Neither of you lasted long, specially not after your boyfriend had clasped his big paw of a hand under your leg, and lifted it up onto the counter next to you, an entirely new and more intimate angle. You were cumming before you even realised Simon had crept his hand down to pinch your clit. He was so mean about it too- that same hand then came up to shove to of his fingers into your mouth, creating a spit-slicked mess. And when he came it was an event:
He threw his head back and moaned more desperately than you'd ever heard from him before. The rhythmic squelch that narrated your encounter kept going even after he'd cum, if anything it was louder now. His and your cum dripping down out of you and puddling on the floor beneath you. Still, meekly, Simon kept thrusting into you, as if the orgasm was too good to end. Though finally it did, Simon's weight all but collapsing ontop of you.
You stayed like that for a while, still connected. Basking in your respective afterglows. Simon kissed your neck again and you croaked out a satisfied noise;
“Fun..” The man behind you laughed, “Yeah fun was it? Just fun eh? Just fun~?” Cruelly he reached under you to tickle your sides- you squealed; “More than f-fun!!” and that seemed to sate him, releasing you.
“Yeah, s’what I thought…..” He drummed his fingers on the counter..
“Bath?” “bath….”
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seonghwaddict · 5 months
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blue bird — choi san, jung wooyoung
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in which one of the most dangerous men in the city approaches you with an offer, but how would you have known it would turn into something more?
mafia boss!choi san x fem!reader x mafia boss!jung wooyoung. genre. fluff, smut, mafia au. warnings. explicit sexual content minors dni, unprotected sex, dom!san, dom!wooyoung, sub!reader, slight corruption, p in v, oral (f and m receiving), multiple orgasms, threesome, fingering, reverse cowgirl position, pussy drunk wooyoung??, subspace??, cum swallowing, san is a little mean, wooyoung likes to tease, lots of teasing, hair pulling, slight degradation, dirty talk like a lot of it, brief begging, praise, overuse of the word pretty, pet names (doll, princess, baby, pretty girl, good girl, baby doll, pretty little slut). i think that’s it but if i missed anything please let me know. wc. 6.9k.
lilo’s notes. hiii happy new year everyone!! this is dedicated to @garlichoisan, surprise! i was your secret santa :3 i’m sorry but i completely forgot to write angst and couldn’t find a way to squeeze it in, please forgive me 😭😭 i think i got a little carried away with the smut, it’s probably not my best since i’m not very experienced in writing it but i hope you like it and this as a whole!!
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choi san wanted you in a rather unexpected way.
not in a friendly way or a sexual way, but actually in a professional way. ever since he’d heard of what you, the so called “blue bird,” were up to, he knew you’d be a valuable asset. shortly after he heard about you, he was quick to tell wooyoung about what he had learned from idling in a bar he’d never been to.
it was an early morning. so early that the sun hadn’t risen yet, but that didn’t bother san. he preferred quieter, intimate spaces rather than the bustling clubs of grey city. as he sipped on his whiskey, the two men beside him got to talking. neither of them were very memorable, if anything they looked too similar; not intimidating in any way. still, he made a mental note of the guns attached to their hips. it was nothing very interesting, small talk from what he could tell. well, at least until they mentioned an odd name.
“did you hear what she did?”
“who?” one of them, the one with comically thick glasses, said as he blew out some cigarette smoke.
“well… ya know…” his voice lowered to a whisper, though in his drunken state it was less of a discreet whisper and more of a loud hiss, “the blue bird.”
he gave a sound of recognition. “wonderful heist, wasn’t it?”
“indeed,” he laughed, a deep chortle, “she was here tellin’ ricky all about it yesterday. flawless, flew in and out like a ghost.” he sighed blissfully, as if he had been there to watch you work.
now this. this is what caught infamous mafia boss choi san’s attention.
“more like a bird!” the bespectacled man nudge his friend with his elbow, a high pitched giggle leaving him. “get it? because she’s called bl-”
the friend held his hand up with a deadpan expression. “yes, i get it.”
the two men talked about you some more (“pretty thing she is, isn’t she?” “mhm, heard she’s actually quite sweet too. odd thing to hear about an outlaw.”), but san tuned them out again. with an important upcoming mission, he needed someone capable of doing exactly what these two men had described. he needed someone like you. preferably, you.
going off of what he had heard, he frequented that bar, hoping you’d happen to be there at the same time. he sat at the same seat at the same counter every night and always ordered the same thing. he noticed that after the first two nights he was there, no one really sat next to him. presumably because they recognised him and opted to avoid him instead of doing anything.
not that he cared, this part of town was known to be filled with people of the rebellious type; people like him who despised the government and would stop at nothing to take it down. if anything, they most likely respected him and his business. but alas, that doesn’t matter much in this particular story, does it?
wooyoung even offered to take turns visiting the bar, curious to see this mysterious person as well. but two weeks passed and no sign of you. most of the people there were the same every time he went, he was sure he would’ve noticed a new face at some point.
fortunately, his efforts became successful.
as usual, no one sat directly beside him, leaving one or two barstools between him and whatever other patron sat at the counter. or so he thought. the usual bartender passed him and came to a stop. confused and thinking the bartender stopped for him despite already sipping on his drink, san tilted his head. but it soon became evident that he wasn’t there for him, but rather for the pretty woman he didn’t notice sitting beside him.
“the usual?” the bartender asked, a crooked smile spreading on his face as he looked at you, his hands busy drying a glass.
san heard a brief chuckle beside him, prompting him to take a proper look at you. the first thing he noticed were your lips. plump and red, smooth lipstick. then the slope of your neck and shoulders, exposed by the thin straps of your silky black dress, jacket hanging by your elbows. the soft yellow-tinted lighting bounced off your rich skin and perfect hair in an almost hypnotising way. there was something enchanting about your aura, your posture, you.
he forced himself to look away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.
“yes, thank you.” you replied, nodding at the bartender as he turned to prepare your drink.
“one hot chocolate for our blue bird coming right up!”
blue bird.
this time san couldn’t stop himself from looking. so it was you.
the men from the other day weren’t lying when they called you a pretty little thing. you wore a silky black dress and a black fur jacket to protect you from the cold wind of the night. as his eyes roamed over you they got caught on your plump thighs. briefly, he wondered if they felt as soft as they looked but soon enough something else caught his attention. as you shifted in your seat, he caught a glimpse of the inside of your jacket, a quick glint reflecting from inside told him you were indeed carrying a weapon. he made sure to keep that in the back of his mind.
a man such as himself, wide shouldered and intimidating, was hard to ignore. if you didn’t notice him staring from the corner of your eyes, you were sure the heat of his stare would’ve burned a hole through your skin. needless to say, he had caught your attention as well, except you seemed to be better at hiding it.
once the momentary shock subsided, he smiled. the fact that such a dangerous person would regularly order hot chocolates from a bar was amusing to him.
noticing the change in expression, you glance at him. what the hell? seeing a man grinning at you was unsettling. a man with such broad shoulders who could probably easily overpower you. his face looked familiar, you realised, but couldn’t quite attach a name to it quite yet.
unsure of what to do and what this man may want from you, you turned away and engaged in a conversation with the bartender as he prepared your drink, all the while ignoring the man at your side. as soon as you finished your drink, you placed some cash on the counter and got up, swiftly walking out of the bar.
while your goal was to get away, you didn’t take the fact that he might follow you into account.
“don’t go yet, little outlaw, i’d like to talk to you about something.”
his voice was rather calm and even, but still left minimal room for discussion. you rolled your eyes before turning around with a completely different expression—eyes wide and innocent, lashes fluttering, eyebrows raised.
“you must be mistaken, sir, i have no idea what you’re talking about.”
he chuckled and took some steps forward and that’s when you recognised him. shit. he slowly walked over to you, speaking to you in that same calm voice with a sprinkle of cockiness somewhere in it. “playing dumb? really? for someone as smart as yourself i’d expect you to know that the 1 billion won bounty on your head doesn’t hide you.”
you sighed at his words, taking steps back to maintain the distance. there was no use continuing the innocent act, snapping at him, “what do you want?”
“do you know who i am?”
“of course i do, the whole city does. do you think i live under a rock?” you scoffed a laugh.
he dismissed your sarcasm, being used to having to deal with such cheeky mouths. “i have an offer.” when you didn’t reply, he continued. “help me and my… business partner with a heist.”
that was not what you expected.
“hmm… no, thanks.” you smiled up at him but nearly faltered as your back hit the wall of an alley you had unknowingly backed yourself into. you cursed yourself silently as he stood right in front of you, so close you had to look up to maintain eye contact.
“i wasn’t asking, darling.” he looked down at you, expression nearly sneering as he held an air of superiority about him. “you either agree or you’ll wake up behind bars tomorrow morning.”
“you can’t arrest me or turn me in, they’ll forget all about me since you’re the more wanted one out of the two of us.” you spoke matter-of-factly, a cocky tilt to the corner of your lips.
“i never said i would be the one to turn you in, little outlaw.”
“you know,” you hummed and moved your arms. his first assumption was that you were reaching for the dagger he glimpsed inside your jacket earlier, instinctively catching your wrists in his grasp as your words died in your throat and your breath hitched. he shifted his grip to place both of your wrists in one hand, holding them up above your head as his free hand nudged your jacket open, revealing the dagger.
he clicked his tongue patronisingly and fished it out delicately. his eyes shifted to yours, eyebrows raising in a silent question as he tossed the weapon over his shoulder. the metal blade clinked and echoed in the barren alleyway. he kept your wrists in his hold but lowered your arms, holding them at the height of your hips.
he leaned forward, speaking into your ear lowly as you suppressed a shudder. “you may continue.”
you glared at him and had the sudden urge to punch the shit eating grin off his face. “what’s in it for me?”
“um…” his face went blank and he leaned back to look at you, clearly not a single thought processing behind those cat-like eyes. “is there anything you want in particular?”
“protection.” you said simply, tilting your head.
