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#’act like you have the job you want to have’ oh good! you mean what I was trying to do?? with no clear outline of expectations??
call-me-corvid · 5 months
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Manger in charge of a LOT of shit quit recently because he got a job offer that was
A) 3x his original salary, and
B) involved far less responsibility
I had worked as his subordinate last year, so naturally the head honchos asked me take over what he was doing. Not with the title, but with the “promise” that we can visit that discussion in eight months depending on my performance (yeah okay /s).
Key note: I had received a similar promise for a different manager position. (No followup mention of that promise + no significant training provided to move me towards that position) * 7 months = empty promise. Alright cool.
One month in. Not getting too much guidance (expected), told I’m doing good and need to value myself higher.
Okay. Bet.
Asked for a raise in recognition of increased responsibilities beyond my current job description, quality of work, pay scale of the position (i’m at the bottom), etc. You know, hard facts that cannot be influenced by subjective feelings of importance or relevance.
Oh let’s not forget part of the raise was the annual raise that the HR manager promised ALWAYS happens but I have not received since my annual review four months ago. That I told the HR manager about two months ago but never heard anything back on. So there was a reminder of that, as well.
Told (to my face) that I’m entitled, don’t work hard enough, issued an ultimatum (literally didn’t make any sort of threat but okay), used the owner’s words against him (literally just quoted him on something he told me about pay when I was first hired but okay), they threatened that they could easily go out and find an external hire to take on in the role I’m being “trained” for, and asked if I REALLY think any other place would hire me. Among other “”feedback.””
Okay. Okay okay okay okay. I see how they view me now. Good to know. I learned quite a few things from this conversation and I think some of those things may surprise them.
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audiovisualrecall · 4 months
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Love how I can ruin something so easily
#actually id say love how depression can do so but i dont have to behave irritably just bc my brain feels unmoored and unhappy for no good#reason. i dont have to make it everyone elses problem#i wasnt trying to! but i cant communicate hey i feel like x and thats making me feel y and i dont know what to do about it#i just.. why dont they ask 'Why?' when i get like that. i want them to notice that I'm acting uncharacteristically and say something so that#i can go oh yeah thats dumb and idk why sorry yeah#but theyre reacting like its not obvious when i pointed out that this happens and that i want them to ask me 'why'#yeah is it fair to expect that if them? no. but idk what else to do abt it bc i am incapable of makingany other decision#im ANGRY#I'm disappointed i didnt get to be here for the yard sale and help them#I'm frustrated i had to be at work even though i was superfluous there today#I'm disappointed and frustrated that they dont want to try a yard sale again another week#like maybe a warmer and nicer weekend and puttinf more signs up will result in more traffic to the yard sale!#theyre giving up on it and i wanted to do a yard sale and didnt get to bc i had to be at work instead and now i wont gwt to again bc they#dont want to plan another yard sale bc theyre exhausted by it#i missed out and i wanted to do a yard sale so bad and didnt get to be here for it!#I'm frustrated that qe wont do another yard sale#and I'm unhappy that they didnf trust that i could clean up and brinf stuff inside at least like theyre tired so why are they doinf the work#let me help! i want to feel like i helped! I'm useless i dont do anything! but i was fold i cant do it on my own and wouldnt know where they#wanred to put stuff#like yeah i cant move the tables on my own into the shed. fine. but the boxes of stuff??? she could have come and directed me instead!#so like. fine i wont help. and then i got up and came to fuckinf help anyway even tjo apparently i wouldnt have done it right on my own#and shes like that attitude wasn't helpful like neither was what you said!#i know I'm not smart or helpful and just an annoying tag-alonf overgrown child but i wanted to do something#if it was my oldest sister insisting she could do it they wouldnt have protested!#whatever I'm stupid and reactive and i could have said like that makes me feel like u think i cant help and that feels shitty#whatever#I'm just. i hate existing its too frustrating and complicated and i havw no choice in the matter and i want to just curl up in bed and do#nothing and go nowhere and not talk to anyone and not do my medication bc i wont have insurance if i dont go to work bc i wont have the job#which means i can never do that bc unfortunately the result of not taking my medication scares me more than i hate having to be a person#i hate being a person but being sick is infinitely worse so
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inhonoredglory · 1 year
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Aziraphale’s Choice, the Job Connection, and Michael Sheen’s Morality
Update: Michael Sheen liked this post on Twitter, so I'm fairly certain there is a lot of validity to it.
I’ve had time to process Aziraphale’s choice at the end of Season 2. And I think only blaming the religious trauma misses something important in Aziraphale’s character. I think what happened was also Aziraphale’s own conscious choice––as a growth from his trauma, in fact. Hear me out.
Since November 2022 I’ve been haunted by something Michael Sheen said at the MCM London Comic Con. At the Q&A, someone asked him about which fantasy creature he enjoyed playing most and Michael (bless him, truly) veered on a tangent about angels and goodness and how, specifically,
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We as a society tend to sort of undervalue goodness. It’s sort of seen as sort of somehow weak and a bit nimby and “oh it’s nice.” And I think to be good takes enormous reserves of courage and stamina. I mean, you have to look the dark in the face to be truly good and to be truly of the light…. The idea that goodness is somehow lesser and less interesting and not as kind of muscular and as passionate and as fierce as evil somehow and darkness, I think is nonsense. The idea of being able to portray an angel, a being of love. I love seeing the things people have put online about angels being ferocious creatures, and I love that. I think that’s a really good representation of what goodness can be, what it should be, I suppose.
I was looking forward to BAMF!Aziraphale all season long, and I think that’s what we got in the end. Remember Neil said that the Job minisode was important for Aziraphale’s story. Remember how Aziraphale sat on that rock and reconciled to himself that he MUST go to Hell, because he lied and thwarted the will of God. He believed that––truly, honestly, with the faith of a child, but the bravery of a soldier.
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Aziraphale, a being of love with more goodness than all of Heaven combined, believed he needed to walk through the Gates of Hell because it was the Right Thing to do. (Like Job, he didn’t understand his sin but believed he needed to sacrifice his happiness to do the Right Thing.)
That’s why we saw Aziraphale as a soldier this season: the bookshop battle, the halo. But yes, the ending as well.
Because Aziraphale never wanted to go to Heaven, and he never wanted to go there without Crowley.
But it was Crowley who taught him that he could, even SHOULD, act when his moral heart told him something was wrong. While Crowley was willing to run away and let the world burn, it was Aziraphale (in that bandstand at the end of the world) who stood his ground and said No. We can make a difference. We can save everyone.
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And Aziraphale knew he could not give up the ace up his sleeve (his position as an angel) to talk to God and make them see the truth in his heart.
I was messed up by Ineffable Bureaucracy (Boxfly) getting their happy ending when our Ineffable Husbands didn’t, but I see now that them running away served to prove something to Aziraphale. (And I am fully convinced that Gabriel and Beelzebub saw the example of the Ineffables at the Not-pocalypse and took inspiration from them for choosing to ditch their respective sides)
But my point is that Aziraphale saw them, and in some ways, they looked like him and Crowley. And he saw how Gabriel, the biggest bully in Heaven, was also like him in a way (a being capable of love) and also just a child when he wasn’t influenced by the poison of Heaven. Muriel, too, wasn’t a bad person. The Metatron also seemed to have grown more flexible with his morality (from Aziraphale's perspective). Like Earth, Heaven was shades of (light?) gray.
Aziraphale is too good an angel not to believe in hope. Or forgiveness (something he’s very good at it).
Aziraphale has been scarred by Heaven all his life. But with the cracks in Heaven’s armor (cracks he and Crowley helped create), Aziraphale is seeing something else. A chance to change them. They did terrible things to him, but he is better than them, and because of Crowley, he feels ready to face them.
(Will it work? Can Heaven change, institutionally? Probably not, but I can't blame Aziraphale for trying.)
At the cafe, the Metatron said something big was coming in the Great Plan. Aziraphale knows how trapped he had felt when he didn’t have God’s ear the first time something huge happened in the Big Plan. He can’t take a chance again to risk the world by not having a foot in the door of Heaven. That’s why we saw individual human deaths (or the threat of death) so much more this season: Elspeth, Wee Morag, Job’s children, the 1940s magician. Aziraphale almost killed a child when he couldn’t get through to God, and he’s not going through that again.
“We could make a difference.” We could save everyone.
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Remember what Michael Sheen said about courage and doing good––and having to “look the dark in the face to be truly good.” That’s what happened when Aziraphale was willing to go to Hell for his actions. That’s what happened when he decided he had to go to Heaven, where he had been abused and belittled and made to feel small. He decided to willingly go into the Lion’s Den, to face his abusers and his anxiety, to make them better so that they would not try to destroy the world again.
Him, just one angel. He needed Crowley to be there with him, to help him be brave, to ask the questions that Heaven needed to hear, to tell them God was wrong. Crowley is the inspiration that drives Aziraphale’s change, Crowley is the engine that fuels Aziraphale’s courage.
But then Crowley tells him that going to Heaven is stupid. That they don’t need Heaven. And he’s right. Aziraphale knows he’s right.
Aziraphale doesn’t need Heaven; Heaven needs him. They just don’t know how much they need him, or how much humanity needs him there, too. (If everyone who ran for office was corrupt, how can the system change?)
Terry Pratchett (in the Discworld book, Small Gods) is scathing of God, organized religion, and the corrupt people religion empowers, but he is sympathetic to the individual who has real, pure faith and a good heart. In fact, the everyman protagonist of Small Gods is a better person than the god he serves, and in the end, he ends up changing the church to be better, more open-minded, and more humanist than god could ever do alone.
Aziraphale is willing to go to the darkest places to do the Right Thing, and Heaven is no exception. When Crowley says that Heaven is toxic, that’s exactly why Aziraphale knows he needs to go there. “You’re exactly is different from my exactly.”
____
In the aftermath of Trump's election in the US, Brexit happened in 2018. Michael Sheen felt compelled to figure out what was going on in his country after this shock. But he was living in Los Angeles with Sarah Silverman at the time, and she also wanted to become more politically active in the US.
Sheen: “I felt a responsibility to do something, but it [meant] coming back [to Britain] – which was difficult for us, because we were very important to each other. But we both acknowledge that each of us had to do what we needed to do.” In the end, they split up and Michael moved back to the UK.
Sometimes doing the Right Thing means sacrificing your own happiness. Sometimes it means going to Hell. Sometimes it means going to Heaven. Sometimes it means losing a relationship.
And that’s why what happened in the end was so difficult for Aziraphale. Because he loves Crowley desperately. He wants to be together. He wanted that kiss for thousands of years. He knows that taking command of Heaven means they would never again have to bow to the demands of a God they couldn’t understand, or run from a Hell who still came after them. They could change the rules of the game.
And he’s still going to do that. But it hurts him that he has to do that alone.
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taylor-titmouse · 7 months
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hey i want to talk about how you should be promoting your work as an erotic author/illustrator
i'm writing this up because the marketing aspect of my work as an erotic author/illustrator is a science to me, and also because i'm the guy who gets unreasonably annoyed when i see other creators not properly advertising their work. you presumably want to make money off your work. this post will be written under the assumption you want to make money off your work but are doing a bad job at it. it will be very confrontational. if you read this and feel attacked you're right and i am attacking you.
this is geared toward selling erotic comics/writing/books/art as products. i will probably write more than one post about this subject so if i didn't touch on something you want to know more about, comment/send me an ask and i'll keep it in mind for the next one.
i will start with my first and least specific but most important point:
DON'T GET FUCKING CUTE
hi are you paying attention. i'm gripping you by the sides of your face. do not get fucking cute with what you are trying to sell. you are not a big enough property to get cute, nobody LIKES it when big properties get cute, and you are selling porn. you have to own this. you have to be up front about this. don't be tongue in cheek, don't be all teehee i wonder what this could be~, don't be secretive. you are selling a product. you have to fucking act like it. you are an adult selling pornography to other adults. i am GRIPPING your HEAD you NEED to understand this.
and to be clear when i say 'cute' i mean coy. i don't mean cutesy, as in the aesthetic. you can be as hello kitty pastel ten emojis a post uwu as you like when you're building your audience and generating hype. but when you start trying to sell, don't be vague, don't be sarcastic, don't mislabel your work as a joke and assume everyone is on it. because they're not.
you must always assume 75% of the people seeing the thing you are advertising have no fucking idea who you are. and that includes a huge chunk of the people who already follow you. they do not know who you are or what you've been working on for two months or why they should care about it. they just got here. somebody just reposted it. they are seeing it for the first time. most people are only looking at social media for a tiny chunk of their day. they are not keeping up with you. you cannot get cute about what you are trying to sell because nobody knows what it is until you tell them.
okay are you still with me. we are going to talk about clarity now.
YOU GOTTA TELL ME WHAT IT IS
good lord the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's comic or book and had no idea what's actually in it or what it's about. who are the characters? why should i care about them? what do they do in it? what is the premise of this thing you want me to spend $5 on? why would you not tell me? i'm shaking you again. please i have to know what i'm buying i only have so much money to spend on porn.
porn, arguably more than any other genre, relies on knowing exactly what is in it. you do not want to surprise your readers with a kink they were unaware of! and on the flip side, you do not want to miss out on your target audience! if your book contains a hot spider babe laying eggs in an elf, you have to say so. not just so people who don't want to read about eggs know it isn't for them, but so the people who are egg crazy can see that and go "oh fuck YES i love EGGS here is my $5 and an extra $2 tip for catering to me specifically". a contents/features list is as much an advertisement as it is a warning!
as for re: who the characters are and why should i care, i'm sorry but you need to learn how to write sales copy. you have to write blurbs. you have to get good at the shit that goes on the back of a book. we all hate it but we have to do it. i want to know who the characters are and what the context is. i, personally, am not interested in contemporary stories as much as fantasy and historical. please tell me what genre this porn exists in so i know if it aesthetically appeals to me. pull some books off your shelves and see how they do it. hell man go look at mine.
while you're there, note that every single book of mine has a sample of what's in it. this feels like such a no-brainer to me but again! the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's work and they don't show me what their work looks like! you gotta give me the first page or two! just enough that i know if i like the way your writing sounds, or the way you draw your comics! i don't know you! i am not going to trust that you're good at what you do just based on a cover. the cover is to get me to this step, it is not the only step. you have to show me that you're worth spending my money on!
to put it less cynically, you want to catch my interest. you want me to go 'oh i want to see more of this', you want me to go 'ahh i want to know where this goes!' you need to get me invested and craving more. earn my $5!!!
YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT EASY TO GIVE YOU MONEY
hey go look at your bio right now. go look at your pinned post. do you have a link to your patreon there? do you have a link to your itchio/gumroad/whatever? do i have to click more than once to get to the places you want me to go to give you money? why? why are you making me click twice? have we learned nothing from every website making you click an extra time when they make some stupid UI update and how much it pisses us off? i have already given up, i have forgotten you, i am not giving you my $5 today. put your links in the easiest places to get to them.
god literally as i was writing this post i went to go find somebody's itchio to see how they described their work and it was not anywhere on their profile. grabbing you and shaking you PUT THE LINK WHERE I CAN FIND IT. don't make it hard! make it easy! i am a dickhead sitting on the toilet scrolling, saw your post, and was interested enough to read further. but you made me go to your bio to find your linktree and oops i have already gone back to my timeline to look at the boobies in the next post. stop wasting precious bio space on DNIs and put your fuckin links there!!!
this is more for the twitter people, but: just put the link in the damn post. just say the word commission. just say it's for patreon. "wuh wuh the algorithm" it is not the damn algorithm it's that everybody hates advertising and nobody wants to retweet ads. putting slashes in the words doesn't do anything and you look like a fool. i have posted so much art that says it's 'a commission for ___" and it did exactly as good as any other art despite having the word commission in it. and by doing the slashes you just made it impossible for anybody to search your account for your commission information (which should be at the VERY LEAST in a post under your pinned tweet if you're not actively posting about them being open).
okay that went on a tangent i'm going to back to the point of putting the link in the tweet. put it in the first post. not in the first reply. don't tell them to go to your bio. put it in the post people are actually going to share. it's fine to put more information in the thread but people are only ever going to share the first post. so put the link there. you have to make it easy. putting links in tweets can hurt you algorithmically, even in the replies. so you're better off having it in the post that actually gets seen and shared. i don't want to open the tweet and scroll to get to your sales page where i ASSUME you will have put all the information anyway. put it in the tweet that just got retweeted by itself onto my dash!
also you have to share it a ton of times. i repost my shit every few hours when i'm trying to push a new product. as i said before people are not 24/7 looking at their timelines. they missed it the first time. they missed it the second time. they didn't get paid yet that week but they were after the eighth time and you reminded them again so they finally bought it. that i will still get sales every time i repost a book ad weeks after release says there are always people who missed it, or who only just showed up.
abandon your pride and shill. shills pay their bills. anyone who gets annoyed about it isn't giving you money in the first place. don't worry about looking like a sell out. don't apologize for plugging your own work. post about it often, post about it in different ways. post about it. post about it. you are not going to make money if people don't know you have something to sell them. if you want to make a career out of it, you need to act like it.
I DON'T HAVE A FOURTH POINT
kisses your forehead. i'm sorry for yelling at you. i've been making and publishing and selling adult art for the past two-three years and have got myself to the point where it pays my rent, and i got there by paying attention to what does and does not work.
please do your best to make money. i want you to make money.
as i said above i plan to write more posts on this subject, such as cover design, how to actually write sales copy, and best practices with running a patreon, but if there's things you would want to hear more about leave a comment or send an ask! i will probably be less aggressive on future topics. these are just things that have grinded my gears for a grip.
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screampied · 8 months
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boss at work and lovers in private w hiromi? He was very strict with the user at work and acts a bit rude/mean sometimes with reader.
But once they got home he fucks her nice and slow in bed as an apology for being mean at work <3
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❤︎ ໋𓈒 higuruma who’s strictly mean in the workplace but makes sure to make it up to you at home.
warnings. fem! reader, dirty talk, unprotected, doggystyle, praise.
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higuruma was a man who always took work seriously…
a workaholic if you will.
you always found yourself trying to tease him sometimes whenever he’d be working, and he’d just give you a glare. oftentimes, he’d be a bit stern and perhaps rude. although you couldn’t deny the bass in his tone whenever he spoke to you with such seriousness made you feel a bit…tingly.
just the rough rasp in his tone whenever he spoke directly to you, withholding intimate eye contact and telling you to stop fooling around and focus at the job at hand.
nevertheless, he did feel a bit bad, in fear that feasibly he was a bit too mean to his pretty baby. so he promises to make it up to you once the two of you get home. and that’s exactly what he does.
you couldn’t wait and neither could he. higuruma remained with his work clothes on, long black slacks pulled down briefly and the only sounds you could make out was the clanking of his belt. letting off a choked whine, you were willingly taking him from behind, and his touch..
higuruma stretches you out continuously with such ease, he’s got both of your wrists pinned behind your back before muttering, “i’m sorry baby. was i annoying you earlier?”
“y-yeah.” you moaned, feeling his tip brush right against that spot.
amorously, he slides a tongue across his lips while drilling into your cunt—you’re a stuttering mess. with a low chuckle departing from his lips, he hums.
“good,” and you bite your lip, his thrusts fulfilling you entirely. each sloppy hit that went against you time and time again, it left your mind completely dumbfounded. a quite perfect synonym to define your current state after all. “oh, don't whine all cute like that, y’know ‘m just teasing..”
higuruma’s words were so smooth and his tone was wholly soft spoken.
for a second, he dips his hips against you and you whimper, running your restrained fingers against his.
“god, you’re so pretty from behind. you know that, sweetheart?” his words went straight towards your pussy, that never failed to twitch on constant repeat. “such a perfect view. wish you could see for yourself, my love.”
“h-hirooo,” you’d mewl out, the right side of your cheek pressed down against the plump mattress. he knew just where to strike you with his dick, not too rough and not too soft.
just right. immensely, your toes curled each time he’d run his tip against your g-spot for a good two seconds, eliciting a loud moan from you. “fuck, f-fuck.”
“baby, you’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh?” he pokes fun, and you shiver once you feel the cold band of his watch trail against your skin. he presses a hand down your back, making you arch for him just a bit more and your eyes roll back yet again. “you’ve been pestering me at work all day, ‘s this what you wanted hm? wanted some attention—?”
the pleasures that pierced through your body was indefinable.
all you knew was that it felt so good, the way he pivots and smacks his hips softly against your ass, rolling and rotating them to where your head’s spinning like a merri go round.
“no,” you lied, and he huffs out a breath, grinning at you still having some brat left within you. once he deepens his thrusts for a short second, your mind pauses—you’re dumb, cock dumb if that even was a correct term for it, and you moan out. “y-yes.. you’re right, you were just so m-mean.”
he groans, feeling your slick start to stick against him throughout each movement he makes by rutting in and out of your greedy pussy.
“if i make you cum one more time, will that make up for it then, sweetheart?”
“m-mhm,” you’d nod, strings of your own spit falling against the sheets — oh, how much of a mess you were for him. only higuruma could have you like this, in this position. face nearly pushed against the mattress yet he’s presenting you with soft gentle thrusts. “make me cum, please hiromi.”
“pretty girl, you know i will,” he murmurs, and you let off a muffled moan once you bite your teeth into the pillow that remained underneath your chest. it was just the way his thickness dragged so easily against your folds. you could never get enough, his size had you drooling with such lewdness. “relax, don’t wanna strain that cute voice with all that moaning do ya?”
he watches you shake your head, and he chortles.
“sweet thing,” and his hips were so sensual against you, it was unfathomable to how good it made you feel. how good he made you feel. in the pit of your stomach—you felt something stirring, brewing up inside. butterflies perhaps, you pulsed between your thighs before he feels your leg start to jitter in utter anticipation. “ooh. ‘s coming isn’t it? you feel it too, my love?”
“r-right there,” you’d squeal, and by this particular point, your legs grew limp. his movements were unpredictable. higuruma’s jaw tightens as he’s balls deep, gawking at you clawing your nails down the white silkened sheets before bawling it up into the palms of your hands. “gonna c-cum, hiro. hiro.”
he slides a thumb against the corner of your back, maintaining a gentle tip against your hips before uttering in a husky voice, “yeah you are. c’mon baby. just let go for me. ‘s okay to be a little messy, yeah?”
“okay,” you’d babble, such thick inches that remained inside of you. your knees grew weak, he had such a grip against your waist that the pads of his thumbs pressed lightly down before caressing. higuruma always knew your most tenderest bits, the spots to drive you crazy. “h-hiro, ‘m cumming..”
a gasp exits from your mouth once you felt it, your entire body paused and juddered as a response.
your lips parted and the feeling made you grow quiet for a moment — ears, the very tips of them reaching such warmth of heat before you moan out his name once more. “t-thank you, thank you.”
“don’t thank me yet, gorgeous.” he whispers, leaning in to press a kiss against your back. “we aren’t done,” he says, and your legs still shook, sensitive before he turns you over to face him, pressing a wet kiss against your mouth. “i need more of you, and you need to be reminded of your place,” and his words were filled with such flirtatiousness yet was delivered so sweet. “so, just lie back and let me fond over this body just a little while longer.”
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jo-com · 4 months
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‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹ ➛ Shots
Oscar Piastri x Fem!reader
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Summary: You guys are used to having people send out free drinks because they fancy Oscar, but when it was your turn he did not like it one bit. (Inspired by the oneshot I’ve read, I forgot who the author was sorry😭)
Genre: Fluff
Note: nothing, just look out for grammatical errors and this is not proofread
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist
───── ─ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚ ─ ─────
The sun radiated brightly emitting a soft glow that shined over the flesh of your skin— it was creating a rather medium type of shade the longer it sets on your body.
You don’t mind it though, as long as you were relaxed and rested in the embrace of you boyfriend; everything was just okay.
You and Oscar, along with his fellow drivers decided to have a day off at the beach. It was trip that has been long overdue, due to their busy schedules the trip was postponed one to many times.
So when they had their day off, the lot of them took advantage of it and agreed to pay the beach a visit— enjoying the calming atmosphere that surrounds the beach and having to spend time with their significant others. The whole afternoon was nothing but perfect.
After playing volleyball, you guys decided to just chill near the bar lounge and gossip about anything that comes to mind.
You and Oscar sat at the middle in between Carlos and Lando. As they talk more and more, your eyes started to drift off; the sound of their voices started to mix the other background clamoring.
Your eyes were closed but was still tentative— you could still feel the brush of air that lightly ran over your skin along with Oscar’s fingers that circulates at the curve of your back.
With a low hum, you acknowledged his gesture and was pleased to let him know that you appreciate it.
As time passes by, they were all still happily chatting; laughing at each other’s joke and a bit of yelling but playful one’s of course. Everything seemed to be going so great.
Well not until one of the staffs walked towards their way, holding a tray that consists of one drink.
The whole group looked curiously as the man settled the drink in your table. The loudness of their voices suddenly died down—all eyes looking intently at the man whose just doing his job.
With the sudden quietness, curiously you fluttered your eyes open. Not being able used to the sound of silence, you propped your body up and was now leaning your whole body at Oscar’s chest.
Your eye’s widened as all attention was onto you— you felt the intense feeling of being stared at back of your head.
“Good day ma’am, that gentleman over there wanted to give you this” he spoke, his hand then went to his vest and pulled out a piece of paper.
The waiter handed you the note and left, right after you took the piece of paper.
“What does it say?” Max asked, just as curious as the others.
“I’d like to know as well” oscar spoke, his tone laced with both curiosity and jealousy.
“Well…” you trailed off and then proceeds to open the folded paper.
‘Hey hot stuff, can i have your number??’
You giggled at the childish note, making your friends cock their head to the side, anticipation rushed over them as they try to read the expression off your face.
Meanwhile Oscar was not having it, he caught a glimpse of the note and saw what was written over it. Oh he was not happy at all.
“It’s nothing, just some guy asking for my number, it’s stupid really” you spoke, brushing off the note like it was nothing, i mean it was nothing well for you it was.
For Oscar, it was like all hell broke loose, did that guy not notice Oscar or something?
All the others just laughed; you along with them. It was just a harmless attempt to get to you, it’s not that big of a deal. Oscar gets those every-time and it’s fine cause you know he wouldn’t act on it or anything.
You we’re about to reach for the drink when you felt Oscar’s hand grabbing it first. You turned to his direction and raised your brows at his action.
“Oooh someone’s jealous~” Lando teased, repeating it two more times before laughing out loud. The others heard the commotion that lando started and played along with his jokes.
Oscar rolled his eyes, completely denying his emotion. “I am not jealous, i just think it’s stupid,” he shrugged, trying to play it cool— even though you could tell his true feeling just by looking at his face.
“Yeah right” Carlos replied, earning a fit of giggle from around the group.
“You’re not actually jealous? Are you baby?” You spoke teasingly, chuckling a little at your own words.
“Like i said, i am not” he said in a monotone voice; he was acting childish it was adorable. In your eyes it was— it wasn’t in his.
You then slowly shifted your body to face his and snaked your arms that rested on his shoulder blades. “Don’t take it at heart baby, you know I won’t actually give him my number right?” You whispered, loud enough for him to only hear.
“I know…” he sighed, his arm settled in the plush of your thighs; squeezing the soft surface to find comfort.
“I just don’t like it that i was here and he still asked you, am I invisible or something?” He added. His head hung low to avoid your stare.
A soft giggle left your lips as you grazed your finger over his chin and slowly lift it up, so you could be eye to eye. “Now you know what i feel when someone does that to you, but baby rest assured that i am yours and only yours.”
Oscar slowly smiled and hugged your body close to his,”i love you” he muttered— the hug getting tighter to which you of course accepted happily.
“I love you too, my love” you smiled and pecked his lips; it was short but meaningful kiss of assurance.
The whole day then went fine, sure they were teasing him non stop but it doesn’t affect him that much like earlier because you were there to assure him every-time.
Creds to the real owners ideas, this is just my version of it! Hope you like it guys sorry for not posting to much I’ve been in a writers block😭😭
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bunnys-kisses · 2 months
Text
welcome to the bunny's bakery!
how can i take your order? all you have to do is pick a dessert, drink and driver/character of your choosing! are you in the mood for a mille-feuille or a big slice of chocolate cake! please, please, please indicate who you want me to write about!!
the servers are from the following: formula one, call of duty, baldur's gate 3, haikyuu, one piece, jujustu kaisen, detective comics (dc), marvel comics (but i am open to any other fandoms you might have in mind! please do not hesitate to ask!!)
i do also accept polyam relationships! (pairing + reader), up to about four people! just to make it manageable on my end!
all orders can be made to the inbox for @bunnys-kisses and i'll get your order together asap! also let me know if you want it extra sweet or a little more spicy !
