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hotchnerwrites · 1 month ago

Note

“Enemies to lovers, but only one of them thinks they're enemies. The other has been entirely obsessed since the beginning.” Saw this concept on here and got me thinking—reader works at the bau and thinks hotch hates her, but in reality it’s the opposite and she’s misreading his signals?

Mixed Signals

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: SFW, idiots in love, good ending, swear words

A/N: Hi hi hi hi!!! sorry for the long wait!!! finally have some time on hand from exams and im getting all reqs done!!! chose to go down a dry humour/funny route for this. honestly reminded me of my olive branch fic, except it's reversed ahahah. anyway, thank you so much for your patience. i hope you enjoy this!!!! so much love, mwah mwah mwah <3

My requests are open. Send me stuff! Please read the rules before asking, and be advised there is a slight wait time right now. But I will post for sure. :)

ps- i kind of maybe forgot to proofread so let's pretend any errors don't exist 😬

At the end of the day, it was just work.

You all were colleagues— professionals selected for their skills, all crammed together into one bullpen and expected to play nice. That didn’t mean you had to be friends. People were allowed to dislike each other if they wanted. It happened. Tensions flared, personalities clashed, and someone always ate the last yoghurt tub.

And if Aaron Hotchner happened to hate you in particular, well, that was his right. It was just part of the job. And you were aware of it. Oh, so aware. Acute, constantly and embarrassingly aware.

There was no question about it: he hated you. Not disliked. Not tolerated with professional indifference. No— this was loathing. Cold, calculated, deep-in-his-bones hatred.

You felt it in your blood every time Hotch walked into the bullpen and skipped over you when saying good morning. It radiated from his office like a laser death ray whenever you laughed a bit too loud.

It wasn’t paranoia. You’d done the math.

Morgan? A nod of approval. Prentiss? Professional respect. Reid? Indulgent patience. Rossi? Best friends. You? Fuck all.

You were sick of the stone-faced silence. And that look he did. That little glance from the corner of his eye, paired with a crease between his brows. Like your presence caused him physical pain. You’d once made a joke in the SUV, and he sighed. Not laughed. Sighed. It was actually quite impressive, how consistent he was about it.

You’d retaliated by calling Hotch all kinds of names. Mentally, of course. It was childish and dramatic, you know. But no more dramatic than the way he had once corrected your paperwork with a red pen, and hadn’t even told you— just left it on your desk like a cursed object.

You tried not to take it personally. For a while, it worked. But then he started doing this thing— this new thing— where he’d enter a room, and leave as soon as you walked in. It had only happened twice, but it had been the same excuse both times: that superiors called him away. Suspicious.

So you did what any well-adjusted and emotionally mature adult would do. You went straight to Garcia’s office and told her that your boss hated you and you were going to get fired because he could smell your weakness. She’d gasped, handed you a bejewelled stress ball, and offered to hack into some database on your behalf (you declined, but it was nice to feel loved for a change).

Still, you couldn’t shake it. It seemed like he couldn’t be in your orbit for more than three and a half minutes without the need to file an HR report.

So when the moment came, you weren’t prepared.

●・○・●・○・●・

You were in the briefing room, finishing up your notes after everyone else had gone. The case had closed. People were smiling. Even Hotch had smiled at someone. (Not you. Obviously. But still.)

You were alone now, sorting through crime scene photos, muttering under your breath about timelines, when his voice startled you.

“You missed lunch.”

You jumped. Clutched a photo like a weapon. “Hotch—you can’t just sneak up on people like that.”

He looked vaguely alarmed. “I knocked.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I did,” he insisted, like someone trying to explain doorbells to a raccoon.

You narrowed your eyes. “What do you want?”

He paused. Then, slowly, he stepped forward and—without ceremony—placed a sandwich in front of you. Neatly wrapped. Labelled with your name. From your favourite place.

You blinked. “…What is this?”

“You didn’t eat.” A beat. “It’s been a while since the brief ended.”

“I— I was going to—”

“I’ve noticed.”

You stare at the sandwich like it’s a bomb. Then at him.

“You got me food?”

“Yes.”

“Because you hate me and you’re trying to poison me?”

He blinked. “What?”

“It’s fine,” you said, hands raised in mock surrender. “I respect it. A clean kill. No one would suspect a thing.”

“…Why would I hate you?”

You let out a single, disbelieving laugh. “Are you kidding? You avoid me like I’m radioactive. You only talk to me when absolutely necessary, and even then, you struggle. You sigh when I speak.”

Hotch looked absolutely, entirely baffled.

“I sigh at everyone.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do. It’s a thinking thing.”

You scoffed. “Well, you don’t think around Morgan that much, apparently.”

He exhaled. Then, before you could launch into Exhibit D (the Unspoken Broom Closet Incident), he said:

“I’ve always valued your insight.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Your reports are consistently the most thorough. Your geographic profiling is precise. You’re one of the most detail-oriented agents I’ve worked with.”

You stared at him. “…So you don’t hate me?”

“No,” he said quickly. Too quickly. “Quite the opposite.”

Silence.

You opened your mouth, about to ask what the opposite of hate even meant in Hotch-speak, but he was already turning away, clearing his throat.

“Anyway,” he said, suddenly very interested in the wallpaper, “I thought you might want lunch. That’s all.”

And then he was gone. Just—left. Like he hadn’t just lobbed that cryptic grenade over his shoulder and walked away.

●・○・●・○・●・

You don’t eat it right away. Not because you’re still suspicious—it’s from your favourite deli and has your name written on the brown paper in what can only be described as Hotch's weird, neat serial killer handwriting—but because you're too busy mentally disassociating.

Quite the opposite.

What on earth did he mean?

The rest of the day passes in a weird, slow-motion haze. JJ gives you a weird look when you accidentally sit in her chair. Reid asks if you’ve seen his recent paper, and you blink at him like you’ve just returned from war.

Because you’re thinking. Hard.

Like:

That time Hotch asked if you were staying late and then looked weirdly panicked when you said you were walking home.

The morning you came in limping from breaking your ankle, and he said, “You shouldn’t be here,” in the flattest tone imaginable.

How he called you by your first name once, and you almost fell out of your chair because he never uses anyone’s first names. You chalked it up to a lapse.

And then. Then, the worst one.

Last month. You’d been coughing like a maniac during a briefing. He had placed a bottle of water in front of you with a dull thunk. At the time, you had taken it to be his passive-aggressive way of saying please shut the fuck up right now. Only to find out later from JJ that he’d actually gotten up and left mid-meeting to get that water for you.

Now you're sitting at your desk rewatching it all in your head like the twist ending of a psychological thriller.

●・○・●・○・●・

You don’t see Hotch again until nearly 6 p.m., and when you do, he’s at his office door, jacket folded over one arm, clearly intending to head out.

You’re not even thinking when you get up and intercept him halfway down the hall.

He stops mid-step when he sees you. “Everything alright?”

“I… need you to clarify what’s going on.”

He exhales like someone who just got caught by airport security. “About what?”

You try to keep your expression neutral, but your heart is pounding like you’re about to ask your boss if he’s mad at you—because that’s exactly what you’re doing.

“You’ve been… weird,” you say finally. “With me. For months.”

Hotch tilts his head. “Weird.”

“You barely speak to me unless it’s about a case. You avoid sitting near me on the jet. I brought cookies in last week, and you took one, then put it back. Who does that?”

He has the audacity to look mildly horrified. “I didn’t mean to put it back.”

“That’s not the point.”

You’re spiralling and he knows it. You can tell by the way his jaw tightens like he’s trying not to laugh. You, on the other hand, are mortified.

“I just need to know,” you continue, quieter now. “If I did something wrong. If I’ve annoyed you somehow, or if you genuinely just… can’t stand me.”

There’s a beat of silence, just long enough to make you want to crawl into the floor tiles.

Hotch runs a hand down his face. “I don’t hate you.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“I—” He pauses, and then, with all the charisma of a man giving a congressional hearing, says, “You make me nervous.”

You blink. “Sorry?”

“You… distract me,” he mutters, like he’s admitting to tax fraud. “I didn’t mean to be distant. I thought it would help.”

“Oh.” It comes out stupidly small, because your brain is too busy cataloguing every single interaction the two of you have ever had and realising, oh no, he was just emotionally repressed and completely, tragically bad at this.

You swallow. “So… you don’t think I’m annoying?”

“No,” he says, almost immediately, and then after a pause, “Not even a little. Not even when you talk over me in briefings.”

You almost laugh. “That’s because you talk like we’re in court.”

“And you talk like you’re arguing with your GPS.”

Now you do laugh, and something about the way his shoulders ease tells you this is maybe the most honest conversation you’ve ever had with him.

You look at him for a second longer, searching his face. “You’re really bad at this.”

“I know.”

“You could’ve just said you liked me.”

“I’m saying it now,” he says, softer.

And okay—maybe Hotch didn’t confess it with a rose in his teeth and violins playing in the background. Maybe it came out like a man filing paperwork for a broken heart. But it’s still something.

“You want to get coffee or something?” you ask.

He nods once. “Yeah. I do.”

You don’t know what this is yet. But it doesn’t feel like work. And this time, he didn’t glare— so, by your standards, that was basically a proposal.

Thanks for reading! I appreciate any likes/comments/reblogs/follows. Constructive criticism is welcome. Do not plagiarise my content and/or post it anywhere without crediting me.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

#criminal minds #hotchnerwritescm #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x f!reader #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds x you #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x bau!reader

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zlut4rina · 3 months ago

Text

Freakum Dress

Storyline: Although you and your girlfriend work through each other's busy schedules, learning to make time for one another. You can't help but feel a bit "neglected" one specific day. As a way to get your girlfriends attention, you pull out what you like to call a "Freakum Dress." I mean, every woman has one.

Pairings: dom!g!p!minjeong x sub!femreader

Warnings: Smut with Plot, heavy kinks, breeding kink, slapping, biting, unprotected sex, oral (both receiving), degrading, she refferes to you as "doll" a lot, stomach buldge, VERY DETAILED (im a whore mb) prob a bunch more I forgot abt-

Note: I thought of this while in my math class ... also heavily and obviously inspired by the Beyonce song Freakum dress duhhh(minus the "he's out doin wrong" and going out to party part) My first time writing and posting something like this on tumblr Gulp .. enjoy (u better)

Word count: 5.4k (my apologies ima plot whore)

___________________________________________

It was around 6 in the afternoon, you lie in bed scrolling on your phone in a dimly lit room. The atmosphere was warm and calming, all that was heard was the intense typing from your girlfriend and her keyboard. She’s still at it, by this time you both would be cuddling enjoying the warm embrace of your loved one. But no, Minjeong had extra work to get done. I mean it wasn’t really her fault her boss emailed her a day before hand letting her know of the possibility of extra work, she needed to turn in. Of course knowing her she forgot having to do that ANDDDD the other things needed to be complete today, and let’s just say … your girl was stressed!

You noticed of course, I mean how could you not when she was practically ignoring you all day. At least that’s how you saw it. While tapping away at your phone for hours on end you finally set it aside, taking this time to scan your surroundings your strained yet tired eyes landing on the back of your girlfriend’s head. You watched her closely admiring the way her fingers moved at such a fast yet flowy pace. The way she bit her lip when she made a simple spelling mistake. The way her brows furrowed tightly at her bright computer screen, creating a beam that shunned only upon her and the small corner she was in.

You sucked your teeth in annoyance rolling your eyes as you threw the blanket that was once covering half of your body to the other side of the bed. Getting up you made your way to her, hand on the back of her chair you leaned down your faces matching in level. “Still working huh? How longs’ it been babe?” You question watching as she flinched slightly to the sound of your voice so close to her ear. Never stopping her movement on the keyboard she answers “I don’t know … an hour or two maybe?” she says looking at you briefly before Turing her attention back to her screen, slightly slouching a bit now. You cringed at this, how could she be so focused on stupid paper work. I mean for this long too?! This is unacceptable and honestly ludicrous you thought.