“oh,” he nodded slowly, his brows furrowing in confusion but he kept his eyes on you. “but can’t you find that in any store?”
he felt a hit against his shin as you kicked him lightly. “ew not that. i meant… well, doing what i do, there’s a lot of people after me. you have the means to have some of your guys make sure i don’t run into any trouble.”
san nodded understandingly, loosening his grip on your wrists but not letting go. not that you minded. “that’s perfectly possible, yes.”
you exhaled, relieved. warm air fanning against his neck as you did so. “okay, then, i’m in. so what is it you need me to do?”
this time he released your wrists completely and took a step back, reaching into an inner pocket of his tailored suit and pulled out a little card with one hand as the other brought your hand up.
he brushed his hand over your closed fist, opening your fingers up to reveal your palm, placing the card in your palm before gently nudging your fingers to close over it. in a swift move, he turned your hand around and bowed forward, pressing a slow and soft kiss to your knuckles—eyes locked on yours as you stared back at him in bewilderment.
he lifted his lips, smirking at you as he straightened up, hands moving to the bottom of his blazer and tugging, stretching the wrinkles away. “i expect to see you tomorrow at dusk, little blue bird.”
with a wink, he turned on his heels and walked away. you watched him, listening to the echoing footsteps as he left the alley and disappeared around a corner, leaving you slumped against the cold brick wall with burning cheeks.
you weren’t sure what you expected when you arrived at the address on the card choi san gave you. perhaps an underground bunker that looked nothing like the breathtaking estate you stood in front of.
the building was tucked within a small forest far from the outskirts of night city. the architecture seemed foreign and classical, a building you’d roam through whilst listening to tchaikovsky or chopin—not a building you’d expect to scheme against the government in. though, you supposed in some aspects it fit the aesthetic san had going on. sipping whiskey in a fully tailored suit, the smell of cigarette smoke and mint heavy in the air around him.
you walked up to the grand double doors, taking a moment to admire the intricate carvings before ringing the bell. less than a minute later, the right door swung open to reveal a stranger.
he wore wide dark jeans and a black and white plaid shirt, the top few buttons undone to reveal his chiselled collarbones and practically half of his torso. his black hair was slicked back with a few strands framing his face with the dainty square glasses he wore, some hanging silver earrings on display. he was, completely objectively speaking, handsome.
his eyes roamed over you, taking in your appearance before smiling and crossing his arms, leaning his side against the door as he pushed his glasses up to rest on the top of his head. you noticed a mole on his face—a small dot just under his left eye. “so you’re the little outlaw san told me about, huh?”
“yes, and you are?” you knew who he was, of course, but pleasantries were pleasantries nonetheless.
“jung wooyoung, but you already knew that.”
you chuckled and put your arms up in surrender, “oh no, i’ve been caught.”
his laugh was rather high pitched as he ushered you in. “come in, it gets cold at night.”
he led you through the house, stopping by what he referred to as his office but really looked like a sitting room with soft lighting and a desk to grab some rolled up papers before continuing the walk. the interior was just as beautiful as the exterior; intricate paintings and marble floors. wooyoung smiled as he saw the awe-stricken look on your face.
he led you to another set of double doors, pushing both of them open and stepping through without looking back to make sure you were following. now this was an office.
your jaw nearly dropped as you walked into the room, spinning a full circle to gawk at the various bookshelves that lined the walls and high ceiling that looked like it came straight out of the sistine chapel. a large fireplace cast a warm, yet still dark, glow over the room, making it look that much more impressive. a graceful vintage couch with two matching armchair were placed in front of the fireplace, a glass coffee table nestled between the seats and the source of light and warmth.
the floor creaked with every step you took, being made of dark wooden planks instead of marble.
you flinched as you heard san’s familiar voice snapping you out of your stupor. “pick your jaw up, you might catch flies.”
at the sound of his voice, you whipped around and glared at him after quickly pulling yourself together. he was sat in a leather chair at his impressive desk, wooyoung sat (balanced) on the arm of the chair.
you walked over and stood across from them in front of the desk. “it’s a nice house, are you two the only ones that live here?”
wooyoung took the chance to answer. “sometimes. there’s six others that are part of our… syndicate, but they stay in other places, surrounding grey city.”
“enough of that.” san waved his hand dismissively and leaned forward. as he did so, your eyes were drawn to his chest. he wore a white button up, though it appeared to be a bit tight judging by the way the fabric around the buttons strained every time he moved. your lingering gaze didn’t go unnoticed, but neither of them brought it up. “woo, the plans, please.”
the plan was set to take place the months after you had met with them for the first time. this gave you three to prepare, to memorise the layout and every detail about the building you’ll be infiltrating. for this preparation, you frequented their estate often—nearly every day—and spent hours with them. two weeks in, they offered you one of their guest bedrooms to stay in.
at first wooyoung got on your nerves, but soon enough you grew accustomed to his antics—the clinginess, the teasing. eventually, you even found yourself liking it and seeking it out.
san was slightly more reserved at first, more serious. but soon he, too, let down his guard. encouraging words, affectionate touches.
the more time you spent with them, the more you found yourself relaxing, letting them handle you with care instead of pushing them away like you used to with so many people before them. and eventually you, dare you say, began liking them.
you couldn’t deny the way san’s sharp snd perceptive eyes made you want to squirm under his gaze as he watched you bend over his desk to point something out on the building’s floor plan. you couldn’t deny the way his gentle commands (“do this for me please.” “come here, princess.”) had butterflies roaring in your stomach.
and wooyoung. while san was indeed quite physically affectionate, it was nothing compared to wooyoung. lingering touches and smooth words. sometimes you’d be grabbing something in kitchen and he’d come by, pulling you aside by your hips to grab something. later that day you’d offered to cook something up for dinner, but he only tutted and lifted you by your waist to place you on the marble island counter (“i don’t trust you in my kitchen, baby. just sit there and look pretty for me, yeah?”). jung wooyoung was a flirt and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it.
two days before the heist, you walked into san’s office after waking up and not being able to find woo. in the time you’d spent with them, you had learned that san acquired the bigger and fancier office by winning a game of rock paper scissors.
as you opened the door, the cat-eyed man looked up from whatever he was working on, smiling as he watched you yawn and stretch on your way over to him. he gave you a once over; you wore an oversized shirt, the collar shifted and hanging over one shoulder, the end of the shirt ending halfway down your thighs.
“sleep well?” he asked, putting his pen down as you stopped in front of the desk. he’d woken up not too long before you, still in his sleepwear, hair tussled but somehow still perfect.
you nodded, your voice soft in your sleepy state, “where’s woo?”
“he went out to get stuff for dinner,” he chuckled as he heard the slight concern in your voice. he pushed his chair back slightly and patted his lap. “come sit here while i work, princess.”
you grinned and walked around the desk, claiming his lap as your seat. you leaned back against him, back pressed to his front. he kissed your exposed shoulder chastely and got back to work. you tried to look down at his papers to see what he was doing, but the way his unoccupied arm wrapped around your waist and shifted you slightly (in a way that accidentally made his thigh rub against certain areas) had your mind going blank, unable to focus on anything other than his touch.
though you couldn’t see it, san also had a hard time focusing. every time you moved, your ass brushed over his pelvis. it was clear he didn’t think it through when he told you to sit on him since now he was having a hard time holding himself back, a bulge growing in his sweatpants.
you shifted again, trying to find a position where none of his body parts rubbed against your core, and he sucked a sharp breath in. his hands practically flew to your hips to hold you still.
“princess, i need you to sit still or i might go crazy, okay?” he spoke softly into your ear, hot breaths brushing against your skin and making you shiver, a fact he noticed and made him smirk. maybe he was already going crazy, but just a little more wouldn’t hurt, right?
he kept his lips by your ear for a moment before moving down slightly, placing them just below your earlobe. it was your turn for your breath to hitch, tilting your head to give him more space. he nearly groaned at the subtle act of submission, burying his face into your skin and kissing his way down to the crook of your neck.
time seemed to slow as his hands tightened on your hips, he scraped his teeth along your neck before biting down gently, not enough to hurt but enough to elicit a breathy whine. when the sound left your lips, he froze.
when you noticed he wasn’t doing anything, you whined again and rolled your hips over his pelvis, dropping your head back on his shoulder. the action surprised yourself too. you’d had sex, of course, but it was never a necessity for you. even when the opportunity presented itself, you wouldn’t chase after it. yet here you were, wordlessly begging him to continue. what had these men done to you?
“is this okay?” he whispered.
you nodded immediately, turning your head to look at him. his breath nearly caught in his throat as he saw the look in your eyes, illuminated by the soft glow of the fireplace—a silent plea for him to have his way with you, release the tension that’s built up over the previous three months. without waiting a second longer, he attached his lips to your neck again, a certain roughness to the way he caressed your skin with his lips and his tongue and his teeth.
you melted against him and let your eyes fall shut when you felt his hands slip shirt off, tossing it on his desk, and then rest against your bare waist, fingertips brushing over the skin making a shiver run down your spine. a voice that wasn’t his had your eyes flying open, your body freezing for a moment before you realised who it was.
“you two just couldn’t wait for me?” wooyoung pouted, leaning against the desk in front of the chair you and san occupied. san chuckled against your neck while you stared at wooyoung, dumbfounded, unexpected excitement stirring in your abdomen.
he looked from your face, to san’s smirk, and then down at the way your hips tried finding the right angle to grind on san’s lap. a dark chuckle left wooyoung’ slips and he leaned forward, hands coming to rest on your knees.
“need help with that, doll?” he tilted his head, a mocking pout gracing his lips as he cooed at you, one hand coming up to caress your cheek for a moment as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.
your eyes practically twinkled as you looked up at him, pupils dilated as you nod helplessly. wooyoung smiled and patted your cheek affectionately, pecking your forehead again before sinking to his knees in between yours and san’s legs, kissing his way down your body. your eyes tracked him and his slow descent, breath held in anticipation.
“cute,” he giggled as he eyed your pink panties, slipping them off your legs and tossing them aside. he hooked your legs on either side of san’s, spreading them apart, looking up at you. “just relax, be a good girl and keep your legs like that for me, yeah?”
when you nodded, he kissed your inner thigh followed by a quiet groan as he noticed the arousal dripping from your cunt. “oh, doll, you’re so wet.”