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mille-feuille: “that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”
butter tart: "let's ruin ourselves for anyone else."
sugar pie: “gonna let daddy hear ya?”
zebra cake: "well, what do we have here?"
carrot cake: "swallow it. all of it."
millionaire shortcake: "if they saw you now, you'd be the biggest shame to your family."
pots de crème: "if a picture is worth a thousand words, then i could probably get a million dollars for this photo."
oat flapjacks: "i'm not scared of you."
persian rolls: "it's mandatory i finish. you getting to finish is a treat."
spice pie: "i didn't know it was possible to be a liar and a slut."
mushroom pie: "if you don't shut up. i'm going to shut you up."
lemon slice: "i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making."
swiss roll: "everything you own, everything you wear i paid for. so i guess that means i own you."
pumpkin pie: "i've met strays who were more obedient."
pastry braid: "your job is to make me cum. now get to work."
sausage roll: "i wonder how much i could get for photos of this cunt."
pithivier: "if you don't behave, i'll let the boys take care of you."
tiramisu: “my little slut to ruin.”
sponge toffee: "aw, is someone mad that they can only cum because of me?"
pull-apart bread: "i love you"
powered sugar donuts: "marry me."
blueberry bars: “gonna make you a mamma and you're gonna make me a daddy.”
pudding chomeur: "i don't share."
ice cream bars: “did you see the way he was eyeing you? he need to know you're mine."
chocolate cake: "do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day."
soufflé: "i'll be gentle."
fried dough: "i know virginity is a stupid concept... but i want to take yours."
apple pie: "now be good and beg. thank you."
vanilla cheesecake: "where are your manners?"
berry trifle: "wrong. try again."
maple cream pie: "either you wear the necklace with my name on it, or wear my bruises around your neck."
s'more: "The accent gets to you, doesn't it?"
belgian waffles: "i cum in that every night."
pancakes: "if you bite me. i'll bite you back."
loaf of whole wheat bread: "you're going to shut that mouth and take me."
jos louis: "does someone need a daddy?"
maple taffy: "oh my god you're stupid."
snowballs: "don't worry, drug tests aren't till next week."
shortbread cookies: "and who does this belong to?"
flan: "i'm not possessive... i'm obsessive."
peach cake: "if you spill a drop, we start all over."
angel food cake: "if he fucks with me again, i'm finishing inside of you."
red velvet cupcake: "if you don't like being called a whore, then stop acting like one."
mince pie: "i'm not jealous."
banana bread: "i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name."
crumb cake: "if you just listened, all of this could've been avoided."
chocolate chip cookies: "you're beautiful when you smile, but you're the prettiest when my cock is in your throat"
nanaimo bars: "who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it."
coffee cake: "knees. now."
sourdough bread: "i'm going to breed you."
blueberry muffins: "i don't think it'll fit."
pound cake with strawberries: "you know i hate going over rules, but just because i like seeing you embarrassed, i'll tell you them again."
croissant: "i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me."
crepe: "pretty girl."
french toast: "you're trying to make me jealous!"
churros: "if you don't shut that little mouth of yours, i will stuff it full. okay?"
shortbread squares: "you're just mad that that my cock fits perfectly in you now. must be a blow to the ego that we're a perfect match."
savory pastry: "let your brother find out."
sweet pastry: "i'll make it all better."
eclairs: "the family's precious little girl. under me like a slut."
boston cream pie: "yeah, i'll use protection."
bagel: “gonna paint you with my teeth.”
crostata: “stupid slut, this is what you wanted huh? wanted me to fuck you like i hate you.”
tres leches: "i wonder if your brother know i cum in you."
peanut butter bars: “scratch me, bite me, just mark me sweetheart. show them I’m yours.”
eton mess: "be careful. your breath smells like cum."
scones: "but what if they see us!"
english muffin: "aw, is someone crying?"
honey cruller: "i forget how small you are sometimes."
banana split: "don't look at me like that."
beer brownies: "stick your tongue out anymore and you'll look like a dog."
fudge: "your father is pissing me off."
sticky toffee pudding: "the only way this is ending is you getting pregnant."
hot cross buns: "don't hide your face from me. i'd hate to have to tie you up."
brownies: "you're so much more agreeable when you have something to occupy that mouth of yours."
chocolate mousse: "the only necklace you need is my hand around your throat"
tim bits: "stupid little thing."
fruitcake: "i'll make tonight special."
cornmeal muffin: "i need you most."
devil's food cake: "you're my most unhealthy obsession."
crème caramel: "oh. you thought you were getting away from me?"
banana & chocolate muffins: "i'm only doing this because you need to learn how to behave, rules are rules, and you need to follow them."
custard tart: "i've never done this before."
cinnamon rolls: "no one needs to know."
mango sorbet: "you are by far the dumbest thing i've ever fucked. how did they even let you graduate?"
date squares: "you look better with my marks on you."
figgy duff: "if i buy it, will you stop pouting?"
spicy upside down cake: "let's play a game: don't get caught."
cream puffs: "let me finish inside."
profiteroles: "come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go."
with a side of:
coffee: rivals
tea: semi-public/public sex
juice: cockwarming
mocha coffee: breeding kink
bubble tea: daddy kink
a vodka shot: rough sex
sparkling water: gentle sex
coconut water: alternate universe
energy drink: doggy style
champagne: sugar daddy situation
hard lemonade: possessive behaviour
espresso shot: dirty talking
a glass of wine: cowgirl position
ice capp coffee: werewolf au
bloody mary: vampire au
martini: mafia au
frozen latte: dumbification
frozen lemonade: consensual non-consent
cranberry juice: mean!character
glass of water: aftercare
chocolate milk: tenderness
milkshake: size kink
pina colada: pregnancy
cider: body worship
mai tai: loss of virginity
margarita: unprotected sex
mint julep: punishments
chai: biting/hickies
earl grey: big cock
fishbowl cocktail: protected sex
tonic water: age gap
matcha latte: collars/bondage
root beer: filming/recording
soda: jealousy
americano: oral sex
whisky: degrading language
vitamin water: dom/sub dynamic
irish coffee: high sex
sangria: drunk sex
dark roast coffee: sub!character
dark hot chocolate: sub!reader
iced tea: accidentally launching relationship
lemon water: university/college au
naked & famous: bimbo/ditzy!reader
on the house: author's choice!
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ORDER UP!
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nobodyinfart · 5 months
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Would they keep you as a secret from the crew?
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For Johnny, I honestly doubt that man could keep it on the down low. I mean, he practically graduated with a Bachelor’s Degree in Yapperism, like fr he’s the certified yapper of the force. Soap would praise you to the high heavens, saying stuff like “my baby is such’a good cook, lads. I miss their food already.” even if he just came back from deployment. You could be meeting them weeks later and Captain Price is like “Oh, how’s your new job going for you?”, leaving you completely bewildered that Johnny talks so much about you that the team is aware of what’s going on in your life. 
Ghost will definitely keep your relationship on the quiet side at first, since he’s genuinely certain that it will not last with his emotional baggage. However, you prove him indefinitely wrong, loving him through thick and thin even in his darkest days. Despite him not having said anything specific to the team, his body language tells the team that there’s someone special lighting up his days. Maybe it is the curve of his masked mouth as he smiles at your messages, or the way Simon stares a little longer at beautiful sceneries that remind him of you. And the beaded bracelet he wears on his wrist is the dead giveaway all the team needs to confirm that you are there waiting for him to come home. 
Now, Gaz is the one that I am not entirely sure about. Since he isn’t as open about his personal life as Johnny but not as secretive as Simon, he may not treat your relationship as a complete mystery. Somehow, it makes it sweeter if Gaz were to let it slip from a conversation with the boys yet act completely nonchalant as if it wasn’t a secret to begin with. “Didn’t take you for a flower kinda guy, mate.” Soap commented when he watched Kyle stop by a florist to get a bouquet on the way off their base area. “Wanted to get something to surprise the darling back home,” Kyle replied without a blink, as if he had not said anything out of the ordinary. Also the one to comment that the team didn’t ask when Soap shrieks out why he hadn’t mentioned a loved one.
  As the Captain on the task force, Price is no doubt not the type to dish out that kind of personal information straight away. Rather, your existence is evident in the necklace that has your promise ring looped on his neck at all times (yes, even on missions). In private, John kisses the ring with your initial engraved on the inside of the band as if a sort of subconscious reminder of what he’s fighting so hard for. I do believe that Price would be more open to talking about you to old friends, so Laswell knows of you well and would definitely have your contact in the scenario that anything goes south. Even with his expertise, you still worry about your lover on the field.
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huskersbooze · 7 months
Text
Who's in Control?
Alastor x Reader
| Part 1(here!) | Part 2 | Part 3 |
Summary : You sold your soul to Alastor and had no idea how big of a deal this was. Until recently, you finally learn what it means, and realize all that Alastor had been doing was just a lie.. or was it?
Pairing : Alastor x F!Reader, Huskerdust? (M!Reader here, Gn!Reader here)
Warnings : swear words
Additional Tags : Angst, miscommunication, misunderstandings, Alastor actually being nice?!, no use of (Y/n)
Ib : Who's in Control By Set It Off
Word count : 1.8k
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"Good morning, dear."
"Morning, Al." You reach the lobby and take a seat on the floor next to Alastor's chair.
"How was your sleep, darling?"
"It was good! And yours?"
"Aha, hilarious, really. You know I don't sleep, my dear." He places a hand on your head and gives your hair a ruffle. "You really do know how to brighten my day."
The rest of the team reaches the lobby, and you all gather around for your daily dose of trust exercises.
-----
You and Alastor had been growing closer and closer ever since your arrival at the hotel. There was no doubt that he was your favourite person there.
And, well, for Alastor, he never wanted to admit it, but everyone in the hotel could tell, and even he was aware.
He was growing a soft-spot for you.
It was never supposed to be this way. He was never meant to grow attached. It just somehow happened, and that was that.
Everything between you two was going great. Except for that one little issue that bothered Alastor.. but you didn’t have to know. He never tried to abuse any of that power when he asked for your soul. He never thought of doing anything to you.
But there comes a time in every relationship where a lie can ruin it all.
“Hey, sugar. How ya’ doin’?” Angel Dust leans by the bar counter, greeting you as usual.
“I'm doing decent. Husk and I were just talking about you.”
“We were fuckin’ not!” You watch as the cat's ears twitch, the drink he was originally pouring tipping over.
“Oh, really? No need ta’ lie Husky~” You laugh at Angel's teasing, which makes Husk let out a low growl. “At least I don't gawk over a certain demon so obviously.”
“Hey! Are you talking about me and Al?”
“Who else would he be talkin’ about?” Angel tilts his head to the side, giving you a knowing glare. “Ya’ can't even deny it.”
“Al and I are just friends.”
“Kid, Angel's right.” The cat can only do so much but sigh. “You don't know him as well as I do. He treats you differently.”
“Still, we're just friends-”
“The Radio Demon doesn't do ‘friends’, kid.”
“Yeah, well, he owns my soul. Of course he'd treat me differently.”
The way it so simply came out of your mouth like it wasn't some big deal. Both Husker and Angel Dust froze in place, staring at you wide-eyed.
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
“What.. what did you just say?” The spider can hardly comprehend the news you'd just dropped.
“He owns my soul..?”
“Kid. What the actual fuck?!”
“What the fuck did he do to you?! Ya’ alright?! Are you hurt?”
You watch as the two demons skim your body up and down, firing questions at you, checking up to make sure you weren't hurt.
But you were confused.
“What's going on? Why are you guys suddenly acting so strange?”
“Wh- Why did you sell ya’ soul to him?!”
“Fuck I knew he was up to no good!”
“He told me by selling my soul to him he'd protect me from everything and anything at all cost. I didn't see a reason to decline?” You reply to Angel's question, ignoring Husk as he mutters about himself being correct. “I got nothing to lose.”
“Ya’ got everything to lose, shitass.” You hear his voice start to crack slightly as you realise tears welling up in his eyes.
“Angel?! Hey, what's wrong?”
“Damn, kid. You really don't know shit, huh?”
“About..?”
“What it means to sell your soul.”
“I know what it means, Al said-”
“Forget that fucker.” Husk practically spits out his name. “D'you know why I work here at the bar?”
“Because you like your job..?”
“No. It’s because I was forced by the person I sold my soul to.”
“Who..?”
“Hell, kid.. you really can't take a hint?”
And just like that, he says one more name, and your whole world comes tumbling down on you.
He didn't actually care for you, he was just shaping you in case you came to use.
He didn't actually enjoy your company, he was just watching you to make sure you were obedient.
He didn't actually mean any of the things he said. He was just trying to manipulate you.
And you were so damn lost. So damn lost as to whether the control and power you thought you had, really belonged to you.
“Valentino is an overlord.. and he's your boss?”
“Yup.” Angel nods.
“And he owns your soul like Al owns Husk’s?”
“Exactly.” Husk replies.
“And there's no escaping this contract..?”
“No.” The two reply together.
“Fuck.”
-----
“Greetings, my dear! How are you on this fine morning?” The static sounds from Alastor's usual seat at the lobby where you all gather every morning.
There's that usual smile etched on his face, which, you used to believe looked genuine when he was talking to you, but it seemed that wasn't the case.
“Hey, Husk. Hey, Angel.” You greet the two on the couch, completely passing by Alastor and ignoring his whole existence. “Mind if I sit?”
“Yeah, go ahead.” Angel scoots over and makes space for you to squeeze between Husk and himself. “Ya’ look like hell.”
“You alright, kid?”
“Couldn't sleep much last night, but I'm fine.” You reassure them.
The rest of the crew were a bit startled at your display, knowing well that you refused to not sit by Alastor's chair, normally.
And here you were, ignoring him completely like he was no longer relevant, and hanging with the other two demons.
“Okay.. what an interesting way to start the morning!” Charlie tries to break the ice.
Everyone turns their attention towards her.
Everyone but Alastor.
He was practically fuming with rage, anger, irritation, but yet, a tiny bit of worry.
How dare you ignore the Radio Demon like he was some piece of useless trash?
But then again.. why were you suddenly acting so cold and distant? What did he do wrong?
He couldn't help but focus his attention on you throughout the entire day, but you didn't even spare him a single glance.
Needless to say, you felt a knock on your door that night.
“Darling, how wonderful to see you! Wonderful, really. Mind if I come in?”
“A little. What do you need, Alastor?” You stand at the door frame, hand still on the door handle, prepared to slam the door in case anything happens.
Meanwhile, Alastor was pissed. You had never rejected inviting him in for late night chatting, in fact, you never rejected anything from him.
“It's nothing, really. I just hoped to have a friendly little chat with you, if that's alright?” Alastor leans down to your level, tilting his head and giving you his usual smile he reserved for you, and you only.
“A bit busy. Maybe next time.” You attempt to close the door, but a hand swoops in and, damn, was he strong.
“Dear, what seems to be the issue?”