Your gazed froze on her admiring her features taking in a pretty yet annoying site. You leaned in and gave her a small kiss on the cheek, to no avail she didn’t even react only a few blinks as she switched from tabs scrolling through paragraphs of lost media. You groaned a little your lips curling into a frown. “Maybe you should take a break, no?” You say tilting you’re head a bit to the side locking your eyes with hers a small pout on your face. “I can’t babe, I need to get this done before tonight.” You stared at her for a while blinking a few times before finally standing up straight taking a few steps back. “Okay...” You said Barley below a whisper. You turned your body swiftly on one foot making your way downstairs to the bathroom.

After you used the bathroom, you lost track of time sitting on the couch watching TV. Coming to this realization you check your phone seeing it’s 10:45, you turned the TV off and made your way upstairs to your shared bedroom where you assumed your girlfriend to be sleeping. Oh boy where you wrong upon opening the door you see her still at her desk typing away. “Minjeong… baby, c’Mon no way your still at this.” You said softly with a hint of sadness in your voice. Obviously, she ignored you as if you didn’t even exist it made you sad yes but you had a trick up your sleeve. Never thought times would be this tough, never expected to bring “her” out. She was only a backup plan if all else failed and well in this situation, everything failed. Noticing the lack of attention you made your way to the closet in your bedroom. Turing around to her once more before rummaging through to find it, her your plan Z. You made your way to the bathroom downstairs changing into her the dress you bought for moments like these. You never really expected to have moments like these before, I mean Minjeong was obsessed with you so there was no need to try to grab her attention in such way. But every woman has one and you just so happen to be one of those women.

You made your way to the top of the stairs where your shared bedroom was along with the woman you plan to steal from her busy work. Strutting your way up you met the door taking a deep breath in you twisted the knob entering slowly and quietly. “Minjeong…” you said in a soft yet alluring tone but loud enough to catch her attention. She turned her head to you fast then back at the screen. “Wha-..” she couldn’t even finish her sentence before she cocked her head back at you, you would think she broke her neck with how fast she turned to you. Mouth slightly open eyes wandering, everywhere, anywhere. She couldn’t take her eyes off you staring in awe at your beauty, you stood there nervous was it working ? Did it already work ? What’s next ? As those questions ran through your head minjeong turned back around focused on her work again, or so you thought. Her right hand reaching down to push her growing bulge down from view. Suddenly a random burst of confidence took over you strutting your way to your girlfriend you push her hands off the keyboard and sit yourself on her lap your eyes catching each other in an intense gaze. A battle you weren’t willing to lose “What’s your deal?” Minjeong asked placing her hands on your hips keeping you in place perfectly on top of her growing cock. You gulped keeping your eyes on her placing your hands on her shoulders “I should be asking you that instead.” You said tilting your head to the side a little a smug look on your face as you said so. “Ahh what’s this about babe” your girlfriend asked moving your hips forward on her keeping eye contact, she was teasing you. Of course she was, but you couldn’t back down now.

You kept your gaze with her your eyes flickering down to her lips in one swift movement “You like work more than me?” You questioned now looking her in the eyes furious yet in a pleading way. “Ohhh babe I’d never do that to you, you know that” she says leaning closer to your face. “Clearly you’re too sexy to ignore...” She says lips grazing yours as she spoke gripping your ass tightly, that’ll definitely leave a mark. You melted into her touch almost immediately pushing your face closer to her desperate for a kiss only for her to pull away and shake her head. “uh uh how do I know if you really miss me if you really want me” she says voice lower and more seductive massaging your ass as she spoke. Minjeong was hard, rock fucking solid it was obvious to the both of you who knew you had this much of an effect on her. You whined quietly grinding a bit on her stiff pants, immediately Minjeong stopped your movements holding your hips down tightly definitely to leave a bruise later. “Oh c’Mon doll, use your words. I know you can” She coos at you almost as if she’s taunting you “Minjeong ... please … I need you” You finally spoke Barley above a whisper eyes leaving hers staring down at your laps. Gripping her shoulders lightly as you begged, you don’t even know what you where begging for you just, needed her and that was all that mattered.

Minjeong’s eyes darkened after hearing that she leaned in and kissed you soft and sweetly before it almost immediately turned heated and sloppy. She kissed you with so much force and dominance there was no point in fighting against her. Why would you anyway, her hands gripped your hips tighter digging her nails into your skin causing you to whine and wince at the pain. It was beautiful you loved when she got like this, taking her anger out on you or just straight up using you as a way to relieve herself .

Minjeong pulled away from the kiss out of breath looking you in the eyes hungry. She licked her lips before picking you up while getting up from her chair, she let you go standing in front of her as she sat on the end of the bed. Leaning back on her elbows she looked at you in the eyes looking you up and down admiring your body the way your curves complimented the dress the way the fabric clung to your body like a glove, the pretty lacing on your legs. “Well, whatcha waitin’ for it ain’t gonna suck itself is it now pretty girl?” You gulped getting down on your knees before her, stroking her thighs up and down staring at the intense bulge in her pants begging for release. Your hands slowly making their way up her thighs massaging the huge tint in her pants “fuckk ..” minjeong groaned at the feeling, laying down fully on her back a hand behind her head the other going to reach yours stroking your hair slowly. You slowly reach to the top of her pants and pull them down using one hand to massaged her slightly clothed cock. You kissed it, softly and slowly leaving kisses on her aching penis. Finally after toying with her you pull down her boxers slowly causing her long uncut cock to spring out. You stared in awe the way her precum ran down the side of her cock, you stared at it loving how it twitched too absolutely nothing, the pretty curve it had to it. Your gaze didn’t last long closing your eyes leaning in to give her cock a long-wet lick base to tip, once you reached the top you sucked and tongued her tip playing with her foreskin sucking on it leaving a loud pop sound as it slipped out your mouth.

Downing the whole thing in one go causing the girl under you to twitch and grip your hair. She let out a breathy moan as she trusted into your mouth slowly and shakily “you’re so perfect at making me feel good, want my cum deep in your throat huh? Don’t you doll”. Her voice a low husky tone throwing her head back onto the bed as you worked your mouth Bobbing your head in different patterns just the way she liked. Your tongue working magic on her tip making her twitch and buck her hips into each lick you give her. Spit pooling out your mouth onto her harden cock. You use your free right hand to cup and play with her balls skillfully earing a long and breathy moan from the girl. Using your left to stroke her as you tongued at her from above, Minjeong was in heaven the way you worked your mouth on her was like a reward only she can recall. This isn’t your first time doing this oh no, you’ve sucked her off plenty of times more than you can count on both hands. You’re not complaining though you loved it and so did she so of course you’d be willing to do it whenever she liked.

Minjeong grabbed your head with both hands forcing you to take all of her deeper. Taking your hands away and placing them on her thighs for balance you gagged taking in her long cock. The thick mix of saliva and precum causing you to choke a bit on her, nothing too amateur for you though. “You like that doll, huh? Having your throat full of this huge cock in your mouth yea?”. You could only whine in response tears rolling out your eyes, this was your favorite pain and pleasure. Minjeong’s movements became more ragged and fastened in pace as her moans became more vocal. You could tell she was close , you worked your tongue like a pro for her wanting that sweet relief just as much as she did. And with a few more hard disgusting pumps into your mouth she came hot strings of cum hitting the back of your throat coating your mouth heavily. You pull your head back and swallow licking your lips, as cum and spit dripped down your mouth. Eyeing Minjeong and the way her chest rose and fell you sat on your knees waiting for your next order. Minjeong finally arises and sits up “Somethings definitely gotten into you doll…” she says reaching for your chin making you look up at her. Rubbing lines back and forth on your wet lips “Get up.” She orders, and of course you stand up almost immediately

She reaches for the lace on your legs and ripped it off like a hungry savage causing a small gasp to leave your lips hands moving to her shoulder for balance. After tugging away at you she finally had your pretty wet cunt on display for her, she ran her middle finger through your soaking wet slit coating her fingers the second she reached into your heat. “Mm- min please” you moaned head tossed down as she played with you, her fingers dancing around your cunt refusing to enter you correctly. She played with your clit rubbing it in circles causing you jolt your hips forward at her. “Please baby… I was good for you, no?” Minjeong only stared at you halting her movement making you whine because of the lack of touch she gave. Minjeong grabbed your hand from her shoulders, leading you onto the bed where she laid on her back. “Let me taste you doll, let me taste how good you really are.”. She said with a smirk licking her top row of teeth she ordered you to turn around with a wave of her finger. Of course you obliged to her, who are you to say no there’s not like you have a choice to say no either in this situation. You turned your body and slowly backed up on her she pulled your lower half down to her face blowing on your wet cunt, you shook slightly minjeong cheesed at this loving her effect on you. She toyed with you again her fingers playing in your wet heat rubbing up and down coating her digits in sweet ecstasy. You could only whine pushing your hips back on her more needing some sort of friction to your heat “You’re so needy doll. That’s how you even ended up here anyway, you’re such a whore.” She landed a loud slap on your ass making you moan in response head jolting up at the moment of connection. “Were you desperate for my attention or desperate to be fucked like the stupid cum doll you are huh?”. She landed another hard slap to your other cheek this one creating a hand print “Answer me slut.” She said in a rough tone, as soon as those words left her mouth she shoved three fingers into you without warning. “Ahh fuck, min” You moaned out body falling onto hers.

You reached to stroke her still harden wet cock, Minjeong slapped your ass again this time rougher than before. It hurt yes but it hurt so good tears left your eyes and you drooled slightly. “Are you gonna answer or does someone need to be punished?” she asked taking her fingers out that were once working in and out of you. You whined shaking your head in response “Stupid girl, I told you to use your words.” Minjeong slapped your ass hard before driving her face deep into your cunt sucking and licking as if she were a starving stranger. Your back arched eyes rolled back moan after moan escaping your lips. Minjeong went ham on you sucking your clit her tongue flicking it and rubbing circles on it from time to time. It felt amazing all you could do was moan almost forgetting to stroke your pretty girlfriend off, your hand went up and down on her cock you lent down to lick it and suck the tip and your other hand went to her balls and played with them once again. Minjeong soon shoved three fingers back into your cunt as her lips and tongue went to work on your folds and clit leaving quiet pop sounds as she did her magic. Her arms wrapped around your waist keeping you in place forcing you to lower yourself onto her face burying her deep into your soaking wet cunt. Moans escaped from both of your mouths hers causing vibrations in your body. You could feel a knot building up in your stomach, Minjeong knew you were close the way you clenched around her fingers hearing your toes pop after curling them, the way you just couldn’t keep still above her. Alas you couldn’t keep focusing on yourself you took your attention back to your girlfriend’s cock sucking it hungrily and sloppily. Everything felt too good to stop, too good focus on just one thing you both just fucked each other hypnotized by the scent of sex in the air.

With a few more sucks and strokes you both came hard, both your bodies shaking your girlfriends cum landing all over your face and tongue. Minjeong gathered all the cum that spilled out tonguing and sucking to get all of it out. She didn’t stop there she kept her movement still fingering you at such a slow pace tongue licking your clit sucking on it just to get a sweet reaction out of you. “Think you can give me another doll?”. She asked face still deep in your heat causing you to shiver you shook your head side to side earning a smack “Just how stupid are you?”. Your girlfriend asked angry halting her fingers movement in you. She pushed you off of her turning your body like a ragdoll forcing you to sit on her face. She locked you down with her arms wrapped around your waist keeping you in place. She started devouring your sensitive cunt tonguing and sucking at your pink bud causing you to whine and squirm in her grasp. “Taste so good doll, can’t get enough” she spoke into your body sending waves of pleasure through your body. You grip the headboard with your left and the right reaching for her hair pushing her head forward into your body. You grinded on her face your sensitive bud colliding with the tip of her nose , the way they rubbed together resembled two knight’s sword fighting. Her tongue was like a serpent burring deep into its hole beneath the two soldiers. The feeling was intense you felt like you were going crazy eyes rolling back, cunt aching, body hot and sweaty, fingers trembling the knot in your stomach was growing you felt like you were about to explode.