“hm, is she?” san chimed in, one of of his hands leaving your waist to dip down and casually slide a finger through your folds; from bottom to top, applying more pressure the further he slid. you prepared yourself for his finger to get to your clit but, much to your dismay, he removed his hand just before he got there. you suppressed the urge to glare at him over your shoulder. simultaneously, wooyoung began leaving pecks all over your inner thighs.
san hummed and pressed another kiss just below your ear, whispering, his voice thick with lust, “all that and we barely even started. what a pathetic, needy mess, huh?”
the way he said it made it clear he expected an answer from you, but with how wooyoung ran a single finger through your folds, you couldn’t do much but shudder and nod. san clicked his tongue and snaked his hands further up from your waist just under your breasts, fingers brushing circles over your nipples. he waited patiently to give you more time to answer.
wooyoung’s tongue slipped out to lick a stripe from your hole to your clit and both your brain practically short-circuited. the combination of the feeling of his tongue and his wide, glossy eyes peering up at you from between your legs sending your mind reeling. he groaned as he tasted you, swearing in his head that he’d probably finish in his pants within five minutes. a sudden pinch of your nipples had you snapping out of your trance.
“say it, princess.”
“ah- i’m a mess.”
“and why are you a mess?”
you opened your mouth to answer but your own moan cut you off as wooyoung began circling your clit with his tongue. san’s lips backed away from your ear and he looked down at wooyoung, signalling for him to stop by holding up his flat palm. your chest heaved with heavy breaths as wooyoung reluctantly removed his tongue and leaned back just an inch, giving you a moment to recover.
“he won’t continue until you tell me why you’re a mess, baby.”
“because of you,” you whined, trying to press your hips closer to wooyoung’s face but to no avail as san moved his hands back down to hold you firmly by those hips he loved so much.
“good girl, that’s right,” he cooed into your ear, giving you a tender kiss. “you’re our pathetic needy mess, aren’t you?”
“your mess. i’m your mess.”
at the confirmation, san looked down at wooyoung and nodded. not even a second later wooyoung’s mouth was back on you. one of san’s hands stayed to control your hips and the other went back to massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples.
wooyoung’s pace was relentless. he ate you out like a man starved, licking up all the juices that seeped from you while he made sure to nudge his nose against your clit repeatedly. when his mouth wasn’t at your entrance, he had his lips wrapped around your clit, alternating between rhythmic sucks and prods of his tongue, one of his fingers teasingly circling your hole.
he swore he could’ve gotten drunk off your taste, finding the way you writhed in san’s lap so cute. wooyoung momentarily removed his mouth from you once again, watching your face as he tentatively pushed his finger past your entrance. he spoke, voice somewhere between a hoarse groan and a sigh.
“fuck…”
you threw your head back on san’s shoulder, suddenly aware of the hard erection pressed against your ass. you tried to rock your hips just a bit, wanting to help him, but his fingers tightened on your hips.
“keep being such a good girl and i’ll fuck you so good you won’t remember your name, but i need you to be patient. okay, princess?”
your breath hitches and you nodded at his promise, your attention being drawn back to the man between your legs as he added another finger. your breathing grew erratic.
“mmm, so tight.” he groaned, eyes fixated on the way his fingers disappeared into your before slipping out again, more and more of your slick seeping out with each thrust of his digits. wet sounds reverberated through the room as you let out a silent curse.
you thought your noises were kept to a minimum, too embarrassed to really let loose, but as soon as he curled his fingers in you—easily finding that spongey sweet spot—a proper moan ripped itself out of you. and then his tongue was back on your clit, not as firmly as you would’ve liked but enough to draw out more moans and whimpers.
at first, he took his time, fingers thrusting in and out of you at a frustrating pace, tongue only lightly brushing over your swollen pearl. but soon enough, he sped up gradually until he reached a speed that had you crying out and arching your back with every inch that he moved. all the while san muttered encouragement into your ear.
“mhm, you’re taking his fingers so well, princess.”
“can’t wait to have my cock in your tight little pussy. don’t worry, we’ll make it fit.”
“look at you, being fucked dumb just from his fingers. you can barely even keep your eyes open, huh?”
you thought you were controlling yourself well but the moment wooyoung added a third finger, the stretch burning just slightly though your wetness kept things moving smoothly, the moment san spoke all those filthy words in your ear, you felt yourself crashing over the edge. it all felt so good you didn’t even realise you were climaxing until you felt yourself shaking and stars swarming your vision.
a high pitched cry ripped through your lips, moaning wooyoung’s name as he takes his fingers out so he can slurp up your release, groaning against you. you tasted so good and if he could, he would have bottled up all the sounds you made to listen to them before bed every night. san planted tender kisses to your jaw and shoulder as wooyoung eventually removed himself.
he looked almost as fucked out as you, drunk of the juices of your pussy as he slowly got up. he took your face in his clean hand and eagerly pressed his lips against yours, making you moan as you tasted yourself on his tongue. the two of you made out slowly, sloppily, and he slowly trailed his hands down. tracing the curve of your waist before settling his hands on your hips, guiding them to grind over san’s length.
you followed his lead, arching your back to position your pussy right over his erection. that seemed to have made san lose all his composure, rasping out harshly, “woo, please lift her up for a moment.”
moments later, you were back in his lap, this time his long cock buried deep in your cunt. his hands guided your movements, his thrusts matching the pace of the roll of your hips. though he wasn’t able to see your face, fucking you in a reverse cowgirl position, he could image how fucked out you looked. cheeks painted red, glazed over eyes, swollen lips, messed up hair.
wooyoung separated his lips from you, chuckling against your mouth. you struggled to kiss him, san feeling so good in you that you had a hard time thinking straight. “does he feel good, babydoll?”
you nodded and leaned forward just slightly to attach you lips to his pretty neck, mindlessly kissing and licking your way down to his collarbones. wooyoung tilted his head back, another dark chuckle. he thought you were so cute—making sure to give him attention even though you were bouncing in another man’s dick. said man groaned and slumped back in the seat at the change of angle as you leaned forward, not pausing his movements once. ever since he first bottomed out in you he had trouble putting together sentences.
your fingers fiddled with the buttons of his shirt. most of them were undone anyway, he liked it like that when he wore button-ups, but you wanted it completely off. he noticed your trembling hands struggling and took over for you, ignoring the buttons and just pulling off the shirt. your eyes roamed over him, jaw slack.
“you’re so pretty, woo.” you whispered after burying your face in his neck again, any filter you had on your words completely gone.
“i think you’re pretty too, doll,” he chuckled into your ear. “so pretty getting off on me and sannie at once.”
you leaned back and looked him over, darting between his eyes and the erection straining against the trousers with pleading, half closed eyes. it didn’t take a genius to figure out what you wanted, making him coo as he understood you.
“oh, you want my cock? you wanna suck it? just one shoved inside you doesn’t satisfy you enough, huh, you pretty little slut?”
your head empty, unable to focus on anything other than the two men you were trapped between, you nodded. san groaned as he felt your walls clench around him.
“fuck- she likes that.”
“is that so?” wooyoung straightened up and grinned down at you, holding your jaw in his hand. “well, then, go ahead, doll, do as you please.”
at he sound of his permission, your hands found their way to his trousers, undoing the fly and letting them fall to the ground. you could already see the shape of it through his boxers, but didn’t pause to inspect it, hooking your fingers on his waistband and pulling it down to release him.
while his length was impressive, it didn’t look quite as long as san’s but rather thicker. compared to every dick you’ve seen, you decided jung wooyoung had a pretty one. the blushing tip leaked precum that you smeared around to stroke him slowly.
you looked up at him every time you tried something new with your hands, looking for his reaction—running your thumb over his tip, squeezing lightly as your hand moved down. no mater what you did, it elicited a deep moan from him. you looked entranced as you watched the way his eyelids fluttered in pleasure. you leaned forward (both you and san moaning and shuddering at the change in angle), pressing a kiss to his tip.
this new angle had san pounding against your sweet spot repeatedly without fail, making you suddenly feel like jello. still, you tried your best to focus on the task literally at hand.
wooyoung noticed your lack of concentration, threading his fingers in your hair and gently pulling to make you look up. he pouted at you mockingly. “can’t think straight enough with sannie’s cock stuffed in you? it’s ok, doll, you look so pretty and fucked out i could cum just from looking at you.”
you shook your head and pushed forward, wrapping your lips around his tip and sinking your mouth down on his length to the best of your abilities.
wooyoung groaned, “that’s it, doll, there you go. you can take just a little more, can’t you, pretty girl?”
eager to please him, you took as much of him in your mouth as you could. you felt him hit the back of your throat and pulled back, coughing around his length. he slipped his hand out of your hair and stroke your cheek, prompting you to glance up at him.
“you’re doing well, doll, just remember to breathe through your nose. i know you can take me just a bit deeper.”
you nodded at his words, swallowing a little more, and wrapped a hand around the rest that you couldn’t fit, stroking him slowly as you led your mouth get used to the feeling. truth be told, you hadn’t given anyone head before, completely relying on your intuition now.
“yeah, there you go, my pretty little doll. i knew you could do it.”
as you mouth worked on wooyoung, you felt that familiar knot tightening in your abdomen. san must’ve been close too, letting out a hearty groan as he gripped your hips tighter and thrusted up into you faster. every time he pulled you down and snapped his hip up to meet you, the lewd sound of his skin slapping against your and his balls hitting your clit had you whining against wooyoung’s cock.
he sucked in a sharp breath, shuddering before cooing down at you. “what was that, doll? i couldn’t quite hear you.”
you continued with the sucking and stroking until you thought it was impossible, repeatedly shaking too much to keep a steady pace. but you could tell wooyoung was close judging by his sounds and pulsating, and still wanting to please him, you kept your lips around his head as you hand stroked him as fast as you could.
moments later, his body tensed and he came into your mouth. the thick, slightly salty substance ran down your throat as you swallowed it all down. when you were sure he was done, you pulled yourself off him. wooyoung looked ready to pass out, leaning against the desk and staring up at the ceiling as he panted, catching his breath. silent curses left his lips as he squeezed his eyes shut.
now with wooyoung taken care of, you leaned back against san, revelling in the feeling of him pounding into you as you felt yourself coming closer and closer to the edge. you heard him gasp by your ear and you clenched down on him.