“I’m really busy, Alastor.” You sigh. His ears twitch at the name. Where were all his sweet little nicknames? Why were you only referring to him by his full name?
“Clearly, something is wrong, and I ought to find out what I had done to deserve such treatment.” He states, making himself welcome in your room. “Talk to me, darling.”
“Oh enough with the pet names, I’m not your fucking pet.” You roll your eyes, closing the door behind you to make sure no one stumbles upon your little predicament.
Alastor stiffens, then laughs.
“Whatever are you talking about, dear? Of course you’re not my pet.”
“The damn contract says otherwise..” You watch as Alastor shifts uncomfortably, his back still facing you. “I should’ve known you just wanted another soul. Fuck you, Alastor.”
You continue on about how you never should’ve trusted him, and how you finally knew about everything so there was no point in him pretending to tolerate you.
Alastor, however, could barely process anything you were saying. He could hear his own static in his own head, and it was growing louder and louder.
What the fuck was happening? How did you know? What did he ever do? Where did he go wrong..?
“Darling, please.. You don’t understand-” The radio filter in his voice was off, his actual voice coming out as a soft plea.
Taken aback, you stopped talking. Alastor turned to face you, smile still etched high and proud, but his eyes looked like he was about to break.
“Alastor..” You murmur. “I just don’t think I can trust you anymore. I’m sorry.”
“When have I ever used any of that power on you?!” Alastor snaps, eyes darting all over the place, trying to find out what to do to fix all this. “I’ve been nothing but nice! I.. I helped you when you were in trouble! I did nothing to hurt you..”
You watch as Alastor starts losing his usual composure, having it slowly drifting away.. It was heartbreaking seeing him like this, but you couldn’t bring yourself to forgive him and pretend nothing happened.
“It doesn’t matter when you’re in control..”
“No.. darling, no! You’re in control!” He scrambles, grabbing you by the shoulders.
“Really? I’m not sure I trust any of that bullshit anymore.”
“Dear, please, listen to me..!”
“I'm sorry, Al.. I think it's best if you leave.”
He pauses.
“Have a good sleep, dear.” He says, voice filter completely off. It was a rare occasion getting to hear his sweet voice. Too bad it had to be under such circumstances.
-----
“Oh my, Alastor, what's got your ears pinned back?” Rosie leads her friend through the halls and has him take a seat opposite of her. “Is everything alright?”
“No.. no it's not.” He replies. “She found out.”
“About the deal?”
“No, Rosie. No.” He sighs. “She found out what selling her soul to me actually permits me.”
“But you never wanted to abuse that power, did you?”
“Of course not.”
“Then, I'm assuming you didn't tell her?”
“No.”
“Well, why not?”
“Would it make a difference?" She could practically hear him scoff. "She's irritated at me as is. It's not like she'd even heed my words."
“Come, now, Alastor. You know as well as I that the sweetheart would listen.” Rosie tuts, waving a hand at him.
“She doesn't need to know how powerful she actually is.. she doesn't need to know her soul is being gambled this very second.”
Alastor sighs, getting up from his chair.
“Thank you for your kind words, Rosie. I shall take my leave now.”
“Take care, Alastor.” She smiles. “I'm sure she'll understand.”
“I surely hope you're correct."
———/ TBC. /———
READ PART 2 HERE
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cameronsprincess · 8 months
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— summary: zach is the best boyfriend you’d ever had, he loves you, cares about you, he’s gentle with you.. but his twin brother, rafe, tempts you one night, and you can’t help but fall for it.
— warnings: smut! 18+ cheating!!! drunk!reader, aggressive!rafe, throat fucking, unprotected sex, choking, smacking, praise, degrading, iii think that’s all.
— note: @rafesthroatbaby is the fucking devil for sending me this ask she got for this idea 😩🥵 as always- likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated 🩷
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❥ boyfriends brother — r.c
zach. he was the sweetest, most loving man you’d ever had the pleasure of knowing.
he was sexy, captain of the men’s soccer team at your college, he had a good job lined up for him after graduation, he was everything you could have ever dreamed of and more.
but his brother… oh his twin brother, rafe.
rafe was zach’s polar opposite, no interest in sports, or working, he wasn’t sweet, he wasn’t kind or loving, but he was definitely sexy.
it was something about rafe’s mean demeanor that had you soaking your panties anytime he was around, anytime he’d throw a mean remark your way, or anytime he and zach would be arguing, you couldn’t help but ache. the sight of rafe angry, veins bulging in his neck and hands as he shouted the harshest things at his twin brother, it made you feel ways you knew were wrong.
you’d swore you’d never act on your feelings for rafe, swore you’d never let him tempt you. there was no way you’d ever sleep with your boyfriends brother.
and to be fair, you’d kept that promise… until tonight.
zach was out of town for the weekend, celebrating with his team for winning the biggest soccer game of the season. you had been staying at the cameron household for weeks, and this weekend was no different, you were used to being left at their home when zach wasn’t around.
you’re sat on the couch, downing your tenth glass of wine, head buzzing from the alcohol that was coursing through your veins. you were getting ready to call it a night, standing from your spot on the couch when a familiar low and raspy voice says your name, making your muscles tense, arousal already beginning to soak your panties.
“what’re you doing? drinking all by yourself?”
you glance up, eyes meeting rafe’s bright blue ones. he was wearing nothing but a pair of baby blue sweatpants that hung low on his hips, his perfectly tanned and toned chest and abdomen on display.
you shakily move your hand to grab your wine glass and the half drank bottle from the table, stuttering out a response in the process. “uh… y-yeah. i- the alcohol helps me.. uh- it helps me sleep”
rafe takes a step toward you, his head hung low before he slowly lifts it back up, eyes scanning the length of your body. you suck in a shaky breath, rolling your head from side to side as you try and gain your composure.
“yeah? you know what helps me sleep..” he pauses, taking a few more slow steps toward you until he’s standing directly in front of you, his large hands making their way to your face and pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, “sex.. yeah it uh, it helps me sleep”
you tense underneath his touch, the feeling of his fingers brushing over your skin sending a shiver down your spine.
you swallow thickly, dropping your gaze to the floor beneath you, “uh, yeah.. that uh, that’s a good way to sleep too”
rafe places his index finger and thumb on your chin, lifting your head back up, forcing your eyes on him. you feel your breathing accelerate, your heart pounding so loudly in your chest you were sure he could hear it.
he dips his head down, lips ghosting over yours. you press your palms firmly against his chest, trying to shove him back, but he grips at your wrists with his free hand, shoving them back down to your sides, “don’t try and tell me you don’t think of me in the ways i think of you, i know you want me. zach doesn’t know how to properly take care of a girl like you, a fucking whore. you need to be fucked like the whore you are”
“r-rafe. i-i can’t. i.. this is wrong, i-i love zach”
rafe chuckles darkly, his hand wrapping around your throat and squeezing tightly. he pushes you down onto your knees, his free hand shoving his sweats and boxers down his legs, his large cock springing free.
“i love zach” he mocks, “i know you don’t fucking love him, if you did, you wouldn’t give me those desperate ‘fuck me’ eyes every single fucking time you see me. now, be a good fucking girl, and suck my cock, yeah?”
you glance up at him, his normally bright blue eyes now dark, glazed over with lust. he releases his grip on your throat, his hand making its way into your hair and tugging. you swallow thickly before spitting down into your palm, slowly wrapping your hand around his thick length. you begin slowly pumping at his cock, pulling low groans from him.
you dip your head down, licking a long stripe up the underside of his shaft, leaving soft kisses to his swollen head, licking up the precum that had leaked from the tip. you hum in satisfaction when you taste him, finally wrapping your lips around his head and swirling your tongue around it. you slowly push more of his throbbing cock into your mouth, a slow and steady pace made as you bobbed your head up and down his length.
rafe tightens his grip in your hair, shoving himself fully down your throat and keeping you stuck, nose pressed against his pelvis. you begin gagging around him, his dick lodged deep in your throat pulling tears from your eyes, drool running down the sides of your mouth and his balls.
he harshly pulls your head back, his cock slipping from your mouth with a loud pop. you begin gasping for air, sucking in deep breaths. he grasps at his cock, slapping his tip against your cheek before slowly sliding himself back into your mouth, hips harshly thrusting in and out of your mouth, his swollen head beating at the back of your throat.
he continues his harsh thrusts, the sounds of your gagging and his low groans bouncing off the walls of the living room. his thrusts grow sloppy, dick pulsing in your mouth, signaling his impending release before he quickly pulls himself from your mouth.
you whine, the need of wanting to taste him strong, “raaaafe! why’d you do that? wanted to taste you” you pout.
he lands a harsh slap across your cheek, your neck snapping to the side. your hand flys to your cheek, rubbing at the spot as tears filled your eyes, “wh-what was th-” you begin to ask, but your words die, a squeal pulled from you when rafe yanks you off your knees.
his hands fly to the waistband of your silk sleep shorts, pulling them down your legs along with your panties. he grips at your thighs, giving a light tap against your ass, “jump” he demands, and you quickly obey.
your wrap your legs around his hips, his hard cock pressing firmly against your clit. rafe places one arm completely underneath your ass, keeping you upright while he free hand forces its way between the two of you, grasping his cock and sliding his head through your arousal slick entrance.
you begin whimpering, the head of his cock pushing into you slowly and then being pulled right back out. you gasp when he finally sinks himself inside of you, his tip stroking at your gspot, cock splitting you in half.
“holy fuck! rafe!”
he buries his head into the crook of your neck, mouth attacking at the skin as he starts fucking himself up into your pussy.
you’re a moaning mess, strings of curses and shouts of his name falling past your lips as he walks you toward a wall, your back being harshly pinned against it. rafe uses both hands to hold you upright, his palms tightly gripping at the plump flesh, his cock relentlessly pounding into you.
“fuck! feel s’good, tell me, who fucks you better? hmmm? me or my fucking brother?”
you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, tears pricking at your eyes as the realization of what you’re doing finally hits you. this was your boyfriends brother.. you were betraying zach, he would be heartbroken if he ever found out.
tears begin streaming down your face, a mix of pain and pleasure rushing through your body. rafe’s demanding voice and hand squishing at your cheeks has you snapping back into reality.
“fucking answer me! who fucks this pussy better?”
you whimper, “i-i.. fuck! rafe! i can’t”
rafe slows his thrusts, his mouth finding yours and leaving a hot, searing kiss to your lips. he pulls himself back, continuing his slow and sensual thrusts inside of you, “go on, fucking say it. i fuck this pussy better than zach. s’not that hard, little fucking slut loves being fucked by her boyfriends brother”
you whimper when he harshly thrusts up, your inner walls clenching around him tightly as your orgasm threatens to burst from you.
“say it!” rafe shouts, his brutal thrusts picking up in pace.
you let your head fall forward, face buried in the crook of his neck as you shout, “fuck! you fuck me better than zach! fuck rafe, ‘m gonna cum!”
rafe chuckles, “fuckin’ knew it! go on baby, soak my fucking cock, be a good fucking girl f’me and cum all over me”
the mix of his harsh thrusts and his words have you tumbling over the edge, your arousal squirting out of you and soaking rafe’s cock and thighs.
he continues fucking himself up into you, his hips stuttering and dick pulsing, “fuck, gonna fill you up with my cum, you fuckin’ want that? wanna have my cum inside your greedy little pussy?”
“y-yes! please cum inside me, rafe! i need it so badly!”
his hips stutter, his dick twitching inside you, the thick white ropes of his cum spilling inside you and painting your inner walls.
his thrusts slow, slipping his now softening cock from inside you and placing your feet back onto the ground. the room is silent, rafe turning on his heels and making his way toward his discarded sweatpants.
you awkwardly make your way toward the couch, grabbing your panties and shorts off the floor and pulling them up your legs. you watch as rafe makes his way into the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing himself a water.
“uh… rafe-” you begin, but he cuts you off.
“you don’t want zach to know, right?”
you awkwardly chuckle, “uh.. yeah. please, zach can never find out about this.. i- i really do love him”
rafe takes a quick sip from his water, pulling the bottle from his lips and smirking at you, “that’s fine. under one condition”
you narrow your eyes in confusion, your head slightly tilted to the side as you wait on him to finish.
“i get to fuck you whenever i want”
your eyes nearly pop out of your head, was he fucking crazy? there was no way you would do this again, no matter how badly you wanted to.
“what? rafe, we can’t ever do this again!”
rafe takes two long strides toward you, his hand making its way onto your cheek, “that’s the rule baby. i get to fuck you whenever i want, and zach never finds out”
you nervously chew at the skin on your bottom lip, contemplating what to say.
“i- fine! fine, if that’s what it takes.. but rafe.. i- this isn’t right, he’s your brother!”
rafe snorts out a laugh, “and? i don’t give a fuck, you’re mine now. mine to use, mine to fuck. whenever i want. night princess, i’ll see you tomorrow”
he makes his way toward the spiral staircase, disappearing up the stairs and leaving you dumbfounded and confused. what had you gotten yourself into?
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RAFE TAGLIST: @ivy-34 @rafeism @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @starkeypankowsbae @m-1234 @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @alexisbaumann2004 @yourfavborderhopper @moremaybank @rafetopia @mel119g @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @jjmaybankisbae @lexasaurs634 @lyndys @softlilacarrest @fayerite @exhaustedbutelated @urmyslxt @sierraluvz @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @sugarcoatedstarkey @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @stvrkey @vhour @emma77645 @rafeinterlude @superlegend216 @mannstarkey @digitaldiary111 @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @personalfavsthatarerandom @carolinaxvz @maybankslover @bigslay86 @buckyisveryhot @cantstoptherecs @pradabambie @slut4ani @urbestieboo
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2K notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 15 days
Note
for thawing out, i see how you've already characterized the reader as kind of the calm, even keeled one of the group and i would LOVE to just see her stand up for herself and absolutely blow up after getting pushed too far by the boys (a little mean of me to want her to go through that but-) but yes i love me a good out of character moment that kind of make the characters be like "oh shit maybe we shouldn't be acting this way-" love you babe 🫶
Hi lovely, idk if this is exactly what you had in mind but thanks sm for requesting! Love you <3
collab with @ellecdc
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5
cw: modern au, chronic pain, implied past abuse, hurt no comfort (for some)
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 2.9k words
When Remus arrives at your apartment the next morning, Sirius is already standing at the front door. His arms are crossed over his chest as he glowers in Remus’ direction, but it’s difficult to find him very intimidating when his nose is pink from the cold. 
“Oh,” he says, feeling awkward. “Hello.” 
“Hi,” Sirius replies drily. “What are you doing here?” 