That was until she stopped, making you whine and attempt to grind on her face more for some sort of release in tension. Smiling against your wet cunt she looked up at you “Beg for it.” She said, no, she stated it was a demand. Looking you in the eyes like some pathetic doll she could get whatever she wanted out of you. You stared right back mouth open sweat dripping off your chin onto the pillow. How could she do this to you, she gave one of your cheeks a hard smack echoing through the room. You yelped in response biting your lip with your eyes shut “How many fucking times do I have to tell you to speak up?”. She said angry smacking you again, she loved the way you reacted how helpless you look right now it’s a wonderful sight to her. “Or do you just love being treated like this huh, doll?” she bit your inner thigh leaving bite marks and hickeys “Please, min ... I wanna cum so bad...”. You said, helpless and defeated you had no other choice “Good girl...”. She whispered into your thigh focusing back on your wet cunt, devouring it like she once did before. The sensation was intense almost unbearable, you immediately stated grinding on her lips and tongue grabbing a handful of hair pushing her head further into you. She clawed at your ass and thighs, the mixture of pain and pleasure was too much for you with just a few more licks you came undone shaking clenching uncontrollably. That sweet relief felt heavily. Minjeong licked you all up taking in every last drop of you in her mouth. “Fuck you taste amazing for me doll. So wet and warm, I can’t get enough” and with that she throws you off her replacing each other’s positions. You now laying down beneath her legs on each side of her body as she kneeled in-between you.

You laid there both hands covering your face in embarrassment “You look so fucking good in that baby, I almost don’t wanna take it off ya”. She said eyeing down your hot body practically numb from the previous orgasms. She began stroking her still harden cock staring you in the face, she reached to move your hands away right above your head. She leaned down both your wrist in her hand, she reached your ear and spoke “Fuck baby, I wanna see how beautiful your body looks right now”. She said before kissing down your chin and neck, leaving bites and marks all over before stopping at your collarbone. “But that dress is so damn sexy to ruin” she continued her assault on your neck collarbone licking you after every bite. There’s still some fluff in her, just a little. She sat up releasing your wrist, they remained in that same position. She looked at you before smiling, taking her shirt off finally revealing her toned slim body to you. She threw it somewhere on the floor who cares where it went. Biting her lip she reached for her bra and pulled it over her head slowly swaging her body seductively. You could only stare legs holding her close to you putting a hand over your mouth to cover yourself. “I’ve got an idea” your girlfriend started “How bout I fuck you with it on, then I rip it off and fuck you without it. You like how that sound doll?” she lifted your legs onto her shoulders and watched you waiting for an answer, you nodded “Please…” was all you could muster up. Minjeong grinned “Please what baby doll?” she’s toying with you again, how you loved and hated when she did. You bit your lip looking away from her, you whined not wanting to embarrass yourself. She grabbed you by the chin making you face her “Tell me, tell me what you want doll. You wanna feel good, don’t you? So speak.” She looked at you with anticipation tilting her head to the side waiting on what sort of response you’ll give her now.

You couldn’t say anything, you wanted too but nothing came out you felt stuck you probably looked like an idiot just staring into nothing. “Ah nothing? That’s fine, maybe we should stop her then. No?” she said looking at you with a sly smirk her voice was so low and mellow when she spoke. She knew you didn’t want to stop, neither did she. “NO, please ..” you reached for her shoulder keeping her in-between you “I want it, I want you” You bit your lip debating on whether you should Say the next part or not. After a few seconds of silence you spoke “I want you to fuck me, please min, please fill me up. I want it I want it so bad.” You begged her frantically, desperate for something, anything. She smiled at you “You’re so pretty when you beg.” She chuckled reaching for her harden shaft slapping it against your clit earning a moan from you. She leaned down to your ear kissing it before making her way to attack your neck with love bites. You were a mess, a hot moaning mess.

She slowly entered her cock inside you inch by inch she took her time, her painfully slow time. Thus causing you to squirm under her wrapping your arms around her neck and she continued to leave hickeys all over you. Your girlfriend began her assault on your wet cunt at a fast pace her balls slapping against your ass, the sounds of wet skin colliding and the scent of sex and ecstasy in the air. You could only moan eyes shut almost screaming into your girlfriend’s ear. She fucked you rough and hard her movements where inhumane almost as if she wasn’t really the woman you once knew, she was fucking you like a monster. So intensely destroying your insides with her long cock. “Fuck doll, this pussys’ so fucking good. All mine too~” she spoke into your ear words shaky with the way she was pounding you. The sound of sloppy sex overwhelming you, you Barley understood her. Nails sinking into her back, neck and hips leaving scars and markings that’ll take days to heal. The pain causing Minjeong to groan and bite down on your neck, at this rate your neck was full of red pink and purple marks with spots of dips of teeth marks all over. “Ah fuck baby you feel so fucking good around me.” She leaned up and grabbed you by the waist ending her attack on your upper body. “You’re so pretty, so fucking pretty” she spoke as she pounded into you harder somehow managing to go deeper into you. Her tip kissing your cervix like a desperate lover “Fuck min, don’t stop please..” you begged biting your lip ad your body Bobbing up and down to her rhythm. “You like that doll? Huh, like the way my dick violates your insides don’t you?”. She fucked you faster her breathing becoming heavy and quick, she was close so so close. “I’m gonna fill you up so good yea? You wanted this. You wanted me to fuck you like this like the slut you are.” She bit her lip head hung beck as she pounded into you like a mad man “Fuck I love you so much you know that?” You nodded in response your grip on her body growing tighter and you could feel your climax approaching. “Look at me pretty girl, look at who’s worshiping this beautiful body of yours” she grabbed your chin making you face her eyes meeting for a split second before you both crashed into a long-heated kiss. “Min… baby I’m-im gonna cum fuck” You slightly pulled away from the kiss feeling your next orgasim approaching “Me too baby I’m gonna cum inside you, okay?” You nodded and with a few more pumps you both came together your back arching as she pushed deeper into you.

Panting and sweaty you both sit there for a while before your girlfriend spoke “Hate to see this pretty thing go so soon, hm? Ah, but I bet you’d look so much sexier with it torn apart huh doll”. You whined in response, taking this as an answer without wasting any more time she grabbed the fabric covering your stomach and ripped it apart all in one go. This caused you to moan covering you face with your hands as she “undressed” You. “So beautiful, just for me. Only me” she spoke under her breath admiring your physique, the way you ditch wear a bra underneath almost as if you wanted this to happen. Her hands trailing up and down your body feeling you up, she licked her lips at the site before her. “How much cum you think this pretty belly can hold doll?” she spoke tracing circles around your bellybutton. “I think you’d look so cute carrying my baby. Don’t you think so too” your girlfriend smiled at you with a shit eating grin. You stared back at her a red flush forming on your cheeks, this is so humiliating you thought. “I want to, so bad. I wanna fill you up with all my cum, watching your stomach grow bigger with each pump. I wanna breed you like a fucking whore.” She takes her gaze from your stomach and looks at you in the eyes, deeply. “Can i?” is all she says a glint of plea in her eyes, she’s desperate. You look at her up and down before letting a sheepish smile form on your face “I’m not stopping you am i?” you ask tilting you head a bit at her. With this she wasted no time ramming her somehow still hard cock into you this time shoving all full inches inside you without warning. Causing you to yelp in pain and pleasure, it was too much for you but who were you to say no to her?

“Fuck baby I love you” she said between each thrust, leaning down she held one of your breast in her hand playing with the ripple and the other in her mouth. “Fuck min!” you moaned out harms wrapping around her neck pulling her closer into your body. Her pace was fast and eager, her rhythm and patterns where all off without sync. She was fucking you like a deranged animal “I’m goona get you pregnant baby, full of me fuck I need it” You wrapped your legs around her torso pulling her deeper into you. “Please min, cum inside me fill me up please” you begged desperate just as she was. Moving your hip along with her at a ragged pace both desperate and needy. The sounds coming from you too were disgusting wet skin slapping against each other moans from different pitches it’s like you both lost your minds. Neither of you thinking straight only worried about cumming making the other feel good. Minjeing got up from your chest grabbing you by the shoulder with one hand the other reaching for yours placing it on your stomach. Feeling the way her cock bounced in and out of your tummy. “Feel that doll? That’s me getting you pregnant. Dumping my seed into you like a whore”. She left your hand on your stomach grabbing the headboard to balance her body as she thrusted in you like crazy. The bed creaking from her speedy movements the way your body moved and your boobs bounced to her sex was wonderful, sadly it had to come to an end at some point. “Baby I’m so close … don’t stop .. please” you whined out eyes close head thrown back your legs hugging her body tighter than ever. “Me too doll, you ready to carry my baby?” she muttered through her teeth as her speed grew faster chasing after her high. You nodded with a few small “please” and “yes” your grip on her tightened as you came undone on her shaft. Back arching biting your lip till it bled, your girlfriend pumped into you still letting all her sweet and salty semen let loose into you some spilling out.

She fell on top of you her now soft penis still inside you, you moaned a bit at her. “I’m so sleepy doll” she spoke into the crook of your neck, you looked down at her smiling before stroking her hair. “We can stay like this is you want” you whispered in her ear gaining a nod from her, chuckling at this you pull her closer into a snuggle. Limbs wrapped around each other, scared of letting go. You turned your head to look at the clock on your nightstand, it read 1:34 am. “Guess your gonna be in a bit of trouble tomorrow huh? Mingejong looked up at you before Turing her gaze to her still open computer screen. She only shrugged and went back into her spot kissing your neck before trailing off to sleep “I love you, so much” your girlfriend spoke before going completely silent.

“I love you too”

___________________________________________

Very rushed ending my apologies (I feel like I lost the plot halfway through tbh 😭)

Hope u liked tho more coming soon if u guys enjoyed ♡

#aespa smut #aespa #aespa winter #winter smut #aespa x fem #winter x fem reader #aespa x fem reader #winter aespa #kim minjeong #minjeong x reader #aespa minjeong #Spotify #praying this dosent flop or im deleting my account 💔

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mygnolia · 11 months ago

Text

CALCU-CRUSH! ♡ p. sunghoon

୨୧ SMAU! SYNOPSIS -› Yeah, Park Sunghoon might be just a little annoying- but hey! at least he can help you get an A in AP CALC, and he will never a crush on you to make things super weird and complicated, right?

୨୧ PAIR -› math tutor!sunghoon x chem nerd! y/n ft. jake and wonyoung

୨୧ GENRE -› highschool au | ୨୧ TROPE -› idiots to lovers

୨୧ INCLUDES -› idk man they're just idiots LOL

୨୧ REN SAYS... me when i don't want to write the written chapter for get better so i create a whole new smau because i finally have gotten around to doing smaus and text posts for enha also nae taught me how to add colors and i havent looked back ever since LOLL thank u user dioll !! alsoo the name is calculus but the lus is replaced with crush its not calc crush its calcucrush !!!!

୨୧ DONE!

PROFILES (powerpuff gals /// mathletes turned baddies)

01 ♡ bombed like the bathrooms

02 ♡ $300 on a kpop ticket

03 ♡ cognitive dissonance

04 ♡ holding hands in rugby stands

05 ♡ operation jacket around shoulders

06 ♡ WRONG JACKET ABORT MISSION

07 ♡ feelings? yea i still have touch

08 ♡ if you want to date her by 40

09 ♡ cured from stupidity sickness

10 ♡ he hits me (his girlfriend)

୨୧ PERM TAGLIST @dimplewonie send ask or dm to be added!

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theonlyonesora · 21 days ago

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The Third Rule

Lily x Oscar Piastri x You (Reader)

Synopsis. “They were a pair—until we became a triangle.”

Chapter 01 – Pocket Boyfriend

The sun hit just the right angle on campus that day, golden and soft, like it had been filtered through a summer memory. I had collapsed onto the grass beside our little group, my backpack flung somewhere behind me and the weight of my finance finals finally peeling off my chest. I was free. My brain was still buzzing with formulas and late-night study sessions, but the only math I wanted to think about now was how many drinks I could responsibly down at tonight’s party.

“I swear if I failed macroeconomics I’m transferring to a cult in the woods,” Meg said, sipping iced coffee like it was the blood of her enemies.

“I’m going full wine aunt this holiday. Just me, my dog, a playlist called ‘crying at brunch,’ and no contact with reality,” Jessy declared, lying flat on her back with her sunglasses sliding down her nose.

And then there was Lily—perfect posture, hair somehow unbothered by the wind, scribbling something in her planner like we weren’t already mentally clocked out for the semester.