“f-fuck… i’m gonna cum.”
oh how san loves fucking you. loves the way your walls flutter around his cock. loves all the sounds you make that he was sure you weren’t even aware of. how you writhe and jerk and shudder and whine and moan and he could go on for days.
“please, sannie,” you whined softly, “please, fill me up, please please please.”
that was the last straw. the desperation in your voice has his stomach flipping and he came just as you finished your begging. a shiver ran down your spine as your body went limp. he kept himself buried in you as one of his hands slide down to rub quick and tight circles on your clit, quickly bringing you to an orgasm that had your eyes rolling back in pleasure.
once all three of you calmed down and got cleaned up, you found yourself relaxing on san’s lap again. this time, you were on one of the couches in the living room as wooyoung sat beside you. while you were in the shower, he cooked up some instant noodles, feeding them to you now.
a hand stroked the outside of your thigh comfortingly as you slurped down the last of the noodles, you recognised it as san’s hand. your legs still felt like jello and you cuddled into him as wooyoung got up to put the bowl away. you felt san press a kiss to the top of your head, practically cradling you.
“you did well, my little blue bird,” he whispered against the crown of your head and pulled you closer, “i could stay like this all day.”
“too bad because it’s my turn now.” wooyoung buckled as he returned, collapsing on the couch and snatching you of san’s grasp without warning. he stuck his tongue out at san as he held the back of you head and pressed your face into the crook of his neck, making you giggle.
san whined and reached his hands out to grab you again only to be swatted away by woo. “hey! no fair.”
“yes, it is fair,” wooyoung giggled, “you’ve had her on your lap long enough.” his best friend glared at him and muttered something under his breath as he looked away with his arms crossed.
“oh, you big baby,” you laughed as you turned your head to look at him. extending you hand to pat his knee.
san’s eyes flashed as an idea lit up in his head. he grinned as he wrapped his arms around both you and wooyoung. you weren’t sure how it happened but next thing you knew, all three of you were laying down on the couch, the two men sandwiching you lovingly.
you felt yourself blush and your brain going blank. wooyoung laughed at the expression on your face, leaning forward to kiss you until san reached over and flicked his forehead. they proceeded to argue about who should be able to kiss you more as you sighed contentedly. you realised there was no other place in earth you’d prefer to be in more than right here, nestled between the two men who you knew would take good care of you.
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networks. @cromernet @blankjournal
taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @hee0soo
2K notes · View notes
ecoterrorist-katara · 3 months
Text
Zutara, romance novels, and the female gaze
Okay so I’ve been thinking about the female gaze a LOT so I checked out a subreddit about romance novels, despite never having read one. I came across this meme (which was initially a Tumblr post and then got posted to Instagram and then to Reddit and I’m now bringing back to Tumblr — Internet telephone, pls never change):
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And…what is The Southern Raiders, if not a platonic grovel? Katara’s pain is central to the episode. It’s central to Zuko. Zuko asks Katara what he can do to make up for his betrayal; she demands the impossible. He reads between the lines, cockblocks her brother to get the necessary information, and then waits outside her door overnight (which he also did for Iroh, the one person we know for sure he loves). He basically makes himself a receptacle for her rage, and he holds space for her by coming with her on her revenge quest and carrying their bags and not saying a damn thing about what she should and should not do beyond like…asking her to rest. And obviously the grovel works! She forgives him and then they’re thick as thieves, bantering and fighting and saving each other’s lives, etc.
On a different note, I’ve been told that enemies to lovers is one of the biggest tropes in romance novels, similar to YA lit and fanfic. Here’s something else I found in the romance novel discourse:
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And…yeah. In TSR, Katara really does show Zuko her worst self, because she doesn’t feel the need to perform for him. She doesn’t feel the need to perform moral perfection OR cold blooded vengeance. She bloodbends in front of him and he just goes with it. She doesn’t kill Yon Rha and he just goes with it. He doesn’t treat her any differently afterwards. Maybe they talk about it off screen, but I kind of like the idea that they don’t, because Katara doesn’t need to explain anything. And it’s so interesting, because some people in the ATLA fandom have a totally different read on TSR. They think Zuko was encouraging Katara to get revenge (by what, keeping his mouth shut?), and that Aang is the one who acts as her moral compass. I believe that either Bryan or Mike said in the DVD commentary that Aang is the angel on her shoulder the entire time. And this interpretation does make sense if you see it from the male gaze, where Katara as an object of affection is acting in an angry, irrational, threatening way. But if you see it from the female gaze, you recognize that actually it’s probably the most emotionally taxing experience Katara has to go through, and she doesn’t owe it to be nice or perfect to anybody. Katara’s formative trauma literally comes to a head, and she has to make a decision — no, a discovery — about who she is in relation to the tragedy that defines her life and even her identity (as a waterbender, as a parentified child who becomes the mom friend, as a genocide victim), and she’s accompanied by someone who trusts her judgement and validates her feelings.
I’m not saying TSR is explicitly romantically coded, but when it conforms so well to romance novel tropes…is it any wonder that so many people thought “yes this is her man?” And then he takes lightning in the heart for her and reaches for her when he’s literally dying, I will never be normal about that either
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lewisvinga · 3 months
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lagunas | carlos sainz x latina! reader
summary; fans finally the dots between y/n’s latest single and carlos’ strange caption ( similar plot to like a damn sociopath!)
fc; karol g MI REINA
warnings; ?
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1
notes; requested ! used lagunas by peso pluma y jasiel núñez! but pretend it’s a girl / karol g who sings it lolllll, but i hope carlos has a fast n easy recovery!!
masterlist !
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
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liked by kaliuchis, alexandrasaintmleux, and others !
yourusername: little surprise para ustedes [for you] 🥹 my new single lagunas is out on all streaming platforms !🌷 huge thank you to the person who inspired me to write this song! guess listening to your family was worth it for me to write my new favorite song!😁❤️❤️
username: EL QUE?? [what]
username: QUEEN W A NEW SONGGG
username: esperaaaa [wait], why is this song so sad
username: wdym by listening to your family was worth it🤨🤨 his family don’t like u mi reina?? [my queen] , i know a friend of a friend 🤨
kaliuchis: como siempre [like always], AMAZING 🌷💗💗
yourusername: ❤️💗💗
username: y nado entre lagunas en mi mente [and i swim in between the lagoons of my mind] 😣 so true mi reina so true
username: ugh she’s gorgeous
username: her voice in this song ☹️ wonder who her ex is bc she never said anything abt him but clearly she cared for him a lot ☹️
username: tbh i think he didn’t care for her as much bc she said he listened to his family lol, if u truly cares for ur gf u wouldn’t leave her no matter what
username: SOOO TRUE
alexandrasaintmleux: amazing amazing 🥹🫶
yourusername: gracias, amor😣💗 [thank you, love]
username: ariana what are u doing here
username: MAYBE LAGUNAS IS ABT A DRIVER?? CARLOS??
username: look at my moot yall, they’re delusional 😹
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and others !
carlossainz55: tal vez en otra galaxia sí fue diferente. [maybe in another galaxy it was different]
username: whats bro waffling abt
username: why are u using mothers song are ur caption….
charles_leclerc: deep
landonorris: so true
carlossainz55:🤨
username: i know charles can’t keep his mouth shut bc how’d pierre know abt lewis before the news?? SPILL LECLERC.
username: nah i think lando is more likely and i know he knows something. lando, you better start talking NOW
landonorris: i plead the fifth 😇😇😇
username: he looks soooo fine wait
username: carlos in his aesthetic era
username: why’d he use the part of the song where she sounded the most sad?
username: okay lagunas has to 100% be about carlos
username: esp when she said in her caption, that he listened to his family and broke up w her, sorry but i can see him doing that
username: he fumbled the baddest bitch, la bichota, rip carlos 🕊️🕊️
username: ughhhhh if carlos n y/n were fr a couple, they would’ve been the finest couple 😫
username: bro whatd u do for her to write and sing lagunas …..
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
yourusername uploaded to their story !
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[caption 1; bueno… <well>] [caption 2; mi hombre siempre <my man always> ❤️]
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
liked by yourusername, charles_lecler , and others !
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carlossainz55: ya volví a besar tu frente y en esta galaxia , yo te quiero más que cualquier cosa en este mundo . [i kissed your forehead again and in this galaxy, i love you more than anything in this world.]
tagged; yourusername
yourusername: mi corazón , como te quiero 🥹💗[my heart, how i love you]
carlossainz55: te quiero, nena❤️ and i was stupid for letting people tell me who to love
username: WHATTTT
username: omg my parents
username: los amo 😞 [i love them]
username: gosh she’s GORGEOUS
username: i seem to have missed the carlos and y/n lore WHAT
charles_leclerc: finally mate😕
landonorris: i was sick of his moping when it was his fault 🙄🙄
carlossainz55: ok ok i learnt my lesson….
yourusername: oh tell me more
charles_leclerc: was surprised he didn’t run out of tears 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️
username: NOT CHARLES AND LANDO EXPOSING CARLOS LMFAOOO😭😭
alexandrasaintmleux: ferrari girlies are gonna be reunited again!😫💗💗
yourusername: making ferrari latinos one wag at a time 😝
username: ok spaniard u won this time….
username: so he IS for the latinas iktr 😫😫🙏
username: still gonna stream lagunas tho😝
533 notes · View notes
chrolloluvr · 3 months
Note
Plsplspls do Adam and Mammon with a reader who behaves like a lovesick puppy and is always battling her eyelashes at them and gets all flustered when they flirt plsss 🙏🏻
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Adam and Mammon w/ S/O who is lovestruck with them.
Note: I LOVE RJIS IDEA!!! ALSO WITH MY TWO FAVORITE MEN BY VIVZIE LIKE HELLO??
Female!Reader
Warnings: Touching, not proofread, but other than that nothing rlly!