Remus shrugs. Fine. If Sirius wants to be a prick (and what else is new), he can do that too. “I didn’t think you’d come. Have you knocked already?” 
“Of course I knocked,” he all but sneers. “Why would you assume I wasn’t going to be here? I said I would be.” 
“I honestly didn’t expect you’d be able to drag yourself out of bed.” 
Sirius looks ready to make a retort, but your door opens. You look surprised to see both boys on your doorstep, your smile tentative. Remus still doesn’t understand how you can do that at such an early hour. 
“Hi,” you say. Then you turn to Sirius, grin widening as you pinch the frozen tip of his nose fondly. “You made it.” 
“Obviously I made it!” The other boy’s voice takes on a wounded tone, and Remus has to tuck a smile into his scarf. Sirius must suspect, because his gaze narrows.
“How did you get this address?” he asks Remus. 
Remus feels his brow crinkle. It’s not as if he’s the one you’re in danger of. 
“He texted me last night, and I gave it to him,” you answer for him. “I sort of assumed you’d oversleep.” 
Sirius makes an indignant scoffing noise, but he appears to have nothing more to say. He seems in especially brutish form today. You’re as unphased by his moods as usual, hooking your arm through his. 
“I’m sorry to get you both up so early, but I suppose two guard dogs are even better than one.” You squeeze Sirius’ bicep affectionately, and the look you send Remus is pure sweetness. “It’s really nice of you both to come.” 
Something warm and fond blooms in Remus’ chest. Sirius mutters some disgruntled sort of assent. 
You grin. “And now, we can all buy our own drinks!” 
“Oh, fuck this then,” Sirius’ irritating pugnacious tone is back, though now it’s at least partly for show. “I didn’t realize that was part of the deal. I want out.” 
You only make an amused pffting sound, pulling him playfully against your side. 
Remus falls back to let the two of you walk alongside each other on the sidewalk. It’s odd and occasionally entertaining to watch you, so entirely familiar and at ease with each other. It’s the sort of relationship Remus hasn’t had in years, and he’s beginning to question whether he ever had a bond quite as close as yours. It’s obvious even from the outside that the pair of you know each other inside and out, and that you love each other just as deeply. But Sirius’ love is another thing entirely; the way he looks at you is almost too painful to witness. 
Remus doesn’t understand why Sirius hasn’t pursued you. He certainly prefers it this way; it makes his job considerably easier with things platonic and professional between the pair of you, but it just doesn’t add up. Sirius strikes him as the sort of cocksure prat who goes for what he wants, every time. He’s certainly arrogant enough to be sure he’ll get it, and admittedly, with his looks and devil-may-care attitude, there aren’t many people Remus can see turning him down. (They definitely should, but they likely wouldn’t.) Perhaps, after knowing him so long and working with him so closely, you’re simply too smart to get entangled with the likes of Sirius Black. 
You do eventually look back to call Remus up to join the two of you. Sirius looks irked at this, and Remus wishes he could say he was more mature, but he goes in large part because of it. You loop your other arm through his and make sure to include him in your conversation the rest of the way to the rink. 
The morning’s practice goes by with much of the same forced camaraderie. You’re friendly and receptive, Sirius is loud and irksome, but overall Remus is pleased with how things are going. You’re improving every day, to a degree Remus can’t help but admire. He can easily see you perfecting this routine by the Olympics in less than a month, which certainly defies his expectations from when he first started coaching you. Sirius is the same as always; he’s not as consistent or as controlled as Remus would like, but he doesn’t seem inclined to change and his form is (though Remus wouldn’t admit it aloud even at knifepoint) truly beautiful to watch. 
By the end, he has only one thing to say. 
“I think we need to up the ante.” 
You look up from where you’re putting on your skate guards, intrigued. “How do you mean?”
“You’re going to perfect this routine.” Remus can say that with confidence now. A nice little bonus is the way your face lights with bashful pride when he does. “You’ll get plenty of execution points from that, but if you want to really compete it wouldn’t hurt to add a higher difficulty move.” 
Sirius looks up, his gaze watchful. 
“What did you have in mind?” you ask.
“A death spiral,” says Remus. “We could fit it in during the lower-level sequence towards the end. You should be ending with more of a crescendo anyway.” 
You’re nodding. “An outside death spiral?” 
“And backwards, if you’re up for it.” 
“No way.” Sirius’ skates are already in his bag. You look over at him, bemused, but he’s looking at Remus. “You can’t fuck with the program this late. It’s only a couple of weeks before we leave.” 
Reluctantly, Remus turns to face him. His eyes are like a brewing storm. “And would you like to medal whilst you’re there?” 
“We don’t need this to medal.” 
“You don’t know what the competition will be like. You need to bring everything you can to the routine.” 
Sirius kisses his teeth. He stands, looking at Remus with barely repressed malice. “A backwards outside death spiral isn’t something you can just toss in at the last minute. We’re only just starting to manage what we have in the routine already! It’s too risky.” 
Remus fights the urge to roll his eyes. Sirius isn’t subtle; it’s clear what this is really about. “She’s going to be fine,” he says firmly, refusing to back down when the other boy's eyes narrow. “She’s perfectly capable of deciding for herself whether she wants to do this, and your feelings cannot be the deciding factor here. The death spiral is a staple of pair routines. You have to take some risks if you want to compete at this level.” 
“Oh, do you?” Sirius’ laugh is cold and dead. “Is that what you did? If it’s so fucking easy, why don’t we get out there so you can show us how it’s done?” He juts his chin towards the ice, jaw set and eyes blazing. “You can let us see how great it works out to take risks.” 
Remus doesn’t even feel the ache in his hip as he takes two quick steps towards Sirius, towering over the other boy with his blood pounding in his ears. Sirius is forced to look up, but he turns his chin up defiantly. His face hardens as he takes in a short, quick breath. 
You cram yourself between them. 
It’s like snapping back into his body. Remus stumbles back, his hip screaming at the hurried motion. He bites the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste iron, collapsing backwards onto the bench while you put yourself in front of Sirius like a human shield. Your expression is wrathful. 
“Do not do that,” you growl. You reach behind you, taking Sirius’ forearm in your grasp as though to keep him from moving. “God, why do you both have to be such dickheads to each other? We’re done here.” 
You march straight past Remus, dragging Sirius along on your other side like a dog on a leash. He looks about as shell-shocked as Remus feels. Your outburst knocked him flat on his ass, literally. It’s not that Remus didn’t think you were capable of yelling; he suspected you had fangs, but the venom came as a surprise. 
He winces when the door bangs shut behind you. They probably deserve that. He doesn’t envy Sirius, who’s likely to get a lengthy lecture from you on the walk home, but Remus does realize this could mean him losing his job. Trading petty remarks with Sirius had almost begun to feel like part of his role, but he’d never expected to make you so furious. He doesn’t know what it will mean for him that he has. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
During the entirety of Remus’ long, steamy shower, he cannot stop thinking of the look on Sirius’ face. The way his eyes had almost changed color, going from a murky gray to blue like the hottest part of a flame. He’d looked almost pleading, for half a second after Remus first brought up the death spiral, before his face hardened back into harsh stoniness. He keeps fixating on that look, that second where the dynamic between them seemed on the brink of shifting before it didn’t. But maybe it never could have. Maybe Remus imagined the whole thing; it was only half a second, anyway. 
Regardless, he feels stupid for stooping to Sirius’ level. He’s better than that, he hopes, but in the last few weeks he’s let the other boy bring out the worst in him. He decides that if you don’t fire him, he’s going to try harder to be above it. If Sirius wants to trade insults like a child, Remus can treat him like a child; with patience and a repertoire of aloof platitudes, but he won’t engage with him anymore. 
He’s put on a pair of pajama pants and is moving the waistband to hold a pack of frozen peas to his hip when there’s a knock on his door. He leans back to peer through the window, and there you are, blowing into your hands and shivering on his doorstep. 
Remus groans as he gets up. He was really hoping to have at least one night of relaxation before having to have this conversation. 
You must stop rubbing your hands together when you hear him opening the door. “Hi,” you say. 
“Hi,” Remus replies, amused despite himself. They’re having one of those odd nights where snow falls but doesn’t stick, except to you apparently. Little white flakes are tangled in your hair and dusted across your shoulders. Remus can see some between your eyelashes when you blink. You’re stiff as a board, but there’s no hiding the tiny waves of trembles that shake your frame. 
“I hope it’s okay that I didn’t call first.” Your voice is teetering on the brink of a chitter.
“Yeah, it’s alright.” Remus really shouldn’t feel so warm towards you when you’re likely here to fire (or at the very least, berate) him, but you do look terribly cold. “Would you like to come in?” 
“Yeah, thanks.” You step inside so fast he hardly has time to make room for you, and the sleeve of your coat brushes against his bare chest, making him shiver. Remus realizes then that he’s not wearing a shirt, but he decides not to care; it is his house (or his rental, at least), and you’re the one who showed up unannounced. He’s entitled to be as underdressed as he likes. 
This small bit of indignance, though founded entirely from a battle within himself, reminds Remus to be miffed with you. 
“If you’re going to ask me to apologize to Sirius,” he says, going to the kitchen to put the kettle on (he may be miffed, but he is still Welsh), “you can save it. I have no intention of getting into a row like that with him again, but I was not the one who was being unreasonable.” 
You rub your lips together, nodding. “Yeah, I agree. You shouldn’t apologize to him.” 
Remus feels his eyebrows draw together. “Okay…good. Because I’m not planning on it,” he says, just to be sure you understand. “He was completely out of line.” 
You nod again. “He was.” 
Remus finds his eyes straying to the door while he mulls over whether he’s feeling impolite enough to ask the next logical question. Then what are you doing here?
You take in a breath, letting it whoosh out of you. “I came because I want to apologize.” 
It’s impossible to keep the surprise off his face. “You?” 
“Yeah.” You rock a bit on your feet, and Remus realizes you’re still wearing your coat. Either you don’t plan to stay long, or you’re too anxious to take it off without an invitation. “I’m sorry I shouted at you earlier. It was really harsh—I mean, I was right, but I didn’t need to be cruel about it.” You glance to the side, a bit of bashfulness softening your voice. “I also shouldn’t have called you a dickhead.” 
A little chuckle escapes him. “We were being dickheads.” 
“You were,” you agree, “but I still shouldn’t have said it. I don’t want to be like that. I’m sorry, and I hope you still want to stay with us.” 
You look back at him, your expression intentionally firm but your eyes beseeching, and some part of Remus melts. He and Sirius get into fights all the time—loud ones, with shouting and name calling and absolutely no holds barred—but you snap at them once, and here you are. Having walked here by yourself in the cold because you feel bad about it. 
“Let me get your coat,” he offers.
You take your tea to the couch, where you curl up automatically on the side opposite Remus’, pulling your legs in so he can pass between you and the coffee table. Remus picks his peas back up as he sits carefully, stifling a groan. It’s a bit embarrassing to ice his hip in front of you, but the pain has become too much to ignore. 
You wince as you watch him settle them underneath his waistband. “Is that because of me?” 
He can’t very well tell you the truth when you sound so guilty. “No,” he says. “I have to do this a lot.” That part’s not a lie. 
You nod, still looking sorry. Remus is grateful when you move on quickly. 
“Just so you know,” you say, “Sirius probably won’t apologize to you either.” 
Remus almost snorts. “Yeah, I wasn’t anticipating he would.” 
You smile ruefully. “I know he probably feels bad about saying what he did—he knows he had no right—but he just gets so caught up in anger sometimes. If it helps at all, today was just an especially hard day for him. He’s always…extra on edge around this time of year. You learn not to take the things he says personally.” 
Remus studies you through narrowed eyes. He blows steam off his tea. “Does he do that to you often?” 
You shake your head. “I don’t typically goad him,” you say with no small amount of humor. Or pointedness. 
He lifts a brow. He’s already told you he won’t be apologizing for giving as good as he gets. 
You sigh, your expression going somber. “Listen, I know Sirius can get really—” you shake your head again, blowing out a breath “—really quite hot headed, but you can’t get in his face like that. His life has—well, it’s not my place to tell you about what his life has been, but even when he says things like that, you can’t act all threatening just because you’re having a spat, okay?” 
Remus feels his brow wrinkle. “Threatening?” 
Your face softens. “You looked like you were about to hit him,” you say gently. 
Something inside Remus gutters. “I did?” 
You nod, looking almost apologetic. He feels nauseous. 
“I didn’t…” 
“I don’t think you would have,” you clarify. “I’m not saying I thought you were going to hit him, I just know how Sirius works. And from his perspective, I know how it looked. You can’t do that to him.” 
“I don’t want to do that to anyone.” Remus sounds injured even to his own ears, and so he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes to shut out the pained pinch of your mouth. 
“I’m sorry,” he says after a few moments. “I really had no idea that’s how it looked. I think I got too caught up in being angry about what he said, but it won’t happen again.” 
“I know.” Your voice is gentle. You set a hand on his knee, tentative but there. “I didn’t come here to make you feel bad. It’s okay, just…now you know. For next time.” Remus opens his eyes again, and you smile wryly. “You can shout at him all you want. Don’t let him dish it out without making him take it, but just stay away from physical stuff like that, yeah?” 
“Yeah,” Remus agrees hoarsely. “Thank you.” 
“Don’t sweat it.” You give his knee a friendly pat, leaning back against the couch cushions and sipping your tea. 
Again, Remus marvels at you. Sirius fights for you every day, whether you ask him to or not, loud and bold and relentless in his devotion to you. He wonders if Sirius knows that even when he doesn’t ask, in your own way, you go to bat for him too.
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multifandomfanficss · 14 days
Text
Don’t Stop My Heart
Tyler Owens x Reader
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Prompt: You and Tyler take a road trip up to Iowa to catch some of the last tornadoes of the season, but he takes the teasing a little too far.
Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, mentions of car crashes, swerving, shitty ex boyfriends. No use of Y/N.
A/N: Hello! I didn’t proofread this one as many times as I usually do. I’m coming off a 4 and a half month writers block so I really just wanted to write and post while I was excited to do it. My job has been draining me as of late, so I’m trying to write when I get the impulse. I have so many Tyler ideas and no time to write them. Crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.
It was still fairly early, the sun was still rising. Last night you’d planned an impromptu trip up north to Iowa. It was about a 7 hour trip from Oklahoma, so you were on the road before 6. You were hoping to get there around noon. You didn’t love getting up that early, but Tyler promised he’d drive you and you could sleep in the truck. Tornado season was pretty much over aside from an isolated storm or two, but Iowa had been having very unusual storm activity all week. Tyler couldn’t resist hitting a couple more tornadoes in late August when the season was supposed to be pretty much over with.