Lily and I had met in the first month of college. She was studying engineering, which meant she said things like “thermodynamics” and “fluid mechanics” and actually understood them. I was the finance girl with chaotic energy and a too-big planner filled with dreams and half-baked budgeting tips I never followed. We clicked instantly. She was the responsible one, I was the one doing tequila shots in the dorm hallway on a Tuesday. We balanced each other like opposite ends of a seesaw—somehow always meeting in the middle.

And yet, for all our closeness, there was always one ghost in the room: Oscar. Her long-term boyfriend. Formula 1 driver. Constantly flying. Constantly in another timezone. I hadn’t met him yet, not properly. He was always just on the other end of a FaceTime or in the stories she told, but never quite real.

“You should meet him,” she’d say. “You two are weirdly alike. It’s actually kinda scary.”

But the meeting never came. He was in Monaco. Or Melbourne. Or training. Or sleeping. But he never once seemed to mind that Lily and I were basically joined at the hip. And truthfully, I liked that. I liked that he trusted her. Trusted us. Because I loved her. Not in that way—not really. At least, I didn’t think so. Until that one day on the grass.

Jessy’s voice broke through the sleepy lull of our post-finals haze.

“So (Y/N),” she asked with a wicked glint in her eyes, “have you done it?”

“Done what?” I blinked, half-dozing.

“Ménage à trois.”

“Excuse me—what? It’s noon,” I groaned, sitting up. “It is way too early for this kind of scandal.”

“Just answer,” she pressed.

I laughed, brushing a blade of grass off my jeans. “No, I haven’t. Never done it.”

Jessy raised an eyebrow. “Not even curious?”

Before I could open my mouth, Lily’s voice slid in, soft and casual. “Are you curious?”

I turned to her. “Are you?”

She shrugged, playful, but something flickered in her expression—quiet, electric. “I don’t know… I think it can’t just be with anyone. But wouldn’t it be strange to do it with strangers?”

There was a pause. An almost imperceptible shift in the air. The kind of silence where a thousand things go unsaid but somehow still felt.

“I did it with a cousin once,” Jessy said, so casually she might as well have been talking about borrowing sugar.

“Oh my God,” Meg choked, nearly spitting her coffee.

“What?” Jessy blinked, genuinely confused.

“It’s family!” I said, horrified but laughing.

“It was high school!”

“Still!” I replied, shaking my head, half-disgusted, half-intrigued, and fully spiraling into the kind of laughter that makes your ribs ache.

Lily was laughing too, but something in her gaze lingered. She looked at me for a moment longer than usual, head tilted slightly, like she was filing something away in the corner of her mind for later. Like she was imagining something.

And I should have known then. I should have felt it—that thread pulling tighter, twisting quietly around us, waiting for the perfect night to snap.

Lily’s room smelled like coconut body lotion, hot flat iron, and vanilla perfume—basically the scent of girls getting ready to destroy lives

“You realize we’re just going to a bar, right?” I said, grinning. “Not the Oscars.”

“You can’t call it a ‘just a bar’ when it’s finals week and the entire city is out celebrating,” she replied, adjusting a gold hoop. “Besides, it’s been forever since we all went out.”

“We went out last week.”

“I said all

I rolled my eyes and stepped further into the bathroom, stealing a pump of her lotion while she was distracted. We'd been living together for four months now in a spacious apartment two blocks from campus—big enough for sleepovers in each other's rooms, dance parties in the living room, and nights spent sharing pizza and soft secrets. It was easy with Lily. Always had been.

And just as she picked up her phone to check the time, it started buzzing. Oscar.

“Speak of the devil and he FaceTimes,” I muttered, smirking.

Lily answered, holding the phone up to her face. Her voice instantly softened. “Hey, babe.”

I backed up a little to give them space but hovered just enough to be nosy.

“Are you with (Y/N)?” Oscar asked through the speaker.

I leaned into the frame dramatically, still in my towel. “Hello, pocket boyfriend.”

Oscar chuckled. “Hello, trouble.”

“Are you still calling him that?” Lily asked, amused but mock-exasperated.

“What? He’s always in your pocket! I’ve never seen him outside of a phone screen. Honestly, I’m starting to believe he’s AI.”

“Deeply hurt,” Oscar said with a hand to his chest. “You wound me.”

“But you're so polite about it,” I teased. “That’s what makes it worse.”

Our dynamic was weirdly natural for two people who’d never met in person. Friendly banter. Inside jokes. I’d always respected the space he and Lily shared, but I’d also never shied away from being me

“You two going out tonight?” he asked, brushing a lock of damp hair off his forehead.

Lily nodded, tilting the phone to show her outfit. “Yeah. The girls and I. Just bar hopping. (Y/N) made us promise we wouldn’t end up doing karaoke again.”

“That was one time!” I shouted from the bathroom.

Oscar grinned. “Just make sure she drinks water this time.”

“I always

Lily laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her.”

Oscar’s eyes softened at that. “You always do.”

There was a little pause then. Just a second too long. Like the sentence sat there between us, warm and humming with something neither of us fully named. Because yeah—she always did. And sometimes, I worried I let her.

“I gotta get dressed,” I said, suddenly aware of the towel slipping a little too far down my chest. “Nice seeing you, Oscar.”

“Soon, I hope,” he replied. “In real life. Not just FaceTime.”

Lily smiled, eyes flicking between the two of us. “Maybe we’ll finally make it happen this summer.”

“Careful,” I said with a wink. “I might actually steal him.”

“She’d probably let you,” Oscar joked.

And Lily?

But she didn’t say no.

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esotericbluntbaby · 4 months ago

Note

request! i read in your post you wanted angst requests, and i loveee the trope of him being a jealous roommate, and seeing you with another guy, leading to an argument about it. honestly, do whatever you feel right, i believe your writing style is so unique you couldn’t mess it up.

untitled

hamzahthefantastic x reader

description: a night of studying obviously entails stressful situations: not knowing the answers to your problems, sleep deprivation, and cramming, to say the least. however, another problem arises when you decide to hold a small study session with a boy from your class: a roommate who hates your study partner.

mentions: angst, jealousy, argument, she/her pronouns, angsty love confession, happy ending, making out, mostly sfw!

thank u to whoever sent the request. small comments and compliments really keep me going <33

you were sleep deprived, to say the least.

violet bags formed droops underneath your eyes, followed by the weighted heaviness your eyelids held with each blink threatening to be longer and longer each time. your back was almost curled into a "c," slumped onto your desk as your head was held in your left hand, pencil being grazed upon paper in your right. exhaustion devoured the whole point of the study session: to hold as much material in your brain as you could about the material for your final exam in two days.

you started off strong at around 5:00 in the afternoon. the material was able to be grasped and understood as if it was truly a part of you that was forgotten and remembered. however, the longer the you stared at the numbers and symbols on your notebook, the more your brain turned as mushy as a rotten apple. one redbull turned into three cans, in addition to a shot of espresso taken at around 12:00 in the morning, as you delved deeper into the madness of the units you learned in math.

now, you originally were going to do this completely on your own. you've done it before; actually, you've done it so many times that it's almost expected of you to procrastinate until the last minute to study and review, no matter how many times it ends with regret, twenty pages of notes, and sleep deprivation. however, after posting about how much you've been struggling with a certain subset of problems given in the study guide, logan, a boy from the same math class as you, texted.

he told you he could help you if he needed: that he could come over and assist you with your studying, since he understood the material quite well. you believed him, since you sat next to him constantly. each time papers and tests were being handed back to you, your eyes lingered and glanced at his paper, an A+ written in slanted cursive each time at the top of his paper. though you've studied by yourself many times and each time got a knowledgable, thoughtful grade, you began to lose hope in yourself. so, logan showed up at your doorstep at around 1:00 in the morning.

you both crammed and retained as many formulas, problems, and tactics as you could as the sun began to rise slowly and steadily, showing and revealing itself to the residents living in the northern hemisphere. by the time the sun was fully up, around 7:30 in the morning, you told him that you could take it from here and that he was free to leave now.

as you walked him out, your roommate sat on the brown, leather couch of your shared apartment, binge watching some random show he found on the netflix account you both had access to. this wasn't an unusual sight; hamzah streamed quite often, most of the time resulting in all-nighters or a scattered sleep schedule. however, the sight in front of him was the unusual one: who the fuck is that blonde haired boy who was in your room, leaving at 7:42 in the morning? his eyes widened at the thought of another man stayed in the same room as you for the entire night. that was practically his room; hamzah had clothes in there, as well as his monkey plush that the both of you got together. another man was practically in his space and he did not take it lightly.

"bye logan. thanks for all the help last night. i really appreciate it," you thanked, genuinely grateful that he was able to help you with your studies.

he smiled a toothy grin, "yeah, anytime! just call me whenever you need me. i'll be there."

his backpack, full of textbooks and notebooks from the night, was the last thing hamzah saw before the door was shut and his roommate's body was turned towards him. he noticed how rough you looked; eyes half-shut and lidded with an intense look of sleepiness laced into your gaze, as well as a yawn coming from out of your mouth before you began to converse with him.

he smiled at you, momentarily forgetting the fact that you just walked a boy out of your apartment, "morning, pretty."

you and hamzah's relationship was weird; you weren't really dating, yet, you weren't really only friends either. there was an certain unspoken tension between the two of you; a tension that kept you connected with string, yet couldn't be cut even if you had the sharpest pair of scissors available. you enjoyed his presence, he enjoyed yours. however, you both also didn't want to ruin what you already had, so it was a simple understanding of each other that never got to be turned into spoken word.

"morning, hamzah. did you sleep at all?" you asked him.

he turned down the volume of the show in front of him with the remote, "huh? oh, nah. i was streaming 'til like, 6, or something. who's he?"

you looked around the room for another body besides yours and the boy in front of you, "who's who?"

"the guy you just walked out of the apartment," his voice had a slight essence of an attitude in it, "the one that looks like fuckin butters from south park."

you laughed, taking a seat next to him and resting your head on his shoulder , "that's logan. he was just helping me out with something last night."

"how long was he here?"

"he came here around, like, 1 in the morning. why?"

"'nothin," he said, turning the volume back up.

logan became a regular guest at the house, oddly showing up mostly at weird hours of the morning. most of the time, it was you answering the knock on your wooden front door, greeting him and going to your room to study some more. on the contrary, the times where hamzah was conveniently in the living room watching a show or editing a video and the door knocked, he became slightly hostile. each time, no matter where or what you were doing, he wouldn't answer the door. the first couple times, you didn't realize it; you thought that possibly hamzah could've not heard the knock because of how loud he watches his shows. however, you soon realized that he simply just wouldn't get up. you shrugged it off, letting him in after he texted you that he was outside the door.

currently, your exams are on pause for the break that you were given from school. your sleep schedule was in ruins, either sleeping at 6 in the morning or 5 in the afternoon. you noticed that throughout the break, hamzah was distant, only occasionally asking you if you wanted some food that he was cooking or if the wifi was out. you missed him. you didn't know what was wrong, nor what was happening. his short responses and leaving the room whenever you entered was confusing you. a week ago, you two were cuddling on the couch and he was forcing you to watch horror movies with him. now, he leaves the room whenever any part of your body touches the wooden floor of your living room. at 12:00 in the morning, you decided that enough was enough.

you knocked onto his bedroom door, before letting yourself in. his eyes remained locked onto the screen in front of him, not caring to recognize that you were now in his room. he seemed standoffish; he seemed cold. it was like the man that was once radiating a certain warmth from within himself was extinguished and watered down. it worried you, really. you wanted him back, though he wasn't yours.

"are you streaming?" you asked him.

his eyes remained stagnant and his voice spoke to you in the same monotonous tone, "no."

"do you wanna go do something?"

"like?"

you sat on his bed next to him, "i dunno. anything."

"can't. busy."

you were tired, however, not tired in a way that can be fixed with sleep. in fact, you didn't know how this could be fixed. though the connection you two had was never truly spoken about and simply understood through actions and gestures, you finally decided to speak about it.

"hamzah."

"what?"

"what's wrong? did something happen?"

he finally made eye contact with you, "nothing's wrong, nothing happened."

"you've been so distant, something's wrong. y'know you can talk to me about anything, right-"

he swiveled his chair towards you, frustration painted as a mural onto his face, "jesus fucking christ, dude. just because i don't wanna go out- it doesn't mean anything."

you were taken aback, "it's not even just today. it's this whole week. did i do something wrong?"