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Mammon 🕷️:
He would use this to his advantage. If he wants something from you, he had you wrapped around his fingers.
"Hey babe, yeah, so I need something from ya. You'll do this for me right? Aw, your such'a good girl."
He is so aware that his speech and accent give such a feeling to you. He finds you adorable.
But other than the obvious exploitation, he thinks its cute. Obviously, millions of other girls in Hell feel the same way as you, but he chose you.
But other than that, he loathes in the attention and innocent looks you give him.
He will physically flirt with you. He likes to ruffle your hair, play with your cheeks (both ass and face), ,and his favorite, forcing you to look up at him. He knows his affect on you is dangerously crazy, so he uses that to his advantage.
You feel butterflies in your stomach whenever you're around him, and his loud, obnoxious self. You love how dainty and feminine he makes you feel. You are like his princess, and he is your king. (technically that is true lol)
Because he isn't a traditional man per say, but he has a traditional view on women.
He will mentally flirt with you. He gives you a certain look:
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He only does this when he wants to get you weak in the knees for him. Because he knows it works.
He will always tease you. He gets into your head like no other. When you are with him, it feels like no other man matters, it always circles back to him.
He loves the fact that you are obedient and behaved. He loathes in it. He thinks of you like a cute little puppy (that makes him no money whatsoever, but oh well.).
Verbally flirts with you. Well not necessarily always flirting, but thats what it feels like to you. Here are some things he will say to you:
"Hey babe, c'mere and sit on my lap, hurry up, we dont got all day!"
"Well don't you just look sweet, yeah? Are you tryin' to impress me or somethin'?"
"Cutie, go fetch daddy his wallet, yeah? Good girl, you deserve a little treat later, huh? You'd like that, would'nt ya'?"
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Adam 🕊️:
Always brags about it. When talking to Lute or something, he will be like:
"Oh yeah fore sure. but y'know, y/n can just do that for me or whatever. Shes just like that."
He likes that you are obedient, but sometimes it crept him out, at least in the beginning. You were willing to do almost anything for him. He liked the premise, but it make him weary how much control he had over you.
But now? He uses it against you. He will have you do things for him, like paperwork, helping him clean himself, dressing him, kissing him on the cheek, etc.
He cant get enough of how you pamper him.
Praises you. He will call you a good girl, say your his princess, etc. In a way, they way him and Mammon praise you is very similar. The only difference, is that Adam is more reserved when it comes to praise in public, while Mammon is shameless. This is because he cares about his image in Heaven, and cant do too much under watchful eye.
Also gives you a face:
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This man has such a devious grin, especially when he gets his way with you.
He does this face when he wants to rile you up. He knows he will too, since you are very compliant towards him, since he basically treats you like you two are married.
Also verbally flirts.
"Hey wifey- you look different today... did you do your hair or something? Looks hot."
"Hey babe can you do a favor for me and fetch me some water? Your the best babe, god."
"Aww you get embarrassed when your hubby pokes fun at you? Your such a snowflake babe, a cute little snowflake."
Touches you. He likes to tease your shy, pandering nature. So he likes to blow on your ear, come up behind you and pick you up, or just the occasional slap on the ass.
He loves how shy and embarrassed you become, so he will definitely enjoy continuing his antics.
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endlessthxxghts · 7 months
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Lay Off The Flannels
DBF!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: 1.3k
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Summary: Joel gets handsy while your father temporarily steps away.
Warnings: Age gap (unspecified - obviously a legal one though, hello??). No physical description of reader (pic above is used for aesthetic only!). SMUT 18+ MDNI. Oral sex (F receiving). Using a flannel to clean up🫣... Awkward interactions with an oblivious father. Fluffy/light-hearted ending :). I think that's it! Let me know if otherwise!
Author's Note: Hey y'all! Soo my personal definition of a drabble is when something is written and posted on a whim, and that's exactly what I'm doing here.. This was only proof-read once by me, so if you see any typos and confusing wording... NO YA DIDN'T. Anyway, I have a bunch of WIPs needing to get done, but the stress was getting to me, so I took a break from those and wrote this fun little scenario to calm my mind and give me a good little laugh. I hope you guys enjoy!💚
MASTERLIST
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“We shouldn’t be-”
“I know,” he says. 
“It’s too risky.”
“I know,” he says. 
You pull his lips back onto yours, breathing in each other’s breaths, consuming each other eagerly as if the world was going to end if you didn’t. 
His lips drag down to your jaw, to the sweet spots on your neck that make you mewl such addicting sounds he’ll never tire of, tasting the product of the hard work you did today with your father. His best friend.
His best friend, who- 
“He should be back any minute now,” you say breathily as Joel drops down to the ground, his knees cracking from the sudden change. 
Joel is desperate. Frantic, even. The speed he unbuttons and unzips your jeans and yanks them—underwear included—off of you has your hands flying to grasp at the edge of the workbench you’re sitting on. “Don’t care,” he says, inhaling in a breath, inhaling your arousal. “Need to fuckin’ taste you.” 
Your father’s car crapped out on him a few days ago, and being the untrustful man he was, he bought the parts that needed replacing to do it himself. He had you working on his car with him, teaching you what to do if you were ever stuck in a similar situation—”It ain’t worth the bill, takin’ it to them mechanics. It’ll cost ya an arm and a leg just for them to diagnose your car’s issue even if you tell ‘em ya know what’s wrong, never mind actually fixin’ it,” he said to you this morning. 
As soon as your father left, Joel was making his way to you, large strides cutting the time in half. His arms wrapped around your waist, picking you up from the seat you were situated on and lifted you to the bench against the wall behind you. His lips were on yours immediately, open-mouthed and needy. His hand slammed onto the black button beside your head, the garage door sliding down thereafter.
Joel grabbed onto your thighs, settling them onto his broad shoulders, stabling you and opening you up to him all in one. Wasting no time, his entire face dives into you, tongue immediately going to your sobbing entrance, hooked nose pushing directly onto your clit. 
“Fuck,” you gasp out loud, “Joel, oh my god,” your head hitting the wall, eyes rolling back. 
The moans you’re feeding Joel has him groaning into you, his hands tightening his grip on the bottom of your thighs, the dull ache of it an indicator that you’ll have bruises forming within the hour. 
His tongue—god, you love his tongue—always reaches places you never thought was possible, offering you a glimpse into Heaven each time he tastes you. The squelch of your pussy and his groans equivalent to that of an angel’s choir. You never want him to stop. Especially because his mouth is the closest to Heaven either of you will ever get. 
Your hole begins to flutter around his tongue, your slick pouring out of you at this point. You’re close. Joel knows it. His tongue leaves your hole and is quickly replaced by two of his fingers, sliding in with ease because of your level of arousal. His tongue meets your clit, licking and circling and absolutely worshiping it as if it’s the most unique of pearls to ever exist. 
The combination of his fingers and his tongue—plus his whimpers—are what do it for you. After a few more circles from his tongue, you’re cumming and you’re cumming hard, your liquids running down his wrist and soaking the rim of his sleeve. He gives one last suck to your clit before he lifts off of it, tilting his head up to watch you come undone, his fingers never pausing as he works you through your climax. 
“Baby,” you’re whining, reaching that point of oversensitivity with his fingers, but your hips betray you as they grind into his hand. 
“So fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, gauging the contradictions of your body’s needs and wants. He slowly pulls his fingers out of you, greedily sucking them into his mouth, not letting a drop of your liquid gold go to waste. 
He stands at full height again, his hands on your thighs to scoot you back from the edge, giving you more stability, so he can let go of you and take his flannel off so he can wipe you down with it. 
He sets his flannel beside you, reaching for your bottoms on the ground. He puts them back on you, gentle as ever, and guides you off the bench—albeit, on some wobbly legs. Once you’re breathing returns to semi-normal, you’re grabbing him by his t-shirt and pulling him in for a heady kiss. Your tongue breaches his mouth, and he lets you in selfishly, sucking on your tongue for anything more you can give him. You taste yourself on him, tangy with a hint of something that lights your neurons on fire, turning you on more even though he just pulled one of the most draining of orgasms out of you. 
Joel pulls away from you, and like clock work, the garage door is whirring open. Your father. He’s walking up the driveway with a Harbor Freight bag. 
“Got what you needed?” you immediately ask, trying to control the topic of conversation. 
“Yeah. Why’d you close the garage?” 
Your eyes widen for a fraction of a second before going back to normal. “The heat was getting a little much. Was gonna open it up when you got back,” you say. 
He nods his head, then looks to Joel. “Hey, bud,” he says as he sets his bag down, walking up to give his best friend a handshake. “What’re ya doin’ here?” he asks, “Not that ya need a reason, of course,” he adds quickly, a light chuckle leaves his mouth. 
“Just thought I’d swing by. Thought your girl here was workin’ on your car all by herself, was gonna make sure the damage was minimal,” he teases, looking at you with a wink. “But now you’re here,” Joel smiles. “I gotta take a leak anyhow, I’ll see y’all later, yeah?” Joel says as he makes his way to the end of your garage. 
Your father offers a quick yeah, his eyes zoning in on the flannel atop his workbench. Before you can stop him, your father grabs it. “Oh, Joel, don’t forget ya flannel,” he says waving it in the air as he lightly jogs to him before he gets too far. Joel’s face immediately flushes, as pale as if he’s seen a ghost, as he realizes what your father is holding. His eyes dart to you, your expression just as traumatized. 
“Oh, y-yeah,” Joel says as he quickly takes it in his grasp, “T-thanks.” 
“Yeah, no problem,” he says as he begins walking back to you, stopping midway to turn back to Joel. “And Joel?” your dad yells out.
Joel turns around, reluctant. 
“Maybe lay off on the flannels during the summer, yeah?? That shit was soaked in sweat!” Your father says as his laugh grows to an uncontrollable level. 
Joel’s jaw drops to the floor as your face turns to absolute terror. 
“Dad!” you exclaim, absolutely stunned at his comment. “I’m done helping you for the day,” you say as you shake your head, gathering your things and heading inside.
