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#(now that i think about it could you imagine if they had the same thing happen in the aw2 vids)
thewidowsledger · 2 days
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Toothbrush
© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE
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Pairings: Nerd!Natasha Romanoff x MILF!Reader
Word count: 5.2k
Tags | Warnings: +18, AMAB!Natasha, beefy and super nerdy Natasha, MILF!reader, reader is 39 and Natasha is 22, dating apps, Tony being a good and a bad friend at the same time, lying about age, reader has sons, dirty talk, switch r & Nat but more like a top!Natasha, breeding kink, mommy kink, breast sucking, riding, teasing, rough sex, creampie, squirting, overstimulation, fingering (r receiving), ghosting (kinda), unintentionally stealing clothes👀 (?)
Author’s Note: I know I said I am going to post this tonight but my daimonion is telling me to post this right now, lol. This fic is inspired from this request, but I changed it like a lot lot I guess...I hope it's fine for whoever requested it🥹 the title is inspired by DNCE's song: Toothbrush I am currently banging with this song for weeks now.
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“F-fuck please be bad Mommy.” Natasha whined.
“No mommy wants to be bad to their baby…”
“What do you want Tony?” Natasha chuckled as she saw her best friend on her apartment door at 7 o’clock early in the morning, standing there holding a pizza box. “Really? Pizza? Early this morning?”
Tony rolled his eyes and pushed his way inside, shutting the door behind him. “Well, thank you for the warm welcome,” he teased. “Before I go to my asshole of a father’s place, I want to do one thing. Something purposeful for you, my friend.”
Nat raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what would that be?” she asked, as she led him to the living room of her small apartment.
“Let me see your phone,” he said, taking it out of her hands.
“Hey, wait!” the redhead protested, but Tony was already fiddling with it. “What are you doing?!”
“Setting up an account on a dating app,” he replied, typing away.
“Wow. So this is your grand purpose? Setting me up on a dating app? I’m touched.” She said sarcastically. She watched him, a box of pizza on his left hand and her phone on the other, seriously typing whatever it is that is asked to fulfill the account—he is really serious about setting her up on a dating site.
“You gotta be kidding Tony…”
“Nope. Enough robotics Romanoff before you turn into one.”
Nat’s eyes widened as she suddenly realized that she told Tony her plans. And a wave of regret washed over her. She had meticulously scheduled out her entire summer break even though it hasn't started yet, she intended to spend time working on her robotics project every single day of the summer break. But now, with Tony in the picture with her phone in his hands, she could already imagine the chaos that was going to ensue.
The dating preference section came up and Tony immediately, with no hesitations, clicked women. It had been common knowledge among their friends that Nat had a strong liking for girls. He chuckled to himself, thinking about the kind of women the app would likely recommend for her.
“Let’s make things spicy,” he said under his breath as he set the age range for Natasha’s profile.
With a few taps, he set the age preference to 30-50 years old. “You’ll thank me for this, Nat,” he said with a sly grin on his face.
Every time he and Nat would pass some women on the street, Tony would stealthily observe Nat’s reactions. Whether it was a woman walking past them with her kids or a lady jogging in tight-fitting leggings who he was sure was around 35 to 40, the red head is drooling already. Tony had taken note of Natasha's undeniable interest in women—women who are old enough to be her mother.
The last step came, he only needed to pick a photo of Natasha and it's all done and set up, ready to swipe left and right. So he went through her gallery to find photos of her, but her gallery is just full of screenshots about freaking science.
As Tony sifted through Natasha's gallery, his mood grew more impatient and bored.
“Seriously Nat, you’ve got like a million screenshots of scientific articles and memes about space, and when you do actually take a photo, it’s of some historical artifact in a museum. This is like a grandma’s photo album…” He grumbled, scrolling further.
“Okay, that’s enough.” The redhead stood from the sofa but Tony backed away not even looking at her, too busy to smile like an idiot with whatever he saw on her phone.
“Damn, Nat,” he muttered under his breath, a smirk forming on his face. “I had no idea you were hiding this much muscle under those baggy clothes.” He came across a couple of mirror shots that Natasha had taken in the gym. In these photos, she was wearing a tight-fitting black tank top and some baggy shorts, showing off her muscular arms and strong physique.