"if you wanna go out so bad, why don't you go ask logan?"

a switch suddenly flipped into your head; hamzah was jealous. putting yourself in his shoes, you understood why he was; not only was he jealous, but he was rightfully so. you didn't realize that your nights were now always spent studying and memorizing instead of spending time with him.

"why would i go ask logan?"

hamzah scoffs, "why wouldn't you go ask him? he's over almost every fucking time i try to go ask you if you wanna go get food or go watch a movie. you might as well date the kid if you're gonna be sleeping with him every night while dragging me along."

"hamzah-"

his eye contact remained intense, "no, i'm not done. fuck, i thought we had something. i thought those nights on the couch where we'd just sit and talk and watch random shit and make fun of random shit meant something. i liked you. i liked you so fucking much. and then logan comes around and just steals you. what does he have that i don't?"

"hamzah-"

"i'm still not done. i would've loved to be with you and do corny couple shit with you if you weren't with him. shit, i feel fucking stupid because i still would love to be with you and it's so, so obvious you don't feel the same way. do you know how much it hurts to hear you two at night? our rooms are next to each other, do you realize i can hear you guys laughing? then, when it's quiet, i just think about how you guys could be sleeping together and cuddling just like how we did. this kid- he came out of fucking nowhere. and now suddenly, i'm just fucking alone and you just fucking left me. it's like your fingers are intertwined in my brain and just fucking with every single fold. why did you do that? why would you do that-"

impulse struck your brain like lightning on the highest mountain peak. hamzah wouldn't shut up. yet, he's never really shut up a day in his life. so, you did the obvious. you grabbed his cheeks, forcefully making his face directly in front of yours. your lips landed on his, a kiss of desperation and risky acts.

you pulled away, not realizing what you were doing until after it happened. you both looked at each other wide-eyed and shocked, almost as if a total stranger kissed both of you.

"fuck- i'm sorry- i don't know why i did that-"

he grabbed your face with both of his hands, cupping your cheeks in each one. his lips, once again, settled on yours. this kiss was different; the way you kissed him was spontaneous and filled with uncertainty. his, on the other hand, was rough and needed. you never realized how truly needy hamzah was until the moment where he pulled you onto his lap, straddling his lap. his hands made its way up and down your body. his tongue, tasting like the mint gum he was chewing before you came into his room, entered your mouth as if it lived there previously. you both were upset at each other, however, with every moment where your lips were touching, it was like you completely forgot why you both were tense. you attempted to pull away; you remembered that you still needed to explain everything. however, you watched as his lips grew magnetic to yours, attempting to chase after your mouth like he would die from even a split second apart.

"hamzah. i don't like logan."

his eyes turned soft compared to the gaze he gave you beforehand, "did you sleep with him?"

"no, baby, i didn't."

his heart melted at you calling him baby. you could see it in his eyes and the yearning expression he gave you.

"what were you guys doing at, like, 3 in the morning?"

"i've been struggling with math. i don't really know anyone else that's good at it, either. so when he offered to help me study, i took him up on it. it's at weird hours because he has work."

guilt began to eat hamzah up. he realized he had just scolded you for something that his brain made him believe, as well as the fact that he could have simply talked to you about it.

"i'm sorry. i'm actually so sorry- i don't know why i didn't just ask you. i just assumed that he was like, i don't know, a sneaky link or something."

you kissed him on the cheek, lovingly, "it's okay. i should've told you that he was just helping me study. i'm sorry, too."

you stayed there for a solid hour, with you still straddling his waist in his gaming chair with your legs. it wasn't sexual at all; in fact, it was the opposite. your arms wrapped around his neck as his arms wrapped around your back. your face held shelter in the area between his neck and his shoulder, finding solitude within the boy in front of you. it was silent, until hamzah decided to break the quietude filling the room.

"do you still wanna go out?"

you removed your face from his neck to look at him, "hamzah, it's one in the morning."

"so? i thought you wanted to go somewhere- get out of this apartment."

you gave him a peck on the lips, "no. i just wanted an excuse to be with you."

authors note!

okay i dont rly like how this turned out but i'll post it anyways. i might update it n add some more detail into it later on. have a good rest of ur day/night! i will eventually get to all the requests i get, but please be patient since i do have school outside of this <3

#hamzah fic #hamzah imagines #hamzah x reader #hamzahthefantastic #slushy noobz #hamzah fluff #hamzahthefanatasticxreader #hamzah x y/n

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jifloulette · 4 months ago

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reo brainrot is plaguing my mind so here's some short bf hcs !!!!!

note ; oh my god this was rotting in my drafts since NOVEMBER. finally got the energy to finish the last one my gosh..

bf reo mikage whose mood completely depends on yours !

his classmates find it silly how you could be sitting on your chair feeling down because of a low test score you got and reo would be there beside you, seemingly sad too, but because of what?? he got an A+ on the same test after all..? his family finds it relieving to see reo smiling beamingly whenever you're smiling, you wouldn't even be smiling directly at him yet he'd still look gleeful! his teammates find it weird how reo could be mad at them, yelling and yelling, shouting and shouting, reminding them to play properly and get their act together and then you come in unannounced with a box of cookies and that same smile reo adores, suddenly his eyes light up and he's squealing when you come closer to him as if he just didn't swear the living shit out of his teammates. if reo could do cartwheels and frontflips, he would've done those on the way to you because he is just so madly in love with youuuuu!!!!

bf reo mikage who absolutely loves hearing go on and on and on about your day !

he especially loves it more when you're spilling tea about people from your class. i mean yeah he knows it's bad but he can't help it? the way you're so focused on telling him an almost 3 minute gossip about this one girl in your history class is all he needs to just lay there on bed with you as he caresses your hair. those moments seldom happen, it usually has you having him lay on your chest while you talk about the funny incident at math class where your teacher forgot about the quiz that was supposed to be taken today and how you got 2 drinks from the vending machine instead of one because you had stumbled over air and hit the machine harshly which caused another drink to fall down. oh and he sees your eyes glimmer up and how you almost always run out of breath because you just have so much to tell him! even if he's always clinging to you either by interlocking arms or grabbing your waist, you'll always have some stories to ramble that even he doesn't know off!

bf reo mikage who impulsively buys anything he sees in stores that remind you of him !

it's a bad habit of his but is it really that bad when he gets to feel you embrace him when he shows you the new matching keychains he bought the two of you? though you tend to scold him for spoiling you rotten, nothing will ever stop him from buying you gifts and trinkets because that's his love language! passing by popmart and sees the mofusand hippers? automatically buys FIVE because he thought they looked like you whenever you were zoning out which is a telltale sign that you badly needed reo to give you a piggyback ride home, not that he minded it though. he's scrolling through facebook and an ad for a jacket pops up? he's already buying two versions, one for you and one for him so that you guys can match! reo def gets offended when you ask him how much they cost and that you'll pay him back because he is your BOYFRIENDDD, he will buy those gifts with NO intention of getting something back.

bf reo mikage who lets you do all sorts of hairstyles on him !

he will also proudly show it off when you guys are at school too, he could care less about what other people think because why would he? his s/o did that hairstyle for him so why should he be ashamed? you would see a cute hairstyle post whilst scrolling through Tiktok and wanted to try it out, but before doing it on you, what better way to see if it was cute by trying it out on your boyfriend? reo wouldn't even try to say no because he wouldn't mind it at all, plus it was a good way to spend time with you. you would let him hold your phone as you try to follow the steps in the video as quickly yet properly as you can. after a few mistakes and redos, you had finished the look and dare you say, it may fit him better than you.. reo looked really good even though the hairstyle was a bit on the feminine side. he'd keep it on for the entire day, not caring or doing anything when the teachers tell him to take it off (rich boy privileges LMAO) oh and later on, you'd also put pins and hairclips on him too! the ones that matched his hair and eyes! this would also be a frequent sleepover activity the two of you do, reo would set up a space in his room dedicated to THIS specific thing!!!

©🇯🇮🇫🇱🇴🇺🇱🇪🇹🇹🇪, do not steal, translate, or repost any of my writings anywhere else. ౨ৎ

#see you guys when my writers block is gone again #which may be next month LMAO #i love reo bye #reo #reo mikage #reo x reader #blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #jinxed it up ! 𓆩♡𓆪 #blue lock x male reader #bllk x male reader #bllk fluff

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fruitjoos · 7 months ago

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serving up suds!

parings: patrick zweig x fem!reader / art donaldson x tashi duncan

word count: 3.9k

summary: you and the rest of the girls on the tennis team need to figure out a way to earn money for new uniforms. your boyfriend suggests the best idea.

contains: SMUT 18+ with lots of cute boyfriend patrick plot, fluff, only contains art and tashi as side characters (sorry), suggestive language between art and tashi, oral (m receiving), inaccurate numbers probs, if you think anything else should be added, please let me know!

note: wrote this simply because i love and miss pookie patrick zweig so enjoy… i planned to post i choose you but wanted to post this instead! also, not edited – will be doing so shortly.

You stood in front of Coach Williams, arms crossed and brows furrowed, your frustration barely masked. “We don’t even have proper uniforms,” you said, voice tight. “They just told us to wear red tank tops and the shortest white shorts we could find. It’s ridiculous. No one takes us seriously.”

It had been a minor irritation at first, something you could almost shrug off as a small injustice. But when you found out that the boys' team, including your boyfriend Patrick, had crisp, matching uniforms—with collars and the school logo stitched on the chest—your irritation curdled into anger. They looked like a team. They looked respectable. And you? You and the other five girls on the team looked like a mismatched afterthought.

A few of you had approached Coach Williams, hoping she’d understand, hoping she’d do something. You told her how embarrassing it was to stand on the court, mismatched and disheveled, while the boys walked by in their pristine gear. She’d just sighed and said the school didn’t have the funds. “Those boys raised the money themselves,” she added, almost proud. “If you girls want uniforms that badly, you’ll have to do the same.”

You groaned. Right, like it was that simple. You had done the math in your head—the cost would be at least a thousand dollars to get anything decent, something that would make you all look polished and cohesive. You wanted sharp collars, the school name embroidered in neat white stitching over your hearts, maybe even matching skirts. But there were only six of you, and $200 each was a lot to ask from college girls already juggling tuition, textbooks, meals, and a list of other expenses that never seemed to end.

The thought gnawed at you for days, and finally, you did something you never would’ve considered before. You went to Patrick. The two of you were sprawled out on the campus quad, the grass prickling your skin, the sun warm on your back. Patrick was fiddling with a Rubik's Cube he’d picked up from god knows where, twisting it clumsily, his focus entirely absorbed. You were trying to study, your math textbook open in front of you, but the thought of those damn uniforms kept distracting you. You sighed, louder than usual, trying to get his attention. He didn’t look up.

Another sigh, this one practically a groan. Patrick smirked, eyes still fixed on the colored squares in his hands. “Something on your mind?” he asked, voice teasing, as if he was enjoying your distress.

“Actually, yeah,” you said, sitting up and crossing your legs. “The girls’ tennis team needs uniforms.” He finally glanced up, confusion flickering in his eyes. “And I was wondering…” you trailed off, giving him a mischievous grin before reaching out to tickle his side. He jerked away, laughing, and caught your wrist. “...if you could, you know, maybe donate a little to help out.”

“You’re cute,” he said, kissing your cheek. “But I’m broke. Spent my allowance for the month already.”

Your head slumped against his chest, and you whined, letting the sound drag out, like a child who didn’t want to go to bed. “C’mon, Patrick. We need this.”

He chuckled, but you could sense his patience thinning. “Why don’t you do a fundraiser or something?” he suggested. “I don’t know, a bake sale?”

It was a simple idea, but it sparked something. You sat up straight, eyes bright with sudden inspiration. “A car wash!” you said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “We could do a car wash! Who wouldn’t want to donate to a group of girls in bikinis?”

Patrick’s smile faded. “Wait, I meant like selling cookies or something, not—”

But you were already on your feet, packing your things, a plan forming in your mind. Oh you’ll be selling cookies all right. “Thanks, babe! I’ll call you later,” you said, barely looking back as you headed off to find the other girls.

Patrick’s voice trailed after you, a mix of amusement and resignation. “Great. This is going to end well, I’m sure.” But you didn’t care. For the first time in days, you felt a thrill of hope. If it took a little shamelessness to raise the money, so be it. At least the girls’ team would finally have the chance to be seen.