You stayed awake for a little bit. You wanted to watch as you crossed into Missouri.
“Missouri welcomes you.” Tyler reads out loud.
“Yes! Finally!” You giggle.
“I didn’t realize you were such a big fan of Missouri.” Tyler comments.
“Oh, I’m not.” You pause, looking out your window.
“First you’re hypin’ her up, now you’re gonna disappoint her.” He jokes.
“I’m sorry, I’m sure Missouri’s fine, but I’m more excited about that.” You point to a Hardee’s down the street.
“Really? We’re crossin’ state lines and you’re gonna make me take you to Hardee’s? You can get Carl’s Jr. anytime you want back home. That’s basically the same thing.” He argues.
“Take that back! You’re just saying that because you’re a Texas boy! You’ve never had the luxury of Hardee’s.” You joke.
“If Carl’s Jr. is better, I’m not letting you pick where we eat for the rest of the trip.” Tyler puts on his turn signal and sighs.
“How is that fair? I’ve never eaten at this location. What if it sucks?” You laugh.
“You picked your Hardee’s hill and now you’re gonna die on it. Now keep your trap closed and tell me what’s good on the menu.” Tyler makes a pretend threatening face towards you as he pulls into the drive thru.
“How am I supposed to not talk and at the same time tell you what’s good?” You tease back.
“Hi welcome to Hardee’s, may I take your order?” The drive thru speaker cuts you off. Tyler shushes you and you giggle.
After getting your food you start unwrapping the straws and putting them in both drinks.
“Whatever score we give this we need to give it extra points to account for how good the curly fries would be if they were serving lunch.” You try to bargain, taking a bite.
“No, you can’t just change the rules after we already got our food, that’s cheating. Just because you’re from the north, doesn’t mean you can cheat me.” He argues. He continues driving, leaving behind the paved roads of the small town.
“You’re acting like I’m Canadian!” You giggle.
“Well, Upper Midwest is basically Canada. There’s literally a town in Iowa called Toronto!” He smirks, taking the last bite of his food, continuing to drive through the middle of nowhere Missouri, back onto the gravel roads through the soybean fields.
“Shut up!” You playfully hit his arm. He jokingly swerves and your stomach flips. You gasp air. “Tyler, knock it off.”
“You’re the one who hit me.” He pleas innocent.
“I didn’t hit you that hard.” You defend.
“I thought you were gonna sleep on the drive.” He says, smirking.
“I might later, I’m not tired.” You answer, falling for his bit. He does a big fake yawn.
“Well if you’re not tired, I might take a little nap.” He lightly swerves again.
“Tyler, this isn’t funny!” You plead.
“What? Oh. Do you mind watching the road? We woke up so early and I’m pretty tired.” He jokes before swerving again. He’s taking the joke way too far. Once was one thing, twice was too much. You start hyperventilating.
“Tyler, STOP!” You yell, tears starting to come to your eyes.
“Woah woah woah, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I’ll stop.” He has a concerned look on his face. He knew he had taken it too far.
“It’s not funny.” You cry.
“You’re right, it’s not funny. I would never-a done it if I’d known it would make you feel unsafe. I do it all the time on chases and that don’t seem to bother you. I didn’t realize-“
“That’s different! The roads and the fields when there’s no storms are different! We’re on an actual road! What- what if there were other people?! What if you hit somebody?! What if a sherif saw?!” You say, obviously still panicking. Tyler decides to pull over.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I was way outta line, but we’re in the middle of nowhere. There’s no cars or tractors around. We’re safe.” His voice is soft. “Just breathe, Darlin’. Just you and me.” He takes your hand, rubbing small circles in it. “I feel bad. I wanted a reaction outta you, but not like this. I never want you to feel unsafe with me.”
“I know.” You were still struggling to breathe. Tyler places your hand on his chest to feel the rise and fall of his breathing. He hopes you can sync yours with his own.
“Take it easy, sweetheart. You’re okay. Feel me breathing? We’re both okay.” He places a kiss to your forehead.
“I’m sorry… it’s not you. When I was in high school I had a crazy ex boyfriend who used to swerve in town just to scare me because he knew I was afraid of car crashes. He almost killed us a couple times, I think. I guess no matter how much time’s passed, dumb high school bullshit still affects me into my adult years.”
“Hey, that’s not okay. It’s not dumb bullshit. It’s trauma.” You lean over the console to be closer to him and he wraps his arms around you. “I would never put you in danger like that for the sake of a joke.” You could tell his blood was boiling on the inside, but he was trying to keep himself calm. He didn’t want to upset you more. He knew this was about you feeling better, not him.
“We gotta get going if we wanna try to make it by 1.” You wipe your tears.
“I don’t care how long we’re pulled over. Hell, we can even turn around if you’re not up to anymore. I don’t care about the chase. I care about you.” He moves your hair out of your face. “I can call the rest of the team and tell them to turn around right now or go without us.”
“What happened to Mr. If You Feel It, Chase It?” You joke, trying to lighten the mood. He looks into your eyes. You don’t know if you’ve ever seen him so serious.
“The only feeling that matters is the one I get when I’m with you.“
Tears start creeping up again. These tears aren’t bad, though.
“Tyler, I’m in love with you.” It just slips out, like the easiest confession you’ve ever made in your life. You both knew there was something there, but neither one of you were willing to say it. It had always been heavy flirting, awkward mornings after cuddling in the only bed left at the motel, a drunk kiss or two.
After a moment of staring in silence Tyler kisses you. Everything happened in slow motion, but in truth it was probably just the adrenaline slowing everything down. Tyler wasted no time in kissing you. It was the quickest decision he’s ever made. You don’t know how long the kiss was. Whatever it was, it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough. You’d swear off oxygen for the rest of your life if it meant this moment never had to end. You’d been pinning after your best friend for so long and finally the moment was here.
“I’m so glad you said something because you’re one of the best navigators I know and I really didn’t wanna risk losing you from the team by telling you I was in love with you.” Tyler laughs.
“Is that the only reason you didn’t tell me?” You ask.
“No, I was scared. Losing you from the team would be a bummer, but I couldn’t lose you from my life. We see a lot of loss in this business. Whenever I thought about it, the thing I couldn’t stand to lose most was you.” He runs his fingers through your hair, moving to cup your cheek.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
It was nice to finally say it. You’d waited a long time to tell him.
“Let’s get back on the road. This time just don’t stop my heart.” You give a small laugh.
“You’re safe with me.”
“I know. You’re not like those other guys, Ty.”
You hold hands and rest on his other arm as he drives. He’s lucky he’s good at driving with one hand because he’s happy to see about 30 minutes later you’ve finally fallen asleep. Today was going to be a long day, but Tyler knew forcing the team to wake up so early was worth it. He may have had to bribe Boone 20 bucks to drive the other car up with Lily, but at least he didn’t have a third wheel sitting in the back seat. Tyler didn’t get a lot of alone time with you. Now he had 7 hours of it. It was worth it.
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satorusugurugurl · 6 months
Text
My Wedding Date is an Escort!
Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.
Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader
Word Count: 3,882
Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language, steamy kisses, pillow walls
A/N: Ah yes, trauma dumping before things get super spicy!!! Love the communication, it’s giving this could be a great relationship but it’s complicated. If you want to be included in the tag list, you MUST have your age in your bio PLEASE!!! Thank you!!
Part One Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight
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Your breathless words had the world crashing down around Satoru as he stared at your flushed face. His eyes widened as he released you, his own heart hammering in his chest. He had never lost control like that before! But there was this pull in his chest, one that screamed that he needed to protect you from the walking douchebag with black hair away from his; no, what the fuck? Not his girl, his client! 
“Holy fuck, I'm sorry! Shit, uhm, I shouldn't have done that.” Satoru grumbled, scrubbing his hands down his face. “I’m sorry.”
Your fingers trailed slowly over your lips. They were still tingling. “No, it's okay. I almost blew our cover.” Satoru slowly dragged his hands down his face, his eyes transfixed on you as you spoke. “That was all part of the act. If you didn't do that, it wouldn't have looked as convincing.”  Satoru visibly seemed to relax, shoulders slumping as he sighed.
“Thank fuck.” 
“It was just weird.” 
“I'm sorry?”A white eyebrow cocked up at your words. “Me kissing you was weird? Was it bad?” 
Your face flushed more, the heat spreading across your cheeks before setting over your chest. “Oh god, that came out wrong!” Your hands shot up in defense. “I-I didn't mean like that, Satoru! I just—I haven't kissed anyone in over a year and a half. So I guess I just—yeah, I’m rusty.”
“No,” you jerked your head up, “no, it was nice.” Stunning blue eyes softened, making you swallow hard. He thought it was nice. He is the hottest man on the planet, and ESCORT thought kissing you was nice.
What the fuck was this life?
Snapping out of the trance Satoru had you in; you cleared your throat. “I-I think I’m gonna take a s-shower!” You tossed the extra pillow to the futon on the floor. “Oh, and uhm, that kiss was nice for me too.” You turned, bolting for the bathroom before slamming the door. 
You slowly slid down it, sitting on the ground as you touched your lips. Satoru had such soft lips. It felt really good being kissed like you were wanted. No, no, it was an act! It's all an act. An act that had Satoru pacing the floor as he ran his hand through his hair.
It was only once he heard the shower running that he sat on the ground. What the fuck was that?! His pale skin was almost red as he tugged at white tufts of hair. He never got flustered with clients before! Maybe he was going insane. He must be because his mind keeps replaying the kiss repeatedly. 
The way you stiffened, how your hands gripped him so tight as he kissed you like he had never kissed a client before. Satoru slapped both his cheeks before shaking his head. That breathtaking kiss was nothing more than him doing his job. He was looking out for you as a client. Yeah, that was it. That asshole of a guy was the reason his heart was still racing as he thought of you and your lips.
By some miracle, both of you managed to pull your thoughts away from the kiss. You showered before switching with Satoru. He finally came out ten minutes later, grinning as he witnessed you placing the four extra pillows down the middle of the futon. You fluffed, pushed, and sat back to assess your constriction before repeating the process repeatedly until Satoru barked out a laugh from behind.
“Quit the impressive wall you’ve built.” Looking over your shoulder, you watched Satoru pull a tank top over his head. He slowly pulled it down over chiseled abs that had to have been crafted by a Renaissance artisan. Because there was no way those were real. “I’ve never had a client do that before.”
”Please don’t take it personally.” You whispered under your breath before fluffing another pillow. “It makes me feel a bit better; I haven’t shared a bed with anyone in a while.”
“Hey, no worries, whatever makes you feel comfortable, you keep doing it.”
God, why was he so nice? Sure, you paid him the big bucks to pretend to be your boyfriend. But that didn’t mean he had to be so understanding and kind regarding your antics. If anything, you would have assumed your pillow wall would have irritated anyone. You know for a fact that Toji would have hated it.
His kind, understanding patience had you transfixed on his movements as you both settled into bed. You were on your side, facing him as he stared at the ceiling, his hands resting behind his head. The silence wasn’t at all awkward. It was comforting in a way. You didn’t have to force yourselves to make dreadful small talk; you could enjoy the silence. 
The silence, however, had questions eating away at your insides. “Satoru?” Your voice mingled with chirping crickets and the warm spring breeze outside. You waited until his head turned in your direction before you continued. “Would it be okay if I asked you a question?” His face softened as he nodded his head.
”Of course.” 
“Why did you become an escort?”
Satoru chuckled, rolling onto his side so you both faced each other. “I think I’ve answered that question about a million times, so it’s easy.” His arm snaked around one of the pillows between you, hugging it to his chest. “I come from a pretty influential clan. It’s all about power, money, and success with them, and being an only child, they expected a lot from me.” His eyes rolled. “The old geezers kept going about when I would get married and have my own kids. And I didn't want anyone else feeling that way.” A cunning smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “So, I became an escort to help people.” He snickered, hugging the pillow tighter. “Plus, I get to annoy those controlling old farts. So it’s a win-win for me. But I still handle my family affairs; being an escort is like my second job.” His words were genuine, and they had you smiling.
”That’s actually really sweet.” You shifted, inching just a bit closer to him. “You seem like a genuinely nice guy, doing stuff like this for strangers.” You giggled nervously, shaking your head. “That speaks volumes; I know you’re a nice guy, but I don’t know a thing about you.”
”I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Honestly.”
“Really?”
“Really.” 
“Okay, so do you like sleeping with your clients? Or has sex lost its spark?” You watched him curiously.
He shrugged a shoulder, smirking. “Sex is still good when it's with a good partner. But I honestly don't sleep with a majority of my clients. One because, well, let's be honest, they can't afford it. I charge double the price of a single day for sex. So that's ¥240,000.” 
“For sex?!” 
“Yep! So people can't afford it, especially when I do family events like this. But I usually refuse; I don't particularly like sleeping with someone unless I know them. You know?” 
You hummed, and Satoru grinned, inching himself closer. Another one of your constructed pillows shifted out of the way. “I understand. I'm glad you have the right to refuse.” He nodded, blue eyes almost sparkling in the light of the moon flooding the room. “Have you ever been in love?” 
“Puppy love, nothing more than that.” Satoru pursed his lips in thought. “But I'm not opposed to falling in love someday.”
“God,” you groaned, rolling into your back, “look at me, asking you stupid questions like I’m in high school.”
Satoru sat up, laying on his elbow as he looked down at you with a pout. “No! No, I don't mind! I like talking to you.” He was leaning over you, smiling wide, white strands of hair falling in his face.
“I like talking to you too, Satoru.”
Satoru wanted to reach out and move Y/H/C strands out of your face. To see if your skin felt as soft as it looked, to feel your warmth. His hand moved, and just before it touched you, he dropped it, clenching it in the pillow
“Y/N, could I ask you something?” 
“Seeing as I asked you something, it's only fair.” You smiled, and it was so fucking cute Satoru wanted to bury his face in the pillow and kick his feet. Restraining his urge, he cleared his throat. 
“You mentioned your ex in passing. I'm assuming it was that asshole from earlier?” You frowned, nodding. “I don't like to pry or push my clients, but I keep thinking about what you said. What did you mean by ‘why didn't he?’ when I asked why he broke up with you.”
Sitting up, you sighed, eyes slowly shutting. Remembering that night was something you desperately tried to avoid. Satoru, however, had opened up to you, and he was helping you. Plus, he'd already caught a glimpse of Toji, so you might as well bite the bullet and tell him. 