Your dad’s laugh turns into a howl at your reaction, not realizing (thankfully) what’s got you so uncomfortable. 
As soon as you make it to your room, the entirety of the situation finally hits you, and you’re gasping for air at how hard you’re laughing. 
As you lay on your bed to try to calm yourself down, your phone rings. It’s Joel. Your laughter immediately starts back up again, and you answer, skipping all forms of introduction.
“Better lay off the flannels, Miller,” you say, barely able to keep it together by the end of your comment. 
“Shut up,” he says, stoic as ever.
A giggle erupts out of you, causing the biggest of butterflies to flutter all throughout his belly. “Can I come over later?” 
“I was expectin’ you to, darlin’.” 
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End note: I'm sure there are a few fics out there with a premise similar to this, of reader doin some ✨things✨ with dbf!joel in reader’s dad’s garage 🫣 — I think it's pretty common given that Joel is a pretty laborious kinda guy, so if you've read anything similar, please share them in the comments or message me them! I'd love to read them and also give credit where credit is due. This fic fandom we've created is about spreading creativity, and that's exactly what I would like to do here. :)
Tags: @javierpena-inatacvest @katiexpunk @teatree121 @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @akah565 @pedrostories
EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!
977 notes · View notes
quitesins · 6 months
Text
Boxer! Bakugou x Sports Journalist! Reader
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Masterlist
Tags: Sfw, drabble, aged up bakugou, boxer! bkg, sports journalist! reader, female reader, ooc bakugou? Maybe? Dialogue heavy, I’ve had this in my drafts since feb, idk anything about boxing btw
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“They say you’re a prodigy, Mr. Bakugou but do you think you can keep up with those who’ve been fighting for years?”
Bakugou Katsuki, The Dynamight.
It’s testy to ask a question like that. You’ve watched his other interviews- he’s volatile, quick to anger. So you’re surprised when he looks you over, and smirks.
“You doubtin’ me?” There’s amusement in his voice. He thinks you’re nervous, he’s already disregarded you as a threat.
“No.” You sit up a little straighter. “But you have been uncharacteristically quiet about your training recently. One can only assume why.”
Bakugou lets out a bark of laughter, it’s not one you haven’t heard before but it’s still rare, feeling almost exclusive to the journalists he really doesn’t respect.
“And you’re suspecting it’s because I have nothing to show? Hah!”
You have to force your eyebrows back up, your lips to still curve.
“If not, what else? Aren’t you a little too confident” You pause. “Izuku Midoriya is also force to beat, but even he isn’t so cocksure.”
The crowd around you hushes. No one dares mentions that name. Bakugou grits his teeth, while you smile with yours prettily. It’s a low blow, bringing up his rival, but you’re not here to play nice either.
Bakugou takes a second, then replies. “That nerd would tremble over a baby.” His arm comes out to rest on the seat beside him, and he leans back casually. “His progress has nothing to do with me. I know my skill. I don’t need to be worried.”
It ticks you off how quick he is at regaining the upper hand, like confidence runs through his veins.
Though he looks unperturbed, his team ushers another journalist to the mic, and you have to step back at last. But even as you sink back into the crowd, head lowered, scribbling away at your notes, a pair of red eyes follow you, with intensity you’d be glad not to notice.
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You’re waiting in the cold, under a darkening sky, just outside the hall, when a warmth emerges on your left side. It’s him. The Dynamight. And you jump back startled.
He stands there, clearly entertained by the fact you hadn’t noticed him and then by little gasp when you do.
“Mr Bakugou.” You’re curt, not particularly interested in getting into an argument, expecting that was what he was here for.
“Bakugou’s fine.” His shoulder nudges yours, for a second you think it’s a threat, but the foreign softness of his voice makes you realise otherwise. He’s trying to be… friendly? For what reason, it’s beyond you.
“Bakugou.” You don’t open up, but you don’t shy away either. He seems to take that as a win. “Shouldn’t you be inside, I’m sure everyone is clamouring for your attention.”
He snorts, it’s similar to his laugh during the interviews, but this time you can tell it isn’t taunting. You feel a bit guilty for assuming it had come with malice earlier.
“You’re not one bit scared of me are ya?”
“Should I be?”
Maybe he genuinely enjoys the back and fourth, because he really laughs at that. “Nah, you’d probably write a hit piece on me.”
“I- What?” When his words sink in you fluster at his claim. “No I wouldn’t? What?!”
“I read that article you did on Dabi.” Bakugou raises- without accusation. “The fucker deserved it.”
“It wasn’t like that!” It wasnt. It’s not your fault the famous boxer Dabi— Touya Todoroki had turned out to be former world champion, Endeavour’s son. You weren’t trying to expose any nepotism. It just happened to be. “It’s my job!!”
For a moment, Bakugou thinks you look like a scolded child, trying to defend yourself from the heinous allegation of stealing from the cookie jar.
“Relax. I know.” Bakugou nudges your shoulder again. “It’s why I want you to come interview my gym.”
“What?”
“My gym, Jeanist, Red, the whole lot.” He lists. “I don’t trust any other extra to do it. Either suck ups or fuckin’ liars.”
“And you think I’d be the inbetween?” You eye him warily, you don’t trust his trust.
“Yeah.” He ignores your skepticism. “Plus, it’d be nice to have a pretty girl around for a change.”
Now that’s what gets you speechless. Despite the increasing attempts of gossip mags trying to speculate about the annoyingly handsome Dynamight’s love life, he’d never actually been caught in a dating scandal. Honestly it seemed like the man was far too focussed on himself to have interest in anyone at all.
“That shut you up, huh?”
You’re actually glad he teases, because it reminds you not to fall for whatever charm he’d conjured up. You give him a frown but somewhere in your chest, it feels oddly warm.
“Think about it.” He steps back. “I’ll tell you now, best fuckin’ article you’ll ever write.” He nods over to a car you hadn’t noticed pull up.
It’s your cab, and it’s mildly embarrassing to realise how concentrated you’d been on him. He goes to take his leave and you turn to enter the car. Neither of you say goodbye, you just look away with faint smiles on your faces.
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I had the beginning of dis just floating about in ma drafts since feb, finally added to it so why not post, also yes this is a call to watch Ippo. Miyata my beloved…
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applcrumbl · 11 months
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Argumentative?
Pairings: Rafe Cameron X F! Reader Warnings: Soft Rafe (It’s a warning of it’s own), angst, alcohol mention Author’s Note: I’m so on the fence with Rafe cos like he’s obvs a horrible character, but like he’s such a good character. Like he’s sexy and he’s well-written, I love him. But he’s an arsehole, I hate him. yknow
Summary:  You and Rafe never argue, ever. 
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Despite Rafe’s hard demeanour, and tendency to need the final word at all times, very seldom did you argue in your relationship. For someone living with so much hatred, it was important to Rafe that you never experienced it. 
Typically, you got on well. Similar in interest but completely different in manner. He was the talker, you were the listener. You washed the dishes, he put them away. You simply never fought.
Bickering was different, you’d laugh and joke around, poke holes at a bad haircut and so forth. And naturally, with Rafe, jealousy was a large part of your day-to-day life together, but the anger that came was never directed at you. He knew how un-wandering your eyes were, and he knew how beautiful other people found you. Yes, he’d lose his temper at the Pogue looking you up and down, but no, he would never blame you for it. He knew that you were his.
On the other hand, you were never entirely sure that he was yours. He’d never once cheated, or given you any reason to think that he was, but you were aware of his past when your first met. Aware of the elusive Rafe Cameron who was never tied down for long. Self-consciousness crept in quickly after you’d hit the one-year mark.
A trip to the mainland that you’d chosen to accompany your boyfriend on. Simply a few drinks with some potential clients, Rafe was expected to go following his new position in the family company. The insecurity began when he hadn’t initially invited you, it stayed as you realised how many beautiful women were there - each with eyes on Cameron Development’s newest CEO.
You tried to loop your arm in his, an effort to have the eyes turn away, but Rafe didn’t notice. His hands still tightly in his trouser pocket, networking away. Neither he, or the leggy brunette in front of him noticed as you slipped from his side and found the open bar.
10 Minutes and 3 miscellaneous drinks later, he found you. Tucked away and sipping your straw.
“Hey,” he soothes, “Where ya been?”
You look to him, “Here.” you state, plain and simple.
“Obviously,” He tries to jest, “Why did you leave me?”
“I came for a drink.”
“Why didn’t you come back?”
“Why are you suddenly so interested?”
I must reinstate that you never fought, so anything more than some hushed words, or a light squabble, seriously neared separate bed territory. What might have been a heated conversation to some couples, was a raging bullfight to the pair of you. Rafe had so much of that for the rest of his life. He was adamant that it would never happen with you.
“Let's go outside.” He states; much less a suggestion than a direction, and leads you out a back door to one of Charleston’s quiet alleyways. 
“Talk,” he ordered, hands on each of your arms.
You shrug, “I’ve nothing to say.”
Rafe kisses his teeth, looking away, “Have I done something?” He asks, a hint of insecurity in his tone.
You can’t quite answer, because truthfully he hadn’t. He’d never given you a reason to feel insecure, you just did anyway. Something about knowing that you were never invited, knowing that if you hadn’t decided you’d come along, he’d probably be off with some other woman.
“I shouldn’t have come,” you finally admit, “I should have just let you get on with it like you normally do. Stayed blissfully unaware.”
His eyes squint, “Y/N, I want you here. I have nothing to hide from you?’
You chuckle, it’s hearty but without an ounce of humour to it. “What? Do you think I’m blind or something?” Rafe stands unmoving, taking in your words, “I see you in there, they eat you up, and you feed into it!”
“How do I feed into it?” He’s strangely calm, anger in his tone, but only a whisper of it.
“You flirt! You smile, you complement, you completely ignore that I’m right next to you. Rafe, you don’t even introduce me as your girlfriend-”
“Because I thought it was obvious!”
“It’s not!” You shout, “It’s fucking not.”
The alleyway is quiet again. Muffled voices and music come from inside the door, and a handful of cars driving down the main road a few meters away provide the only light. You see Rafe’s face for a second as they pass by.