You stood outside Art Donaldson’s dorm room, tapping your foot impatiently, half-wishing you didn’t have to do this. You were almost certain Tashi was hooking up with him. Everyone on the courts could sense the weird tension between them, the way they eyed each other during practice. It wasn’t admiration for his technique, that was for sure. Art was talented, sure, but he played like a baby deer—deft, but awkwardly loose, stumbling into his own brilliance.

Your knuckles rapped softly against the door, and when it finally creaked open, you caught sight of Art’s glassy eyes and his half-buttoned shirt. You had to stifle a laugh. He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, and not because he was taking a nap. “Uh, is Tashi around?” you asked, already guessing the answer. Art glanced over his shoulder, almost as if he was checking to see if she was still there.

“Yeah, but she’s busy,” he said, with a casual shrug that didn’t quite hide his irritation.

“I’m sure,” you replied, tilting your head with a knowing grin. You leaned past him, raising your voice. “Tashi, come out here! I’ve got an idea!” Art winced, his expression morphing into a tight-lipped smile, the kind you give when someone’s overstaying their welcome. “She’ll be out in a minute,” he muttered, stepping back to let you linger in the doorway.

You could hear the faint sounds of shuffling before Tashi appeared, her hair tousled and her expression caught somewhere between glee and annoyance. “What are you doing here?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

“Patrick gave me the best idea,” you said, ignoring the way she rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. She didn’t even try to hide her skepticism—those words didn’t belong in the same sentence, and she knew it.

“No, really,” you insisted, giving her a playful shove. “We should do a fundraiser!”

Tashi’s face softened slightly, but her arms remained crossed, a single brow arching. “A fundraiser?”

“Yes! Think about it—tight bikinis, soapy cars, a bunch of frat boys with too much cash to spare. We’d make bank!” You bounced on your toes, grinning—your excitement spilling out uncontrollably.

She scoffed, but you caught the flicker of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Maybe she was amused, or maybe it was just the sheer absurdity of the situation. “I’m not selling my body to a bunch of frat boys,” she said, shaking her head firmly.

“You’re literally in there with Art Donaldson,” you shot back, your shoulders slumping with exasperation.

Tashi’s eyes narrowed, and she folded her arms, leaning against the doorframe. “So, what’s that supposed to mean?”

You let out an awkward laugh, waving your hands. “Oh, nothing. Just making an observation.” You could see her jaw tense, but you pressed on, undeterred. “Anyway, I’m telling the other girls. We’re doing this, with or without you.” You winked, trying to keep things light, but Tashi’s expression was unreadable as she watched you turn and leave.

A week later, you found yourself in your dorm room, sorting through an array of colorful bikini tops. The whole plan felt like a gamble, but you were determined to make it work. You wanted it to be fun, at least, if you were going to be out there scrubbing cars for spare change. Patrick was sprawled on the edge of your bed, watching with a bemused expression. “You’re seriously going through with this?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

“You suggested it!” you argued, as you adjusted the lettering on a handmade sign with your glitter gel pens.

“I suggested you bake cookies and sell them on campus,” he corrected, waving his hand as if to swat away the absurdity of your plan. “This is not what I meant.”

“We’re just washing cars,” you said, shaking your head as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And besides, it’s for a good cause.” You added a few more swirls and hearts to the sign, mockingly repeating his earlier words in a high-pitched voice before tossing a pink towel at him.

Patrick caught the towel and laughed, shaking his head. “You’re something else.”

Grabbing your keys and the finished signs, you turned to him, flashing a grin. “Walk me over there,” you said, already halfway out the door.

He groaned, dragging himself to his feet. “I better get a free car wash out of this,” he muttered, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. The two of you headed down the hall, and as you passed by, you could almost imagine the scene—the sun beating down, water glistening, and a line of cars full of guys willing to fork over their cash just to see a group of girls make a splash. Maybe it was shameless, but you were desperate, and desperate times called for bold, glittery, bikini-clad measures.

The sun was barely up, but the day was already heating up as you and a few of the girls set up the buckets of sudsy water, sponges bobbing in the foam, and wrangled with the nearest hose. Patrick stood nearby, scanning the growing crowd like a bouncer at a club, his eyes narrowing at any guy who dared stare a little too long when you bent over to dip your sponge. He was protective like that, and maybe just a bit possessive, but you couldn’t deny it felt good having someone in your corner, even if he looked ready to body check anyone who ogled you.

You were just about to yell something smart at him when Tashi strolled up, the sound of her flip-flops soft on the concrete, and every head turned as she made her entrance. She was all long, tanned legs, glistening in the sunlight, a tiny bikini peeking out from under her daisy dukes, and she moved with a sort of effortless grace that made you want to both envy and applaud her. You let out a sharp whistle, catcalling her as she approached, unable to resist. She rolled her eyes.

“Careful, those eyes are gonna get stuck back there one day,” you said with a small smile on your lips, and you could tell she was enjoying the attention.

“You look so hot!” you squealed, bouncing on your toes. Tashi flicked her hair over her shoulder, pretending to be exasperated, but she knew she was killing it, and so did everyone else.

Hours passed, the sun climbing higher, scorching the asphalt, and the music thumped from the speakers you’d set up, loud enough to echo down the block. You and the girls took turns yelling at passersby, daring them to get their cars washed, and you couldn’t believe how fast the line grew. It felt like every guy within a five mile radius had suddenly remembered he needed a wash, and they queued up, engines idling, windows down, some leaning out just to get a better look.

Your bodies were practically spilling out of your clothes, skin glistening, slick with soap and sweat. You pressed up against car windows, sponges swirling over the glass, your laughter and chatter floating above the music. “Thank you!” you sang out, flashing bright smiles as you took crumpled bills from hands reaching out of car windows, a parade of faces you didn’t even recognize. You skipped over to where Patrick was standing, collecting the money, and tossed the latest stack of bills into the box he was holding.

The pink, glittery box which you wrote ‘Stick something in me!’ on. It was heavier than you’d expected; you were actually making bank.

Before you could turn back to the cars, Patrick caught your wrist and pulled you close, his hand warm and firm. He cupped your cheeks between his fingers, smushing them slightly, and before you could even register the movement, he kissed you hard, right there in front of everyone. It wasn’t gentle, wasn’t soft. It was a claim, a brand, like he was marking his territory for all to see.

“You’re mine,” he said, his voice low, but loud enough for everyone nearby to hear, a hint of a challenge in his eyes. He wanted to remind you.

You blushed, caught off guard, but then a grin spread across your face. “I’m yours,” you repeated, just as firmly, before pulling him down and planting another kiss on his lips, making sure the message was clear. As you pulled back, you saw a few guys in line avert their eyes, and you laughed to yourself, a mix of pride and relief swelling in your chest. You had Patrick, you had the girls, and if things kept going this well, you’d have those uniforms too.

"Six-fifty… seven-fifty," Patrick counted, his voice low and steady, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in soft pinks and purples. You were sprawled out across the lawn, grass tickling your bare arms, and you watched him with a warm, tired smile, the kind of smile you give when everything feels just right for once. It had been a long, sweaty day, but now the breeze was gentle, like a cool kiss against your skin, and you felt almost weightless. Your body thrumming with a sense of accomplishment.

“Okay, that’s great!” you said, grabbing his arm, a burst of giddy excitement surging through you. Around you, the girls broke into their own cheers, hugging and high-fiving each other, still buzzing from the success of the day.

“And $100 from me,” Patrick said, pulling out a crisp bill from his wallet and tossing it into the box with a casual flick. The girls swarmed him, shaking his shoulders and showering him with thank-yous, calling him sweet, generous, the best. Even Tashi, who’d been leaning coolly against Art, broke into a grin, and she nudged him with her elbow. Art, who’d been half-pretending not to care, rolled his eyes but couldn’t resist. With a reluctant sigh, he parted with another $100, mumbling under his breath as he handed it over.

“Fine,” he said, almost as if the word hurt, but he was grinning a little, too, when the girls shrieked and patted his back. Rich people, you thought, shaking your head with a smirk. They always made it seem like giving was a struggle when it barely scratched the surface of their wallets.

You took a breath, pushing yourself up to your feet and looking at the small circle of girls around you, their faces flushed and glowing under the dimming sky. "I just want to say… thank you," you started, your voice slightly hoarse from yelling all day but still earnest. "I know this wasn’t exactly easy, but we did it. And I’m really proud." You reached into your own wallet, pulling out a $50 bill, twirling it between your fingers, and held it up like a trophy. “Here’s to us. And new uniforms!”

The girls erupted, their cheers echoing across the lawn, loud and jubilant, as if they’d just won a championship. For a moment, it felt like they had. The line between a football team scoring a last minute touchdown and a group of college girls hustling for their dignity had blurred, and you all basked in the glow of it, even as the day faded into night.

Later, you stumbled back to your dorm, too exhausted to think but too exhilarated to sleep. You flopped down on your bed, sinking into the mattress, letting out a long, satisfied sigh. You barely had time to close your eyes before Patrick followed, landing on top of you with a playful thud, his chin digging uncomfortably into your stomach.

“Ow,” you laughed, swatting at his head as he tried to adjust, mumbling an absent apology. He shifted, then propped himself up, and you cradled his face in your hands, tilting it up so you could look into his eyes. They were the soft blue of summer berries, glinting with mischief and tenderness, and you felt a sudden rush of affection that made your chest ache a little.

“I have the best boyfriend in the world,” you said, the words coming out soft, almost like a secret you were finally ready to admit. Patrick’s cheeks flushed a faint pink, something he did so rarely it was almost a treat to see. He gave you a shy, crooked smile, and you could tell he was savoring the moment, letting it hang in the air between you.

Then he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours, slow and careful, his mouth tasting faintly of your pomegranate chapstick. It was gentle at first, then firmer, like he was memorizing every bit of sweetness. When he pulled back, his eyes were still half-lidded, and his lips curved into a teasing smile.

“So, what’s the reward for being the best boyfriend?” he murmured, his gaze flicking over your face, taking in every detail as if he hadn’t already committed them to memory. His eyelashes fluttered, casting a silhouette across his cheeks, and you felt a shiver of warmth spread through you.

His reward for enduring the humid, sticky air all day, the sun beating down relentlessly on his already sunkissed skin, was right here, pressed against him. He had been patient, sitting there with the box of crumpled bills, sweat glistening on his forehead, eyes darting protectively every time someone lingered a little too long on you. He deserved something for putting up with the heat, the endless chatter, and the occasional, awkward guy who looked like he wanted to challenge him just for standing there. And this was it. You, warm and pliant under his hands, your fingers tangled in his hair, lips brushing his, teasing, like you were savoring every second as much as he was.

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head in mock contemplation. “Hmm, I guess I’ll have to think of something…” you said, running your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer until your noses touched. “Maybe a little more of this,” you whispered, your lips brushing his as you spoke, letting the promise linger in the space.

You rolled over, his back sinking into the worn mattress. You let your lips graze his jaw, then drifted down to his neck. He shifted under your touch, laughter mingling with a nervous squirm as your breath tickled his skin. “You’re so good to me,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his earlobe. “So supportive,” another kiss at his temple. “And so, so handsome.” A faint smile broke across his face, eyes closed, lost in the moment.

You let your fingers glide over the cool, metallic buttons of his shorts, tracing each engraved design as if it were spelling out something only you knew. You helped him pull them off, giggling as you threw them across the room. Your hand dipped into the dark mouth of his boxers, rummaging past his trimmed bush of curls, until your fingers closed around the smooth, familiar shape.

His hard cock slid out, catching the light above, precum gleaming, almost tauntingly. You held it up to your mouth, breathing in the faint trace of scent that lingered, delicate but intoxicating.

You stared at it for a moment, feeling a slow, subtle warmth unfurl in your chest. It was a tiny, almost imperceptible smile that tugged at your lips, like the beginning of a secret, and you could feel the tension building under your skin, pooling low in your stomach. Something about holding it in your hand made you feel powerful, like you were in control.

The head was your favorite color—deep, cherry red and glistening like a polished gem when you pulled back his foreskin slowly. You slid it between your lips, supple and sweet. Your tongue circled over his tip, feeling the tiny slit. His sap dissolving against your taste buds. You closed your eyes, savoring the taste.