Sucking in a deep breath, you exhaled slowly, bringing your knees to your chest, hugging them. “Toji Zen’in and I were high school sweethearts. He was my first for everything, so of course, I fell hard. We moved in together when we graduated high school into a small apartment in Kyoto. We got engaged at nineteen, and things went downhill.” Your grip tightened around yourself. “To make a painfully long story short, Toji developed a gambling habit, burning through his savings while I was in college.” The sheets shifted as Satoru sat up, turning to watch you with narrowed eyes.
“So, as a novice baker working at my parent's inn at twenty-one, I faced a dilemma. My fiancè was jobless, nonetheless, and behind on our rent.” The inside of your nose began to burn as tears threatened to escape. “I could leave him and focus on me and my career. I'd be losing my home and the supposed love of my life. Or I could use the money I saved up for pastry school to cover the rent we were behind on.” 
Sheets shifted, and a large hand gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into Satoru’s eyes. “You didn’t.” The tears streaming down your cheeks answered his question. “Y/N—” A sad, broken laugh sounded in your chest. 
“I did. Used everything I saved up to keep us in our apartment for four years.” Nausea churned in your stomach as you laughed a little louder. “After all of that, everything I did, he broke off our engagement. He said he didn't love me, that he couldn't see himself with me five years down the road.” More tears fell down your cheeks, landing on the sheets. “Toji said I was too focused on my career, my dreams, that I was eating too many sweets. That I wasn't as exciting as I used to be.” Satoru’s gaze darkened as you spoke, watching you wipe uselessly at your eyes. “That devastated me, so I packed up, moved to Tokyo, and got pastry training. I haven't been back since.” 
“That fuckin’ dick!” Satoru looked obviously upset over everything coming out of your mouth. “Seriously, you're beautiful, god I hate people like that!” No one should ever be treated the way you have been. To take care of a partner, give up on a dream for someone who you were supposed to marry, to have them pull shit like that. It made Satoru sick to his stomach. 
“Yeah, I'm still trying to get over it. In a way, I guess I'm happy it happened because I feel like I wouldn't have gotten as far in my career as I have. But the scars are still there, along with the trust issues. I can't bring myself to date anyone, let alone have sex.” 
Oh. Satoru perked up at you mentioning sex. You had told him you didn't need sex. The reasoning behind that was like an itch he couldn't scratch. You brought it up, so he might as well take the opportunity to ask while he had that.
“Why is that? The sex part, I mean, you deserve your needs to be taken care of as much as the next person.”
“That my friend is because he broke up with me right after we had sex. Imagine just having an orgasm, and your boyfriend gets off of you and tells you he wants to break up before listing everything wrong with you.”
“Fuckin’ shithead.” Satoru wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest and hugging you as tightly as possible. “I'm so sorry you went through that. He's an asshole for doing that to you.” Satoru’s hand gently stroked your head as your face rested in the crook of his neck. “I hope you recover soon because you deserve to feel loved and happy.” His hand paused as he snickered. “And have mind-blowing sex that makes you forget all about those bullshit excuses he gave you.” 
Gojo Satoru’s words and tone were so genuine you found yourself smiling into his neck. Your arms wrapped around him as you lay down. “I hope so, too. Thank you, Satoru.” 
“No, thank you for sharing that with me; it means a lot.” 
The two of you stayed like that, his hand stroking your hair while you rested on his chest. Your pillow wall lasted thirty minutes and was never constructed again that night or the following one because there was a comfort you and Satoru found in each other.
The two of you had so much fun during the day. Laughing and talking as you would hang around with your family and friends. You told stories and jokes and went to dinners with the wedding party together. He got along well with everyone, and your friends liked him and his looks. At the same time, your parents admired him for helping around the inn, delivering towels to guests, and cleaning up with you. They saw him as a perfect partner, just like you had paid him to do it.
But you were beginning to wonder if it was just his job or just him being Gojo Satoru. The amount of laughing and talking you did in front and behind closed doors didn't feel like he was doing another job. He seemed to be enjoying himself truly. The days seemed to fly by, and it was hard to believe it was Wednesday night. Satoru walked you to the bar your friends were at for the bachelorette party. If it was Wednesday, you only had four days left with him. 
“Are you planning on getting drunk, like super drunk?” Satoru asked, looking at you from over his sunglasses. “Because that's a sight I would pay money to see.”
“Nah, I'll have a few drinks, but I don't like getting hammered drunk.” You gently bumped your shoulder into his side. “You sure you don't want to join us? The girls said they’re okay if you join.”
“Eh, I don't like drinking. I'm a lightweight, and it never appealed to me. If Suguru were here, oh, he'd be down.” You beamed up at him as he mentioned his one and only best friend. “Seriously, he'd love this shit. Being surrounded by girls, drinking with them.” Satoru shoved his hands in his pockets. “Seriously though, he'd love you. You two would get along great. I’ll have to introduce you to him when we get back to Tokyo.” 
His words struck you like a hot iron. He was pulling out his phone and checking the time, oblivious to what he had just said. The man you were paying to be your boyfriend for a week wanted to introduce you to his friend? His best friend! 
It had your heart fluttering as butterflies swarmed in your stomach. Satoru hadn't even corrected himself as he peered down at you, returning the warm and happy smile you were positive was tugging at your lips. God, you hadn't been this happy in so long.
“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.” 
“Cool! We should set something up. Maybe we could get din—”
The door to the bar flew open, and your friends, all looking intoxicated, spotted you. “There she is! Hurry up, Y/N, you need to catch up!” the bride-to-be slurred as she reached for you. 
“Waaait!! Mina, let her say bye to Satoru!!” another bridesmaid said, smacking her arm. 
“Right! Right, sorry!”
You giggled, looking into Satoru’s cerulean eyes. “I'm being summoned. I should get going.” Gojo snorted, leaning down and kissing you on the lips. “I'll see you later.”
“Uhm, excuse me.” Mina had a disgusted look on her face. “What the fuck was that lame-ass kiss?” Your other friends nodded in agreement. “Satoru, what the fuck? Don't you like Y/N?” 
“Of course, I like my girlfriend Mina.” 
“Then kiss her like you mean it!!” 
You turned, giving Mina a look that could curdle dairy. “Mina, stop.” She flipped you off, her attention never leaving Satoru’s face.
“If I don't get to go to a strip club, I wanna see a steamy kiss!” The other girls whistled and cheered. “I want it steamy! I'm talking smutty romance-level shit!” 
“Mina!” 
“What you both are hot as fuck! Consider it a wedding gift!!”
“Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!!” 
Oh great, now your drunken friends were chanting, and bystanders were watching. With a grimace, you turned to the very amused Satoru, who stared down at the drunken girls before his gaze fixed on you.  He shrugged a shoulder as if saying, sure, why not? But he left the decision up to you.
While you were tempted not to make your poor pretend boyfriend a walking spectacle for a group of drunk women. The thought of having to listen to them bitch and moan about you being a party pooper was way worse. So you sighed before turning to face Satoru with a smile. 
“You heard them. If we do this, I can return the dish set we bought.” 
“You don't have to tell me twice.” 
Satoru grabbed you by the throat, pinning you against the wall of the bar. His lips slammed against yours in a heated kiss you'd only seen in movies. His tongue was licking your bottom lip, and you so willingly obliged, opening your mouth, allowing his tongue entrance. Satoru trailed the hand that was around your throat down your curves. His large hand gripped your hips as he growled. Fuck he tasted so good, like cola and vanilla candy. Your tongue moved against his, trying to taste more of him. 
While you tasted like strawberries and chocolate to him, it was like a symphony of tastes between your tongues. One that he didn't want to end, his knee pushed its way between your legs, pressing firmly over your clothes core, making you gasp into his mouth, eyes going wide as the intimate touch. Your moan only made Satoru kiss you harder, desperate to feel the vibrations from the desperate sounds escaping your mouth.
“Whoa! Okay! Okay!” Mina shouted, her wine spilling as she hurried forward. “I said kiss her! Not fuck her in public.” Your best friend playfully swatted at his arm.
When Satoru broke the kiss, a string of saliva connected your bottom lips as you both gasped for air. The sheer intensity of the kiss rendered you speechless as he allowed his eyes to trail over your face. Taking in the flush tint of your cheeks, the way your body trembled under his hand, and the subtle way your hips rocked forward against his thigh. It looked like the kiss had as much of an effect on you as it did on him.
He pressed a soft kiss against your slightly swollen lips. “You did ask for a smutty book kiss.” Satoru sighed as he pulled away. “I just delivered what you asked for.” Mina said something along the lines of ‘smutty kiss without the smut, please’ as she headed back into the bar. “Well, she might not have enjoyed it, but at least you seemed like you did.” His teasing tone slowly brought you back to reality.
”Y-Yeah, it was lovely.” You fanned yourself before heading to follow after your friends. “I’ll see you later tonight.” You breathed out, but just before you could make it inside the door, Satoru grabbed your wrist, pulling you in for a hug.
”Call me when you’re done, and I’ll come get you, okay?”
”Okay.”
His lips were against yours again before he released you. “Okay.” He repeated your word back to you before waving you off as he headed back in the direction of the inn.
His kiss, the tone of voice, and the mere conversation of introducing him to his best friend whirled around your mind as you guzzled down a shot of sake, which had to have been the fifth one in the last forty minutes. While the other bridal party members were laughing and talking, you stared at the table. The kiss and Satoru’s words replayed over and over again in your head, like old sitcom reruns. 
Was it normal for an escort to tell a client they wanted to introduce them to their friends? Was he just being friendly or taking pity on you? Then there was that kiss outside of the bar! He didn’t have to put his knee between your legs, but he did! Now your panties were wet, and the more you thought about the kiss, about him, the wetter they seemed to get.
Holy shit, what was wrong with you!? 
Just three days ago, you told the guy you didn’t have sex; you didn’t need it. But the more you got to know him, the more times he kissed you, the more your icy resolve began to melt. Gojo Satoru was lighting a fire within you. One that you were very cautious of because you didn’t want to be burned again.
You got up from the table, swaying as you headed for the bathroom. Was Satoru just being nice? Or did he feel the same way you did? There was some sort of connection between the two of you. One that you might want to explore if he wants to as well. Why else would he talk to you the way that he did?
Entering the bathroom, you sighed, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your fingers trailed over your still-swollen lip. Toji had never kissed you like that in the past. Staring in the mirror, you groaned. An image of Toji stood behind you, haunting you like he had done for the last year and a half. 
“Ugh, just get the fuck out of my head and let me heal already.” You scolded the image of him in the mirror, flipping it off.
”I’m in your head?”
Your heart stopped, and your hand dropped to your side. Toji’s image smirked as he tilted his head. You were getting ready to ask yourself how drunk you were when Toji moved. His hands landed on the sink, caging you in while the smell of cedarwood engulfed you like a cloud of smoke.
”Toji—!”
“Shut up, we need to talk.”
(TBC)
Taglist:
@arminloverlol @jamzywiththejam28 @gojoful @maskedpacific @ahseyy @kash77 @sadmonke @ari-maccha @sugurubabe @hyori2 @bluechocolatemint @itsinherited @dellappatca @therealestpussyeater @dead-at-tokyo @nvrgojover @drakenswifeyy @nealeart @yunho-leeknow @fire-child-kira
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alilarew23 · 7 months
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assign yourself a new role
i know people can find states of consciousness a bit confusing, so here's a super simple exercise you can do to locate (and then be and persist in) your ideal self.
imagine somebody comes to you and says you can be anybody, instantly. you think--in terms of manifestation--well, i want to manifest my SP, so i guess that means i want to be SP's girlfriend?
ok, but what does that mean? what does that look like for you? what does that feel like?
well, i want my SP lovingly obsessed with me, spoiling me, blowing up my phone 24/7, buying me flowers and gifts and a ring, taking me on all sorts of fancy dates and trips, racing home to me at the end of the work day...
ok, so your new identity is "obsessed over, spoiled girlfriend."
i want you to imagine, now, you're on a movie set, and the director comes to you and says, "your job is to be THE obsessed over, spoiled girlfriend. i'm not giving you any lines, though. i'm not telling you how to dress or how to act. you gotta adlib, you gotta do it now, and you gotta keep doing it. that's it. that's the task."
you say ok, and you feel a switch go off within you, right?
you're no longer the person who's obsessively manifesting an SP. no. your SP is chasing you. you cannot get this man to stop texting you. you're thinking, "oh my god. he is such a simp for me, it's almost funny. he'll do anything he can to spend every second with me." you get home from shopping and--he left flowers on your doorstep? and a note? holy shit. your SP wrote you a love poem?!!?! and bought you tickets to ITALY?!
you probably feel...different...in your body, too. energetically. much more secure, powerful, maybe even sensual, a bit savage. focused on yourself and your goals, other areas of your life like friendships and work. all that neediness and yearning and pain just--dissipated. you're no longer the desirer. you're the desired.
feels good, doesn't it?
well, you just shifted your state.
that all took place in imagination, but it felt real because...spoiler alert...it is real.
you're not imagining to become.
you imagine and you are.
instantly.
so you continue imagining. not because you want to "get" your SP (though you will, by law), but because "obsessed over, spoiled girlfriend" is the identity you've chosen, and you love being her. it feels right to you, natural, effortless, authentic. feels like who you are, like your truth.
(also, you don't want to get fired by the movie director, who is the most badass person alive...oh, right, that's you, too).
this applies to anything, and doesn't need to be a singular identity. you can be "obsessed over, spoiled girlfriend" and "rich as fuck powerhouse crossfit champion of the world" and "the most sought after dog walker in all the land" and "baker extraordinaire" and "bestselling author with a three-book deal." these are all just states of consciousness, and your ideal self is all you assume you are, all wrapped in one.
have FUN.
be because it feels good, because it's true, because it's you.
your world will--because it must--re-shape itself around you.
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icarusredwings · 10 days
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Be warned. I wrote this at midnight. I have no clue what im talking about. Do you get it?
"Why doesn't this wolverine teach history? Other wolverine did"
Well, because THAT Wolverine had a Charles. Let me remind you just how fragile Logan's mental state is and just how quickly his brain can throw him into a temporary amnesia due to shock and / or panic that is triggered by his CPTSD.
The thing is, this Wolverine has a Wade. Not a Charles. Sure, Jean could probably do something to him if things got too crazy but you know just how dangerous of territory that would be. Yes, Charles doesn't have a healing factor but it was his confidence and perfect reassuring words that helped him, plus If something did happen Im pretty sure he wouldn't blame him much anyway. He knows what hes dealing with. This isnt to say that jean doesn't but I can see her panicking too much and Logan would feed off of that fear and panic and become worse.
Wade, on the other hand, is neither calm nor says the right things, BUT he can't die :D Which is a massive YES when it comes to dealing with a panicking 3+ time war veteran with knife hands. And is known to attack first ask later.