“How can other people see that I’m your girlfriend, when I don’t even feel like I am.”
His hands drop to his sides as he inhales shakily. Not a word is spoken, but tears fall from your eyes. Rafe watches them glide, mouth slightly agape. He stands a second more before pulling you into his embrace.
You’d try to fight it, but that’s the last thing you want to do right now. 
“I’m sorry,” Rafe whispers, lips grazing your forehead, “I’m so sorry, Baby”
You want to assure him it’s fine, but it’s not. You were dancing on the grounds of breakup territory, and neither of you wanted that.
“I notice things, Rafe. And you forget that I know your history, I knew who you were before.”
“I’m not him anymore.”
You hesitate your answer, “I know that-”
“Do you?” He asks, pulling away to see your face. His eyes are growing red, obviously fighting back the urge to cry with you, “Because it sounds like you don’t. And I’m not that guy any more, I want you.”
“Do you?”
His words used back on him. Normally he’d continue this argument, fight his way through to victory. Finish the battle with the last word, and full disregard to the other person’s feelings. But, he couldn’t this time. He could never fight with you.
“More than anything.”
Tears fall from his eyes, water staining the silk shirt he wears under his blazer. He doesn’t care, eyes boring into yours, awaiting your words.
"Okay."
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sleepyconfusedpotato · 7 months
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Run Free
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art by me!
Price, Gaz, and Ghost visits the MacTavish Estate baring the news.
Word Count: 2.1k words Warning: Major character death, angst and comfort. Note : I wrote this fic a few days after I finished the campaign. I've always thought it weird why the 141 boys had Soap's ashes when I've always seen Soap as someone with a family and a had good relationship with them, especially since it's canon that Soap's cousin brought him to the SAS base several times as a kid. Here's my interpretation of that fact, on how Soap's urn ended up with the boys.
Price, Gaz, and Ghost wore their dress uniforms from head to toe, finding themselves in front of the MacTavish Estate in Glasgow. It was… big, to say the least. Soap’s family was known not only because a number of people from the family are serving in the British Royal Armed Forces, but also the fact that they are 7th generation furniture company - MacTavish Furnitures. Lots of members of the family are veterans turned businessmen, carpenters, or woodworkers. It is a common cycle of life for them.
As Ghost and Gaz stood, Price climbed the stairs and wore his beige beret, breathing deeply through his nose before letting the air out to prepare himself, lifting his hand to knock on the wooden door. The captain heard faint noises of multiple footsteps from multiple people and some voices of heavy Scottish accent from inside the house. He waited for a moment, until the door finally opened, but he found no one in front of him. 
“Who are ya?”
A little voice spoke from under him, prompting Price to look down. He found a little girl with blonde hair no taller than his knees. She’s absolutely drenched from head to toe in a blue swimming attire and had to bend her neck so high to see him. He bent down to his knees to match her height, before saying,
“Hello. I’m… My name is John.” 
“John? Like Uncle Johnny?” Her little voice said, face gleaming with happiness at the name.
“Yes. Like Uncle Johnny.” Price smiled, chuckling lightly. The girl grinned at his smiling face. “May I see your dad? Or mum?”
“Phoebe MacTavish! Get your wee feet here before I pick your legs off of that floo–! Oh, Hello there.” A new voice came from in front of him, revealing herself to be an old woman with dark brown hair, though with white strands and the same quizzical brow that reminded Price of Soap. She looked strong, nonetheless, wearing a green shirt and knitted vest with a towel hanging from one of her shoulders, obviously to dry the little girl after a session of swimming in their estate’s pool. 
Price stood back up, greeting the lady. “Mrs. MacTavish.” 
The old woman looked at his attire up and down, and Price swore that he saw the gears rotating inside her mind. She looked down at the girl and gave her the white towel, “Phoebe. Go inside and dry yourself. Find your Da, Aunt Rachel, and Uncle Hugh, too. Tell them to meet me at the front door, yeah?” The little girl nodded and ran inside, disappearing into the house as Price heard a faint yelling from the same child, calling for the stated family members. 
Now, the lady in front of him walked closer to the doorway, face to face with him. She’s undoubtedly no taller than 5’7”, a height that might have been receding as time went by, but you could spot a proud MacTavish wherever you see one. Price offered his hand for a handshake as she accepted. “Captain John Price from the 22 SAS Regiment.” 
“Joan MacTavish.” She replied. Price noticed the name as the name on Soap’s file as his guardian, with the relation being marked with ‘Aunt’. “What brings you here, Captain?” Her face looked neutral like it wasn’t the first time a soldier with a full dress uniform knocked on this wooden door. 
Just before Price could say what he wanted to say, a deep voice called to her. “Mum?” One woman and two men with a frame similar to him showed up from inside the house. One man was around Ghost’s age, one was around his age, while the woman in a bun looked older than him, though looking very vibrant and professional. All of them had the same thick eyebrows – Family traits, he supposed – and clearly looked like honourable but firm Scottish people. Upon seeing Price, though, their faces changed from confusion to realization. 
Price remembered that Soap was not the first MacTavish in the SAS. In fact, there was another member of the family, Oliver MacTavish, who died in the line of duty a decade ago. Price remembered the way Soap had told the story of Ollie, his cousin, bringing his little arse to the SAS base  - however unpermitted it was – and how Price had busted Soap multiple times for applying with a fake age. 
“Rachel MacTavish.” The eldest one spoke.
“Hugh MacTavish.” The elder man said, followed by the younger.
“Scott MacTavish. That was my daughter, Phobe.” They all shook hands with Price. 
He repeated his greeting, before Rachel started,
“I've seen the likes of you before. I recognize that beret even from a mile away." She said firmly. "Out with it."
The captain's breath hitched as he cleared his throat, preparing himself to deliver the news. And so, he began.
"On November 21st, our target had placed an active bomb inside the underwater tunnel that connects the UK and France. During our attempt to defuse the bomb, the target sneaked from behind our line of sight…"
The whole family's face changed, Joan's eyes looked glassy with tears seeming like she knew of the incoming words.
"And I regret to inform you… that Sergeant John MacTavish has died in the line of duty."
Ghost, without his mask and black face paint around his eyes, and Gaz with their dress uniforms and beret could only stand from the base of the stairs, watching and hearing as Joan's cry of anguish tear through the morning sky. 
"Oh Lord. Johnny. Johnny. My baby, Johnny." Joan repeated his name like a chanting to the sky. "Why must You take him so soon? Why must he join Ollie so soon?"
The whole family hugged their mother as she wailed, her knees looked like it was giving up. Gaz gritted his teeth to strengthen himself, not wanting to break down to cry himself. 
As the family cried, Price could only stand still, letting the news sink in for the family. His job as the leader of the team was done, at that point. He delivered the news to his family. 
"The bomb…Did he defuse it?" Hugh questioned in the middle of his sobs. 
"He–" Price swallowed, remembering the way Makarov had killed him. "We were both defusing the bomb, John guiding me along the way as he was the demolition expert."
"He protected me, Sir. Our target was about to shoot me, before John stopped him - and got killed instead. The target ran away, but me and Sergeant Garrick managed to defuse the bomb thanks to his prior guidance, saving thousands of lives underneath the 30-mile underwater tunnel." Price answered as Rachel looked up at his face, anger and denial filling her in an instant. 
She raised her hand in such a way that Price knew that she was about to slap him. Price still opened his eyes, fully welcoming the slap before her hand stopped. 
Rachel bit her lips so hard that it might bleed, lowering her arm.
"...Why does it have to be Johnny? Why do you get to live and he doesn't?" She barely whispered in a shaky voice, going back to wiping her face again. “Why Johnny…?”
And Price asked that question every single hour ever since his death. 
Why Soap, and not him?
The MacTavishes requested for Soap's body to be sent to Scotland, where they held a memorial at the MacTavish estate to which they promptly honoured. The number of family members participating was not that many, considering only the immediate family attended. Price, Soap, and Ghost joined them, and even escorted the family as they travelled to the crematorium.
After the whole procession finished – that took the entire day – the family finally had possession of the urn containing Soap's ashes, and they invited the three back to the estate, where they now sit inside the guest room and tea in front of them with Joan and Rachel, his urn placed on a table beside Joan.
That was the day they learned that Soap was actually the son of Joan's late husband's younger sister. Soap's mother – her sister-in-law, died when she birthed Soap, while Soap's father died during an accident in a factory before his own birth. 
Soap had been raised by his uncle's family since his infancy, growing up in the MacTavish house as a strong and firm Scott under the wing of the eldest brother, Oliver. 
"He's always wanted to be like Ollie, that wee kid," Rachel told them after holding a photo album containing photos of Soap when he was a baby in his late uncle's arms, a photo of him and his older cousins playing with mud, photos of his graduations from school, and photos of him passing the test to be a part of SAS along with his cousin, Oliver. "Said he didn't want to go to school. Just visit the army base every day. It's what he dreamed of."
Ghost, still in his dress uniform, felt the most vulnerable in that room - Without his mask, in front of Johnny's family. He also had been in agony for the past day, because he'd failed to cover Johnny's back. He had one job at that time, and he failed, catastrophically. He only sat there with his hands joined in his lap, not daring to look at the family in the eyes. 
"We're very thankful for John's service with us. He was the best there is." Gaz spoke, "John's memory will live with us."
"Thank you, Sergeant Garrick." Joan smiled as she looked up. "I heard you share the same quarters with him in the barracks. I hope he wasn't too much of a naughty boy."
The sergeant chuckled lightly at that, "Well. Soap wasn't someone who could stay away from mischief too long, but I assure you that he's an absolute joy and inspiration to be around." Hearing Joan's laughter cured a little part in Gaz, as the only thing he'd heard from her was the sound of her cry. He could at least pride himself in knowing that he could share Soap's merry nature.
As they share memories, Price finished his tea before he stood up from the sofa, followed by the other two. "Well. We must take our leave, Ma'am. Thank you for the tea."
"Anytime." Joan spoke as the soldiers started to leave the sofa, heading towards the main room and front door. 
"Which one of ya’s is ‘LT’?"