His arousal melted on your tongue, sweet and syrupy. A thin string of saliva stretched between your lips and the tip when you pulled it away, snapping when you moved it too far. It was deliciously wrong, like sneaking a piece of forbidden fruit.

"You’re so sweet," you murmured, almost to yourself, but loud enough for Patrick to hear. He glanced up, his expression lustful and high.

“Wanna taste it?” you asked, slightly lolling your head to the side. The way you said it was innocent, almost playful, but there was a glint in your eyes, a subtle edge to the offer. You leaned up to him, grazing your tongue over his lips. He moaned at the contact. You grabbed his jaw, letting the glob mixed of your saliva and himself fall onto the heart of his tongue. He groaned, letting it slide down his throat. “I love you.” he whimpered, sloppily inhaling your lips.

You furrowed your brows, mocking the desperate look in his eyes. You watched him, a slow smile curling on your lips. You hadn’t realized how much you’d loved being in control. It reminded you that, for once, you weren’t following the rules, and that felt more delicious than anything you’d tasted in a long, long time.

You pumped your hand up and down his shaft, practically begging him to release all over your pretty face. “You wanna come for me?” you asked with a sweet, honey tone. “I’m so close,” he panted, fingers tangling between your strands of hair. “Fu– please,” he cried, mouth gaping open while hips desperately bucked toward you.

Taking him in your mouth again, you slapped his stiff cock against your tongue, the familiar sensation flooding your mouth as saliva pooled in your cheeks. His fluids mixed with spit, oozing down your lips and pooling on your chin. It felt disgusting, the wetness creeping along your skin, but deep down, every drop was a small victory for making him feel good.

With each stroke, you watched the fizzy mixture drip, the mess clinging to your hand and wrist as you pumped vigorously. You squeezed him in your palms, watching him sputter. Come painting across your face. You bit your lip, trying to steady your hand, hoping you milked him empty. His slit deflating a little more with every squeeze. You could see the droplets peeking through, mocking you.

He threw his head back, catching his breath. “Feel good?” you teased, sucking your fingers. You slid your body up his, his bare cock still hard, brushing against the skin of your thigh. His body jolting at the touch.

"Thank you for your help today, baby," you murmured, letting your lips brush gently against the tip of his nose, a soft, affectionate kiss.

“Anytime,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes. “And don’t hesitate to bring me any other problems you’ve got,” he added, only half-joking, clearly savoring the reward you’d just given him. “I’m always glad to help.”

You laughed, the sound light and warm, as you slipped off the bed. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you teased, padding across the room toward the bathroom to shower. You glanced back at him once more, a smile still tugging at the corners of your mouth, “You coming?” you ask, disappearing into the bathroom.

He slid off the bed in a hurried, awkward motion, the springs letting out a sharp, staccato creak that echoed through the room. His feet barely touched the floor before he was shuffling off, making his way into the bathroom behind you.

#challengers #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #challengers fanfic #patrick zweig smut #tashi duncan #tashi duncan x reader

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unusualtfs · 8 months ago

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The Roommate Compatibility Program

this is my first time posting something like this to tumblr, hope it's an enjoyable read !

Arthur and Jimmy may have had the same last name, but that was the only thing they had in common.

Arthur Lee was, by all accounts, a nerd. When the Asian math major wasn’t dutifully taking notes on complex equations at his lectures or studying in silence at the library, he could usually be found holed up in his dorm, gaming until the wee hours of the morning. His only extracurricular activity to speak of was his weekly participation in the Chinese Student Union, if by “participation” one meant “sitting in the back of the room and not speaking to anyone.” His naturally pale skin was made even more so by a lack of sunlight, and his messy black hair resisted any attempt at styling. Short, shrimpy, and gay, he had clearly never seen the inside of a gym. In short, he was the exact opposite of his roommate.

Jimmy Lee was everything Arthur was not. Tall where Arthur was short, buff where Arthur was skinny, popular where Arthur was friendless. The straight white jock spent his days living out the all-American college fantasy — playing sports, pumping iron, and partying all night long. Of course, that hardly left any time for Jimmy to work toward his comms degree — but that hardly mattered, because everyone knew he was as dumb as a bag of rocks. His brutish Neanderthal features, extensive body hair, and blond buzz cut only added to that impression.

Maybe it would have been unrealistic to expect Arthur and Jimmy to be friends, but certainly no one could have anticipated the sheer antipathy that defined their roommate relationship. Arthur’s reasons for hating Jimmy were predictable — he was dumb, loud, and obnoxious; he left dirty clothes and sweaty exercise gear everywhere; and he stank up the dorm with his alpha musk. Jimmy equally couldn’t stand his prissy, prudish roommate. Arthur nagged him constantly, and he shot down all his invitations to work out or go out. Not to mention, he forbade Jimmy from getting laid while he was in the room, which was all the time. Nothing said unsexy like the presence of a judgmental Asian nerd hunched over his gaming PC at two in the morning.

Needless to say, it was not an ideal situation for anyone. So when a flier for the Roommate Compatibility Program was slipped under their door one evening, their interest was piqued.

Having issues with your roommate(s)? The Roommate Compatibility Program is here to help! Our trained experts use scientifically proven methods to ensure you and your roommate have a lifelong bond. 100% success rate, guaranteed!

In a rare moment of agreement for them, they decided they had nothing to lose.

That was how they found themselves entertaining a stranger in their dorm the next day. The man, who had introduced himself as “Mr. Thompson-Filipowski, from the RCP — but you can call me Mr. T.F. for short” had shown up out of the blue, giving them no time to prepare. So now they sat in their respective beds, answering Mr. T.F.’s questions as he appraised their living space thoughtfully. He wore a loud blue suit and had in hand a clipboard that he occasionally used to jot down notes, but otherwise he had no distinguishing features to speak of. Everything else about him, from his build to his skin tone to his hairstyle, was somehow impossible to pin down. He must have just had one of those faces.

“Thank you, boys,” he said after he was done interrogating them about their (lack of a) relationship. “I just have one more question for each of you before we can officially get started.” He turned to Jimmy first. “Jimmy, what would your ideal roommate be like?”

Jimmy had to think for quite a bit at that question. Finally, he responded in his vapid baritone: “Uh, I dunno… I guess he would just, like, be my bro.”

Mr. T.F. nodded, scribbling something on his clipboard. “Okay, excellent.” He turned to the Asian nerd next. “And Arthur, what about you?”

“My ideal roommate would be someone who’s, well, similar to me,” Arthur said, wincing at how his voice still cracked at every word. “Someone who shares my interests, and who I can spend time with, and… yeah.”

Mr. T.F. returned to his clipboard. “Right,” he said. “So, to summarize — Jimmy, you want your roommate to be your bro. And Arthur, you want your roommate to be similar to you. Is that correct?” There was a strange weight to his words, exuding the sense that something significant was carried within them, but Jimmy didn’t register this and Arthur thought it irrational, so both roommates ignored it. They nodded.

“Excellent!” Mr. T.F. said, the ominous presence now gone from his voice. “Okay, so often what we’ve found at the RCP is that roommate incompatibility is often a case of misapplied expectations. Often, our roommates do meet our expectations, you just need to keep an open mind about it. I’d wager you boys have much more in common than you think.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and Jimmy audibly scoffed at that, but they both kept listening anyway.

“For instance, looking around your dorm room, I can tell that both of you have a pretty similar fashion sense, wouldn’t you say?”

Arthur wanted to protest that all of the clothes strewn about belonged to Jimmy, not him, but the more he looked, the more he realized that wasn’t entirely true. That jersey on the floor definitely belonged to him, as did the baseball cap hanging from his bed and the sweaty white socks next to his desk. In fact, now that he thought about it, roughly half of the clothing he could see actually was his. Huh, he supposed he did dress similarly to Jimmy, then…

“I guess so,” Jimmy said as Arthur was distracted. “It’s hard to remember whose is whose sometimes because we dress the same and wear the same size, huhuh.”

As Jimmy spoke, his words became reality. He didn’t notice, but he shrunk down a few inches from his previously monstrous height until he was just under six feet — still respectable, but no longer anything more. Meanwhile, Arthur rose dramatically to meet him, until they stood at the exact same height. Since the two were equally small and shared the same taste in schlubby, sporty clothes, they essentially owned one wardrobe between them, borrowing and swapping constantly — although what looked tight and well-fitted on the muscular Ajimmy was loose and baggy on the lanky Jarthur. Curiously, the shirt Jarthur currently wore was the one item of clothing he wore that didn’t update itself to match his new reality; as such, it was now uncomfortably small on him.

Mr. T.F. continued, “And judging by the sports gear and gaming equipment in here, it looks like you also have similar interests, isn’t that right? Have you ever tried bonding over that?”

Again, it seemed Mr. T.F. was mistaken. Yes, their room indicated their respective interests in fitness and video games, but those interests were far from shared. Jarthur wanted to correct him, but then he had to reconsider. While he wasn’t into sports like Ajimmy, he certainly knew his way around them. He got as hyped as any other guy watching the Super Bowl, and he had fun whenever he was invited to play a quick game of basketball or soccer.

Meanwhile, Ajimmy was trying not to laugh at the implication that he liked video games. What did Mr. T.F. take him for, some nerd like Jarthur? But now that he thought about it… he did have fond memories of owning his bros with his mad gaming skills. He didn’t really want to call himself a gamer — he wasn’t into any of that anime or Nintendo kiddie shit. But Madden, CoD? Yeah, he fucked with those.

Imperceptibly, the dorm room shifted to match the roommates’ changing interests. Posters of popular players duplicated themselves from Ajimmy’s side of the room and pinned themselves into the wall above Jarthur’s bed. At the same time, the gaming computer vanished from Jarthur’s desk, swiftly replaced by a small TV between their beds. Well-used controllers popped into existence, one for each of them. The roommates themselves weren’t spared from the wave of changes, either. The tan leached out of Asjimm’s skin until he was quite pale, although not unhealthily so. Meanwhile, muscles made themselves known for the first time all across Joethur’s body. He was still lanky, but there was a definite sculptedness to his body that had never been there before, demonstrating his newfound appreciation of physical activity and straining his shirt even further.

“Yeah, all the time,” Joethur responded to Mr. T.F.’s questions. “I can destroy Asjimm at basketball in real life and in 2K,” he bragged.

“As if!” Asjimm retorted good-naturedly. “Next time, I’m kicking your ass, nerd!”

Joethur laughed. He may have had some problems with his roommate, but their shared competitiveness was not one of them.

“Ah, that’s lovely to hear,” Mr. T.F. said, checking a box on his clipboard. “The best way to become closer is to spend time together, after all. But that should be easy for you two — I’d imagine your class schedules are quite similar, since you’re in the same major.”

What was Mr. T.F. talking about? Joethur had never taken a comms class in his life, and Asjimm would certainly never be caught dead in a math classroom. But then Joethur went over his class schedule in his head again, and he realized that he did share most of his classes with his roommate. There was Accounting 101 on Mondays and Wednesdays, and Entrepreneurship every Thursday morning… In fact, aside from Joethur’s one math class and Asjimm’s lone comms class, their schedules were identical! But how could that be the case…?

“Well, I mean, yeah, I guess we do,” Asjimm said. His face twisted into a cocky smirk. “But just between you and me, it’s not like we bother to show up to class most of the time, right Joethyr?”

Everything suddenly snapped into place for Joethyr. Ausjim was right, of course — being a business major required confidence, charisma, and leadership skills more than anything else, and both Joethyr and Ausjim had that in spades. It certainly didn’t require studying or smarts, which was fortunate for Joethyr, as his brain was rapidly shrinking to match his meatheaded roommate’s. In fact, it was even smaller than Ausjim’s — he had scored highly enough in high school math that he was able to take an elective comms class for an easy A this semester, while Joethyr was being forced to struggle through calculus for a second time.

Records across campus rapidly rewrote themselves to reflect this new reality. Ausjim’s grades rose slightly, even as Joethyr’s GPA dropped from a 4.0 to a 2.0 — but whatever, C’s got degrees. In turn, the two roommates underwent their own changes. Joethyr’s unkempt hair retreated into his skull, leaving behind a slick fade. Moreover, the spark of intelligence retreated from his eyes, leaving them dark and hard. Ausjim’s hair experienced the opposite change, growing out into an impeccably groomed quiff that perfectly framed his face, neutralizing his unattractive Neanderthal features. His body hair also faded into nothingness, leaving him totally clean-shaven. The business classes he was taking had taught him the importance of presentation, after all.