Trying to teach the kids about 'Nam, a thing sets him off. He stares off into space for a bit, Backs up and his breath gets heavy. The hairs on his arms are raised up and his pupils dilate, they widden and its as if he doesn't even remember he's a teacher.
When he starts the whole "Who are you? Where am I!?" Thing, a student (probably the oldest or one that's been dubbed most responsible) slowly just gets up and leaves to tell a trusted adult.
"Mrs. Munroe?"
"Yes?"
"Mr. Howlett is acting funny again."
"Okay darling. Go fetch Mr. Wilson for me? There's a dear."
She, calm as ever walks into the class room, standing away from the door so not to make him feel trapped, and very clearly shows her hands as she gestures the kids to leave.
Backing himself into a corner, he watches them one by one leave, Gripping at the chalk boards ledge and the windowsil, trying to balance and ground himself.
"Come now children. Quietly and slowly please. Good job. Go next door to Mrs. Summers please." Sending them to the next class room so to leave this one empty.
She stands off to the side of the room. Hands in front of her, smiling softly. "Hello Logan."
"What? Who are you?" He almost hisses but can't help but to feel not so threatened. He always did have a sweet spot for women. Maybe its their scent difference, but like most reactive animals, he's a little calmer for women. A little more trusting.
"Im a dear friend of yours. My name is Ororo. You are in no danger here." She states this practiced sentence with the same whisper of a voice.
"Where the fuck am I. How did I get here!? Did you bring me here!?" At this point he's growling.
"Logan, I assure you that no one forced you here. This is a school. You're a teacher."
"A teacher..?" Just a tad he softens, as if you had just told someone who wanted to be a vet when they grew up that they actually would become a very good vet, except the look in his eyes was as if questioning why they would ever him do that. Be a teacher I mean.
"Yes. If you would like to leave that is okay." She slowly sits in a spare chair, her leg crossing, not knowing how long she will need to play baby sitter but she hoped someone soon would alert the other staff of this. It IS a safety risk after all and Ororo knew that if he hurt anyone at all he'd immediately regret it terribly so when he woke.
"You.. you told her to go get someone. Why? Who are you getting? For what!?" Another snap, as if he thought she was trying to trick him into letting his gaurd down.
She smiles. "Your husband."
"What the fuck do you mean my 'husband'!? What are you sayin' lady!?" The venom in the way he says this makes her giggle a bit. Oh, goodness. He really did lose all of his memories, didn't he? How was the same man who once was so dastardly in love with scott to the point of shredding his heart into a gazillion pieces and is married to the silliest man alive, so internally homophobic? The irony of the thought made her laugh.
"And that kids is how you slice someone into sushi. Rice not included-" His weapons tatics and saftey class is interrupted.
"Mr. Wilson?"
"Oh hey, squirt! You wanna learn how to disconnect someone's joints without even leaving a puncture wound?"
"Maybe later.. uhm...Mr. Howlett's scared again..."
You just see Wade running out on these kids like "I'M COMING WOLVIE!"
"What, you think it's funny!? I ain't got a husband lady! Now, Im leaving! And there's nothing you can do to stop me!" He goes to walk out the door only to run into said husband, who immediately hugs him.
"Babe!! Hi! They told me- OUCH- okay yeah I deserved that- no tocuhy I forgot."
And is stabbed.
"What the fuck is wrong with you!? Get off me! Freak!"
"D'aawww!! Did you see that? He called me a freak! I hate to tell ya cupcake, but you're married to this freak. Now, what's wrOOW- Mad kitty are we? Woah there tiger! Easy boy!"
Logan looks at him, confused, stabs him again, and is trying to figure out why Wade's not dying. He goes to slash him in the head and wades like "WAITWAITWAIT NOT INFRONT OF THE KIDS-"
Mrs. Munroe, by now, has gotten up and left, closing the door and letting out a big sigh, wondering what shade of red they were going to paint the room this time.
She does a little clicky on her walkie and infroms all the staff about the situation and so for the next half hour or so, Logan's kids get to skip class and said classroom now needs a deep scrub.
And this ladies and gentlemen is why this Logan doesn't teach history anymore.
P.E. is SOOOO much easier on his mental status, and sometimes Wade joins, and he puts the whole class against him to make them work on their team building skills. Plus- it's funny to watch your husband get slapped in the head with 20 dodgeballs.
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darnell-la · 25 days
Note
Sub! Logan would be so fucking hot. And the way you write him is soo good! I'd love to see your ideas about how he would act as a sub.
note: we rushed this BUT we have more. better ones coming soon!
follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!
———
“Going to pearls,” a woman spoke as she got into his car. “What’s your name?” He asked to confirm. “Y/n,” she said. The man turned around, realizing that this young lady was alone.
Usually, he picks up a huge group. That’s why he has a limousine, but she’s alone and has no one on her guest list.
“You gonna drive, handsome?” Y/n asked. Logan quickly turned back around and began driving. He was surprised by the nickname, but he let it go. He’s been called everything by now.
Logan’s been driving for ten minutes, music low, and y/n looking out the window. He’s never felt this awkwardness because it wasn’t him and only one person in the car.
“So — Friends busy?” He asked. Y/n slowly turned her head, looking at the man in the mirror. “All canceled. As always,” she added before she looked back out of the window.
“Oh,” he said, feeling a bit bad. He could see she paid one hundred for every hour tonight, and he would be with her for six hours.
“I mean, I can talk to my job, probably give you a refund or somethin,” he said, feeling like he should help her in some way. Usually, the man couldn’t care less, but y/n’s a young woman going to a club alone.
“I’ll be fine — Guess all the drinks I bought will be for me,” she said in a low voice that pained Logan to hear. She seemed sweet, and her friends canceled out on her. All of them.
“What was this for? Like, tonight? What did you have planned for tonight?” He kept a conversation going which confused y/n. His profile says he preferred not to talk and that he wouldn’t talk first.
“Well, it’s kind of my birthday, so — Yeah,” y/n sighed. “Oh, well — Happy birthday?” He said, not knowing if it was appropriate. The woman giggled to herself at his attempt to make her feel better.
“Are you sure you don’t wanna drink? I’ve got plenty and I can’t leave with any bottles,” she said, pointing to the bottles on the table, all hard liquor and only one juice for a mixture.
“I kind of have to drive you back home,” Logan turned down her offer, which he’d never done before. “C’mon! It’s my birthday,” she smiled at the man as she raised a bottle for him to take.
Logan waved her off, wanting to be responsible and think about her life that could be at stake, but he still felt bad about the empty spaces on the couches.
“Fine, but only if you don’t report me,” he joked, making her laugh as she took a bottle herself. “Cheers to me and my only friend who showed up which is the bodyguard,” she raised her drink.
“Cheers,” the man chuckled before raising the drink to his lips. He watched the girl drink, thinking it would be a small amount like any young lady, but her — She had almost chugged half the bottle.
“Woah, bub — Don’t hurt yourself,” he said, making her roll her eyes playfully. “Oh, don’t be mad because I can drink more than you,” she said, wanting to have some kind of fun tonight. Getting her bodyguard drunk and then driving her home sounds like a fun story to tell.
“Trust me, y/n — You can’t,” he said, but y/n didn’t believe him. That was until he shrugged his shoulders and chugged the whole bottle. The expression across her face was stunned. She’s never seen anything like that before.
“What the fuck,” she whispered. “Yeah — Kinda my power,” he chuckled. The man turned around to start his job and stood outside of her closed section until she spoke.
“Wait! I-I’m kind of alone so I don’t mind if you — stay? Please, I kind of feel like shit,” she admitted. She told her friends she was completely fine about their cancellation, but she’s not. She lost a lot of money and her mood was talk.
Logan couldn’t turn the offer down just like the last, so he stayed. The two drank all night, finishing every last bottle. She even got him to dance with her which he wouldn’t have done with anyone else. He had no idea what’s gotten into him tonight.
“God, tonight was fun,” y/n said as the man turned the corner where her apartment was. “Yeah, it was,” Logan smiled as he took a quick look at the young lady who was now sitting in the passenger seat, body turned towards him.
“You don’t understand how much I appreciate you, Mister Logan. You were the best fun I’ve had in like years!” She admitted. He wasn’t scared to drink and dance like most of her friends were.
“You’re the most fun I’ve had in maybe forever,” Logan meant it, but she had no idea who this man was. She was too sad to notice when she first met him and now she’s too drunk to realize.
“Is there a way I can repay you? Maybe like a cup of tea? I don’t fuckin’ know,” y/n laughed with him. “I don’t know, hun, I kind of have to get back home,” he said.
“How far do you live from here?” She asked. “About thirty minutes,” he said. “Oh, no,” she gasped. He’d been drinking because of her, and now she was going to have him drive back and half an hour just to get him.
“Don’t worry, bub. I've been doin’ this a lot,” he said. “Yeah, but I’ll be stressed all night. Please, stay the night. I have a spare room? It’s the least I can do,” she said, sounding like a beg. “God, it’s hard to turn you down. Do you know that?” He said as y/n smiled.
Logan parked the car for the night before y/n got him situated in her spare room. “Still want tea?” She asked. “I think I’ll be fine, bub,” he said. “But a shot would due,” he added. He had seen the liquor drawer she had.
“Comin’ right up, handsome,” she said before walking off. As she did, he couldn’t help but watch her figure. He scanned her dress earlier, but she looked way better just now. Maybe it was the alcohol? He didn’t know.
“You always drink this much?” She asked. “Yeah, and you?” He asked as she handed him his shot before sitting next to him with hers. “As you can see,” she giggled.
“Cheers to a goodnight with a man I brought back from the club?” She couldn’t help herself. “Cheers,” the man downed the drink as he watched her. She’s looked so drinking…
“God, that it’s hard,” she shook her head. “Yeah,” he aimlessly said as he watched a drop of liquor roll down her lip. “Hey, c’mere,” the man said, softly turning her face before wiping the liquor from her mouth.
Y/n was shocked and silent, not knowing what to do after. That seemed so sweet, but at the same time, she was drunk out of her mind.
“They look pretty,” the man spoke, breaking the silence. His thumb grazed her bottom lip, loving the smooth feeling of them. “Really?” She asked low, feeling shy all of a sudden. She hasn’t been all night until now.
“Mhm hm,” he mumbled as he slowly leaned into her. She felt like she was in a trance the way she felt she needed to lean in. Her heart was raising until their lips touched.
At first, it was sweet and slow, maybe a little tongue but after they both opened and locked eyes, they couldn’t help it.
Y/n quickly hopped on top of Logan, now grinding on his hips as he held her up by her ass. The man was shocked at her aggression and dominance but couldn’t complain.
“You taste so good,” she said under her breath as she kissed him. “I’m glad I took you home,” she added before moving down to his neck. She felt this hard urge to mark the man she hardly knew.
“Fuck, y/n,” Logan moaned low. He knew his voice could go that high. Y/n hummed into his neck, sucking long and rough to make sure he was living here marked up.
“Can feel how hard you are. Bet you’ve been waiting for me to touch you all night, hm?” She asked, hands traveling down his stomach until she could palm his clothes cock.
“Mhm hm,” the man whined at her grip. “Words, baby,” she demanded in a soft voice. “Y-Yes, baby,” the man’s mouth went slack at her touch. “So good,” she said before pushing him down in the bed.
“Gonna be good for me tonight?” She asked as he nodded quickly. “Gonna be my birthday gift, baby?” Y/n had lifted her dress before fondling with his belt. “Yes, yes, I am,” he couldn’t hide his heavy breathing.
“Oh god — You’re a big boy, aren’t you?” Y/n pulled Logan’s cock out. He was heavy and huge. “Yes, I am,” he answered, wanting to be good for her. He wanted to make her proud. He wanted to make a woman he barely knew, proud.
“He looks hungry,” y/n stroked the man, watching his pre cum leak from the tip. Y/n spat on the man’s cock, making his eyes widen because no one has ever done that to him before. They’d just wrap their mouth around him or push him inside with no preparation.
“Gonna feel so good,” y/n lifted her hips before sliding all the way down in one go. “F-Fuck,” the man cried out, his already bucking up into her.
“Fuck — Could you be my bodyguard every night?” She jokingly asked but the man nodded back so quickly, she thought about it. Maybe he isn’t too bad. He was fun tonight. He could be fun every night.
“Gonna let me wet you every night, baby?” Y/n asked as she leaned down on his body. “Fuck, yes — I wanna be with you every night,” the man’s hips moved slightly up into y/n, causing her to clench around him from how deep he gets.
“How old are you again, baby?” Y/n asked. “Two hundred,” the man’s hands gripped y/n’s ass, not thinking about his response. “A man with a sense of humor — So hot,”
Y/n rolled her hips, grinding on the man to feel every thick and long inch in her. The way his skin rubbed her walls, made her squeeze around him. He was close but felt embarrassed about how short he was going to last.
“Gonna cum for me, baby?” Y/n asked, seeing the man bite his lip, trying to focus on holding back. “C’mon — I want you to fill me,” y/n whispered in his ear before giving it a light slick.
“Fuck,” the man let out a shaky moan as his legs shook. “C’mon, baby — Cum in me,” y/n began bouncing in the man’s cock, feeling him twitch inside her. She just knew he was going to give her a big and well-needed load.
“C’mon,” y/n rode him harder, filling the room with their skin slapping against each other and her wet cunt coating his cock. “I’m cumming!” Logan warned through his teeth as his hips bucked upwards a few times.
Y/n kept riding him, mixing his seed inside of her until she felt like she had enough. “So fuckin’ good, baby. I wonder if you taste you,” y/n spoke, feeling the urge to suck him dry.
“Fuck, it’s too much,” the old man said, grilling her hips a bit tight so she could slow down, but she wouldn’t. “Oh, really?” She asked, feeling the knot grow in her stomach. She was so close.
“God- Fuck — I can’t take it, baby,” Logan tried begging her. “Yes, you can. Just a few more seconds, baby. You think you can do that?” She asked, looking into Logan’s eyes. They were glossy and full of lust.
The man nodded his head with a shaky hum, feeling the need to cum again. “Good boy,” she spoke as she leaned up, rocking her hips back and forth until she couldn’t anymore.
Y/n released on the man, earning a whine from him. After she came, he couldn’t hold himself in. He had come inside of her again. For the second time.
“Oh god,” y/n breathed out, feeling so full. “S-Sorry,” the man shook as she leaned in front of his face, hands rubbing his cheek. “Wanna feel more of you,” she said.
The man was shocked at how many times this woman could go, but he didn’t want to disappoint her. He wanted to pleasure her and make her happy. He tried to be good for her. And he was for the whole night and many more.
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