Rachel’s voice stopped the men in their tracks, particularly Ghost’s. All three men turned around, finding the woman holding Soap’s urn in her hands. Price saw how Ghost's face turned to that of a deer in a spotlight, so he put his hand behind Ghost’s back to lightly push him towards Rachel, but Ghost’s hesitancy was apparent in the way he slowly walked. 
“...That would be me, Ma’am.” Ghost’s deep voice rumbled softly as he looked down to Rachel’s height. The lady herself observed him up and down with a negative face that she could convince him that he was standing there naked. 
“Yer tryin’ so hard to make yourself look small for such a big man. It’s almost dreading.” She started, her hips shifting. “I’ve been the CEO of MacTavish Furnitures since my da’ passed away and Ollie decided to go to the army, and I read people like a book. For someone whom Johnny admired the most – and repeatedly spoke about – you don’t look like the LT I heard from him.” Ghost was starstruck at the statement. Soap, talking about him to his family? “I expected you to be cocky and exude pride in your steps, but all I’m seein’ is just a pathetic, sad bloke.” 
Ghost stood still at those comments. No one practically had ever roasted him this badly in front of his teammates. He wondered if he showed up in his other attire, she’d dare to say all this. But then again, if someone got to do it, he was glad that it came from an honourable woman of the MacTavish bloodline. 
What caught him off guard was her hands stretching towards him, holding Soap’s urn in front of his chest. Ghost looked down at the metal container, looking confused as he looked up again to face Rachel. He thought the MacTavishes were going to hold on to Soap’s urn, and they get to keep Soap’s dog tags. However, clearly, the current head of the family had other wishes.
“Take Johnny with ya. Being trapped inside this urn for eternity in this old house would be the last thing he wanted.” The woman started with a shaky voice, her eyes starting to brim with tears again. Seeing Soap’s character, Ghost could understand that completely. 
“He’s… the proudest he could ever be when he’s with ya’s." Rachel continued. 
"So I ask you, as our brother’s comrades, to hold on to Johnny – and free him.” 
Ghost’s eyes opened wide in surprise, still couldn’t fathom how fondly Soap must've talked about his teammates, especially him, to his family that they’d give him his ashes. Ghost lifted his hands to carefully receive the urn. 
After breathing deeply, Ghost stood straight, holding Soap firmly. 
“We will, Ma’am.”
The three of them walked towards the car parked just outside the MacTavish estate with Ghost holding Soap’s urn in his hands. They all took off their berets and entered the car, Price the designated driver, Gaz riding shotgun, while Ghost sat in the backseat. 
“So what do we do with him, Sir?” Gaz rotated his body to look at Soap’s urn on Ghost’s hands, same as Price.
Ghost contemplated in his mind, staring at the metal urn, before speaking, “Where’s Johnny’s place of birth?” 
Price answered immediately as he’s the one who took care of Soap’s documents. “Isle of Skye.” 
“Soap said there’s a beautiful cliff where he and his cousins used to go to play. Endless sea where the eyes could see.” Gaz added.
“Then that’s where we’re goin’.” Ghost spoke with finality. “And then we’ll let Johnny go.”
Price and Gaz nodded to each other. "Alright, Soap. Let's get you home." The captain started the car and stepped on the gas, beginning their journey towards the Isle of Skye.
---
I'm not okay. Thank you for reading! (T_T) reblogs and comments of your thoughts are much appreciated!
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grllmx · 5 months
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"Ragatha in Wonderland"
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🌻 Them side by side for height difference 🌻
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Heya!! Y'all wouldn't mind some info dump, would ya?
But before I share my thoughts and ideas for this au, note that I am making this all for fun and that I am only merging two concepts at once because they sound fun in my head!
-- So without further ado, let's start shall we?
Ragatha in Wonderland is a fun silly lil' au I thought about in my spare time (Though I am aware that I'm not the only person who had similar ideas) buuut! Here's my take on how this concept goes ~
💜🟣🎀- - - - - RAGATHA IN WONDERLAND - - - - -🎀🟣💜
🌻 Wonderland is similar yet different from the Circus. Many possibilities await in this newly found land, but wait... How odd, suddenly everyone and everything is of new variation! Did things really stay the same? Are things different? It's a confusing world that warped and transformed the original digital land into something new. New places to explore, new outfits! New concepts... New people? It seems everything changed. Perhaps even... True death is possible now.
Ragatha - Plays the role as Alice. Confused and bewildered at first but Ragatha progressively adapts to the world and the surroundings around her. Acts like herself for the first portions of the story but as she dwells longer in this 'wonderland' she loses herself, her identity, as if the place was sucking out all of 'her'. She'll meet a lot of familiar faces. She feels comforted, knowing that she isn't alone in this newly found world but little does she know - they are not what she seemed.
Jax - The white rabbit leading Ragatha to wonderland. Jax was the one who dragged her in this, so Ragatha's first instincts was to follow him, hoping he knows where the exit is. Though he often plays tricks, teasing and playing with Ragatha's head whenever given the chance. Maybe he doesn't sound like a reliable shoulder to lean on, but he is Ragatha's key in terms of escaping wonderland.
Gangle - Starring as the mouse and the dormouse. The first person (other than Jax) Ragatha meets in wonderland. Gangle is skittish and has an extreme fear of cats. She does not like hearing or mentioning them, her mouse-like features says so otherwise. Though, in later unfortunate events, Ragatha scares her by mentioning, you guess it, cats. And then flees elsewhere.
Zooble - Following the (possibly tobacco) smoke trails, enters in the wise caterpillar. Meeting for the first time was not fun, in Ragatha's case mostly. Zooble asks Ragatha a lot of questions, typically centering around herself which gradually starts her descend into madness. Zooble's questions hit hard for Ragatha, making her realize a lot of things and learn more about the world. Though one question stuck the most, "who are YOU?"
Caine - The Hatter/Mad hatter. Need I say more? Hehe, anyways... Caine, alongside Bubble, is notably the most mad or insane person living in wonderland. Always yapping about random things (Riddles, jokes, factual statement... you name it) that can either be truth or made up, which Ragatha can't tell the difference of since they are always so surreal and deranged, or in other words, utter nonsense! He is another character that made Ragatha's mental state and mindset deteriorate. (Ragatha wishes to never meet him again)
Pomni - It's Pomni! Though, something is off... Pomni's role is the Cheshire cat. She's willing to help Ragatha escape, even suggesting ideas that felt to be possible, but are things really that easy? No, of course not! She is a red herring, a person filled with mischief that fools and plays with her victims until she deems them boring. Ragatha meets Pomni in the woods right after she ran away from Caine, and just like Jax, Pomni plays with Ragatha's head. But eventually helps her out and leads her to the kingdom's garden.
Kinger - Sometimes, a king is fit to be queen. Kinger is the Queen of Hearts, a short tempered, bossy but childish queen. After first meeting, Ragatha didn't deem Kinger as a threat at first, even playing a simple game of croquet with him. But as she starves and remembers that hunger was present in this land, she secretly ate the queen's well-known 'tarts'. This resulted into the seething rage of Kinger, declaring a court trial in which Ragatha was later proven to be 'guilty'. Hence, "OFF WITH HER HEAD!"
🌻 So, spoiler alert -- Just like in original tales and stories inspired by Alice in Wonderland, this was all in Ragatha's head, a dream! I'm debating to either turn this into a comic or not, because I think it helps further explain my ideas, but who knows? Maybe with the right motivation and energy, I might do it.
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Thank you for reading! Have a nice day/night 🌻
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gyumiesz · 5 months
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baby fever - part 1 ; part 2
word count: 487
side note: thank you for all the love :D it makes me so happy people loved my first and second part so here’s a third to all my pookies out there, mwah.
it’s your day off. fighting villains everyday weren’t ideal, not to mention how exhausted you are from such a long shift. the moment you arrive home, your body gave out.
as you doze off, noises clatter in the kitchen. your husband and 2 year-old son are in the kitchen, doing as they please.
katsuki understands being a mother, a wife and a hero altogether can take a toll on your body, hence why they’re creating a mess right at this very moment—not that you needed to know.
your husband knows how pouty you can be when it comes to huge messes in the kitchen.
“look at me, dada! look at me!” daiki chirps, standing tall on the other side of the counter, across from his father. “i mixed the ‘nana (banana)” his little grin causes katsuki to chuckle at the sight of his son covered in pancake batter.
“good job, little man. mama is going to be so proud of you. let’s get you all cleaned up” your husband proceeds to hoist up daiki, unknowingly slipping on a banana peel. the one daiki tossed onto the floor.
the both of them go tumbling. katsuki landing right on his back with daiki wrapped securely in his arms as a pained grunt spews right out of his mouth. he curses under his breath, staring down at a giggling daiki. pancake batter drips down his shoulders. his hair has been flattened, drenched from head to toe.
daiki points at his father’s hair. “uh-oh. hair color same as ‘nana”
“ya think yer funny, huh?” katsuki tuts.
“nu-uh. I t’ink dada is funny!”
you snort from the hallway. arms crossed with an amused smile spreading across your lips. No wonder you heard so much clinking, your boys were making breakfast. “it takes two to tango” katsuki swears his soul takes a flight at the sound of your voice. you were sound asleep when he last checked.
“hi mama!” daiki zooms out of his father’s lap, jumping right into your arms. “i mixed ‘nana wit’ dada!”
“good job, baby. i’m so proud—“ whoosh. you don’t get the chance to finish before katsuki leaps his way over, causing all three of you to slip backwards as a squeak erupts from the back of your throat. “—katsuki!”
“mhmm, that’s my name, sweets. i suppose we all have to bathe together now” he mumbles into your neck. you make a face and katsuki doesn’t have to know what kind of expression you’re making, because he can feel your face muscles shifting in their spot.
“nice try, katsuki. you too, daiki. get up and start cleaning” you watch as they both pout.
sometimes, you wonder how strong your husband’s genes are—they were just too similar. you couldn’t help but chuckle. “i’ll re-make the pancake batter and add in your favorites in return” they were immediately up and ready, saluting you.
home is where your boys are.
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