“Yeah, bruh,” Joethyr agreed, now speaking in the same vacant timbre as Ausjim.

“Well, how do you boys spend your time then?” Mr. T.F. prompted. He was nearly at the bottom of his checklist — this far into the process, he didn’t even need to guide the roommates’ transformation. Their new personalities had largely subsumed who they used to be, and would be happy to fill the remaining gaps by themselves.

“Isn’t it obvious, bruh?” Ausjim said. “The gym — duh! Gotta get those gains!”

At his roommate’s proclamation, Joethy underwent a startling change. At last, his muscles ballooned all across his body until they were identical in size to Ausjim’s. No longer did he have to settle for merely toned — he was well and truly ripped. So dramatic was the change that his shirt was instantly torn apart, revealing his glorious pecs and washboard abs for the world to see. The Asian hunk subconsciously flexed as he thought about his answer to Mr. T.F.’s question, realizing something funny in the process.

“Hell, we probably even spend more time at the Chinese Student Union than class, right bruh?” Joethy nudged his equally jockish roommate.

The word “Chinese” resonated in Ausjin’s mind as he experienced sudden changes of his own. His lush hair was quickly thickening and inexorably staining itself midnight black. And as for the rest of his body, his lack of hair down there became much easier to maintain, as he naturally had less of it. Meanwhile, his facial features were shifting all at once — brow softening, nose broadening, eyes narrowing, lips plumpening. Eventually, they settled on what the rest of his body had already become — a carbon copy of his roommate.

“Yeah, bro, totally…”

At the word “bro,” the roommates’ final changes began. The physical refinements were over, but there was still work to do mentally. Ausjin’s brain was purged of the faces of his former family, their white features morphing into far more familiar Asian ones. Fond memories shifted as his mother’s famous meatloaf became her authentic dumpling recipe, and the destination of his childhood summer vacations was corrected from Europe to China. Through it all, he remained the dumb, popular jock he had always been. That was also true of Joethy, who could no longer remember being a lame, skinny nerd. Nights spent studying were replaced with nights spent partying, and members of an extensive social circle easily entered the parts of his brain that had never experienced true friendship. His memories of his family remained the same, however — with one key addition. The newcomer’s face was blurry, but the more that he focused on it, the more familiar it seemed. Almost like… his own face…? Or was it Ausjin’s face? That seemed closer, but…

By Joethy’s side, Ausjin found his memories haunted by an identical face. The two jocks sat there in dumbfounded silence, both trying to recall who it was that featured so prominently in their memories. What was his name? Not Joethy or Ausjin, but rather… rather…

“Joey! Austin!”

Joey and Austin Lee snapped back to attention, refocusing on their strange guest.

Mr. T.F. chuckled, putting his clipboard away. “You boys zoned out there for a sec! It’s okay, I’ll get out of your hair soon. I just have one last question for you — are you getting along as roommates?”

“Well, of course we’re getting along, bruh!” Austin exclaimed.

“We’re basically the same person already!” Joey finished his twin’s sentence with a pure, dull guffaw.

Because it was true. Joey and Austin Lee were clearly cut from the same cloth: The identical twin Asian jocks were both brainless, buff, bisexual business-major bros. The only appreciable difference between the twins was their hairstyles. Austin fancied himself a pretty boy, spending hours by the mirror meticulously maintaining his gelled hair. Joey, meanwhile, rocked a utilitarian crew cut, confident enough to put his angelic face on full display. But other than that, they were totally inseparable — everything they did, from working out to gaming to partying, they did together. (Rumor had it that they even fucked together, only bringing a lucky girl or guy home when he or she was willing to share.)

“Great to hear that! Thanks for participating in our Roommate Compatibility Survey, you two — although I don’t know what results we were expecting from twins like you… Anyway, have a great one!” As Mr. T.F. exited the room, he allowed himself one last glance back at the Lee twins as they mindlessly bantered. Both of them had certainly gotten their wishes. Joey was exactly like Austin, and Austin was exactly like Joey, and they were certainly each other’s bros — in both senses of the word. Another success for the Roommate Compatibility Program.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind Mr. T.F., the Lee twins promptly forgot he had ever existed, returning to their existences as paragons of young Asian American masculinity.

“So, what’s the plan for today, bro?” Austin said. “Hit the gym, then hit the streets?”

Joey smirked, admiring himself and his twin in the mirror. “You know me so well, bro!”

#male transformation #male tf #racial change #race change #personality change #mental transformation #jock tf #twinning tf #broification #jockification #dumber tf #gay to bi #straight to bi

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laurrelise · 1 month ago

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i think something interesting about a domestic life post-apocalypse-prevention for five is that he would most likely struggle to cope with the day-to-day in the same way a lot of newly released prisoners do.

in the sense that going to a store and seeing a huge aisle with 9,000 different deodorant brands can be extremely overwhelming for people adjusting to having options at all, i 100% see him getting silently overwhelmed but not really knowing what to do about it. he’s never really had that kind of choice for himself either.

growing up, everything was hand-picked and given to or done for him. in the apocalypse, there was obviously never a choice to begin with. you find something, you take it and make as much use of it as possible. in the commission, i have to assume he was very limited on the things he owned, because there was no reason to be material (if the commission even allowed for it) when the whole thing was a temporary situation he could use to fix his math.

so imagine a physically thirteen five, fresh out of hotel oblivion and finally having found somewhere to stay, going to a store alone to get toothpaste and shampoo and bread and socks. the essentials. and being silently shocked at the sheer amount of options.

also, five is very bad at not over-analyzing everything. everything has a purpose and a motive and a rule of life in his head. i imagine that deciding on something as simple as which coffee maker will be most efficient could feel like life or death to someone who’s never had an option before.

#i think he’d just stand and stare for a while #fall into his own thoughts of ‘‘this one promises this but they’re probably lying. but this one is too good to be true’’#just overthinking the entire thing because he’s never had to think about the things he owns before. he’s not used to it #he’d zone out for so long employees tap his shoulder to check if he’s okay and he gets all annoyed #pretty sure he’d actually rather jump off a bridge than ask for help too #so he’d just overthink in silence for way too long. what should’ve been a quick errand took several hours and too much self-criticism #man can this guy catch a break #even the domesticity is stressful #laur says stuff #the umbrella academy #tua #umbrella academy #five hargreeves #tua s4 #hargreeves siblings #number five #tua season 4 #tua five

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yamumsyadadd · 6 months ago

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Mami and mama

It felt natural coming out of your mouth, like you’d always called them that but it wasn’t until you were home the you realised.

It was coming to the end of the season, which meant warmer weather and less school, less football too. A big holiday with Alexia and Jenni was planned, Leila and Mapi would be there after too.

It had been about 8 months since Alexia and Jenni took you home. There were a lot of hiccups along the way and they truly realised that you needed extra love and reminders to be a kid.

—————————————————————————

You were sitting there, cris-cross applesauce, hands neatly on your thighs, waiting for alexia or Jenni to let you out of your room for the day.

It was something that started at your old foster home, unless the adults said you could leave your room, you were to sit and wait. You could only leave if your bed was made, your limited toys cleaned up and you were dressed and ready for the day. If you didn’t do it then boy were you in trouble.

Alexia noticed how quiet you were in the morning, you usually didn’t leave your room without permission and even when it was granted you stood in the corner of the dining room staring longingly at the table.

“Are you hungry Mariquita?”

“Sí.”

You still didn’t move. Almost like a solider on post. It confused her for a while. You were four, but it didn’t look it. You were lanky like Jenni but incredibly skinny, almost too skinny. Your social worker had mentioned that you were underweight and the paediatrician suggested six meals a day that were smaller in size.

Every morning was the same breakfast, porridge with honey or cinnamon, a bowl of fruit, a piece of toast and two drinks: one orange juice and one milk. At first, you ate and drank it all. Often making yourself sick due to the amount of food, but slowly Alexia and Jenni were able to convince you that it was okay to eat a bit of everything, as long as you were truly full. Jenni usually ate the leftovers anyway.

They didn’t love taking you to training, but since the event with Eli, it was their best option. After a few weeks the club agreed to turn an old office into a play room of sorts. Alexia and Jenni then spent even longer finding a carer for you. Someone who would be willing to be patient, without be condescending. Someone who would help teach you how to play, to be a kid. That’s what they truly emphasised throughout the interviews. You didn’t know how to play.

Isabel was their final choice. She was young, younger than Alexia wanted but you took to her quickly. She taught you how to play but also how to paint, how to do simple maths and you taught her about the violin. Like how the modern violin has been around for at least 500 years or that they were usually made from spruce or maple wood.

At no point did Isabel ask about your Mami or papi, or about foster homes. She didn’t make you talk about the bad stuff but she did help you learn about feelings and what to do when you were having big feelings. It didn’t take long for everyone around you to notice the difference. You were smart, incredibly so, and even though you were shy around certain people, you started to flourish around the adults to deemed safe, two of those being Mapi and Leila.

—————————————————————————

School had been out for two weeks and Isabel had called in sick, catching the bug you had during the week. That meant that Alexia and Jenni had to bring you pitchside for the day. You’d packed your bag with a few books, your maths sheet Isabel and you were working on and your disposable camera Mapi gave you last week.

Jenni slathered your face in sunscreen, letting out a satisfied hum when she was done and laughing at the frown on your face, before she ran off she pulled the brim of your hat down so you couldn’t see.

After you got comfortable, your snack box to the left with your water bottle, your stuffed dog that looked like Nala (that’s exactly why you got it), you started your maths sheet. It was easy work, and you flew through it.

You didn’t noticed the team had taken a break until the class clown sat down.

“Hola Mari!” Mapis cheerful voice put a smile on your face immediately, “what are you doing?”

“Maths! See!” You shoved the paper in her face as you sat up.

“Wow! You got these all right, you’re the smartest girl in the world Mari!”

“Mami and mama said that too.” Taking a big mouthful of water you went to move to your snack box before Mapi grabbed your hand.

“Who?”

“Mami and mama?”

“Who are they?”

“don’t be silly Mapi! You know Mami and mama. They are right over there!” You pointed to Alexia and Jenni who were both drinking and chatting with the other girls.

“Right, yes of course. Silly me.” Mapi did the same annoying move with your hat before she was gone. You went started reading your new book that Mami had picked up.

By the end of the day you were tired and your skin had the yucky residue left over from the sunscreen, your snacks were gone and your water was almost done too.

You were in the middle of a game of tag with Leila and Mapi when it happened. Mapi was in, chasing you around the pitch while most the team watched on with smiles on their faces. Leila, forever the traitor, had scoped you up in her arms so Mapi could tag you.

“Mami! Mama! Help me. Lele is cheating again!” Everyone froze. Leila wasn’t sure what to do and shared a shocked look with Mapi. As soon she as arms relaxed enough you got yourself out and ran towards your Mami and Mama. Everyone just watched you, no one dared to move.

“Mariquita? What did you call us?” Jenni got on her knees so she was eye level with you.

“Mami and mama?” You titled your head at her, truly confused.

“We are your Mami and mama?”

“Yes silly! You’re mama, she’s Mami and I’m your mariquita. That’s what Abuela says!” Alexia had turned around, not wanting you to see her cry. The fact that you thought of them as your Mami and mama made them feel on top of the world.

“You’re our mariquita. Our beautiful, once in a lifetime mariquita. Is that right Ale?” She raised an eyebrow at the other woman who was hastily wiping her tears.

“Sí, sí. All ours.” The hug that was shared between the three of you very quickly turned into a group hug. Every member of the team joining in and subtlety wiping their tears.

Once safely tucked into bed that night, Alexia finally let all her tears fall. Jenni held her tight as she cried, shooting a text off to her mother in law. After all, she knew Alexia would’ve spoken to her about hers hopes and fears for the little girl.

She called us Mami and mama today. Thank you

#alexia x reader #fcb femení #mapi león #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #jenni hermoso x alexia putellas #jenni hermoso #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #barca femeni #leila ouahabi

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