Tony chuckled, his eyes still glued to the photos of Natasha’s flexing arms. “Yeah, definitely milfs will absolutely love these shots.”
Nat couldn't help but blush, both at the compliment and at the mention of milfs. “You really think so?” she asked, a hint of shyness in her voice.
“Oh yeah, they would swipe right in a heartbeat,” he said, chuckling. “These are juicy…”
“Okay, you sounded perverted. Gimme that…” Natasha was finally able to get her phone back and Tony raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I was just trying to get some good pictures of you in there. You gotta give the ladies something to look at, you know?”
Tony watched as Natasha went through the app, “You just need to click confirm, and it’s all set up…but it’s still your choice. And…I gotta go, mom’s gonna call me.”
Natasha paused and looked at Tony with relief and confusion. She was grateful for the break in the conversation, but she also didn’t want him to leave just yet. “Okay...go ahead. Can’t keep mommy waiting.” She said jokingly.
“Okay now that sounded perverted coming from you, Romanoff.” Tony pointed a finger at her while walking backwards towards the redhead’s apartment door.
“I’m just kidding,” Natasha let out some giggles as she walked Tony off her apartment, “Don’t kill your father, Tony.”
“I’ll try not to, I can’t believe mom wanted me to spend half of my summer with him. I love her so much that I’ll do anything she asks of me even though it’s spending some time with the man who hurt her.”
“You’ll be fine, just don’t get your hand bloody like last time.”
Tony chuckled and saluted her back, then turned to leave. “I make no promises, Romanoff.” He sighed, Natasha just gently patted Tony’s shoulder and when she was about to close her door, her best friend's foot stopped it from closing.
“Goodluck with the milf hunting.”
For the next few days, Nat found herself thinking about the dating app and Tony’s playful attempt to set her up. She would secretly open the app every now and then but couldn't bring herself to swipe in any direction. She thinks all these women are deserving to be dated, but she could only pick one of course.
Finally, one night, Natasha couldn't resist the temptation any longer. She sat on her couch to browse through the potential matches. She’d take her frustration out on her pillow, mumbling to herself about how ridiculous this all was. But she continued, her heart raced as she began swiping through the profiles. Her cheeks flushed with a hint of embarrassment as she came across various women who fit her preference—older, attractive milf, thanks to her best friend who knew exactly what her type is.
As she read the bios, she couldn’t help but be intrigued by some of their descriptions. They were confident, successful, and had a certain allure about them that made her even more flustered.
She should've swiped right to have more chances of winning like what Tony advised her, but Natasha continued swiping left through profiles. Yes, she noticed that the women she saw were undeniably beautiful, however, she wanted to see something different, that's why she started swiping left. It wasn't because she found them unattractive, but rather because they didn't quite match the image she had in mind.
She was so intimidated, all these women looks so powerful—like how women should be. So far she'd seen woman who's a pilot, CEO, business owners and many jobs that she for sure puts a lot of zeros on their bank accounts. Not that she didn't want that and she's definitely not opposed to the idea of being a sugar baby, but...she wanted someone who's simple, domestic yet can lead her.
Each profile she scrolled through brought a mix of excitement and anxiety, yet curiosity pushed her to keep searching for that one woman who would make her heart skip a beat.
“Y/N, 39 years old, mother of two, loves gardening, sketching…” she read to herself, trying not to blush as she looked at your photo. Most women she had seen in this app either had a picture with the Eiffel tower or a selfie inside the high premium car—no offense, she loved everything old women do but you, you had a picture of yourself in a beautiful garden she thought was in your place, surrounded by lush greenery. Your genuine smile and a sparkle in her eyes stood out to Natasha.
“Just 4 hours drive away from here…”
Natasha's heart raced as she nervously swiped right on your profile, her hand trembling a little. The moment she did it, she immediately slammed her phone shut and threw herself onto her bed, her heart pounding in her chest.
The thought of you potentially seeing her profile and possibly matching with her made her stomach flutter. The redhead buried her face into her pillow, unable to wipe the redness of her face.
She stood and immediately put on her glasses to distract herself from the constant nervous feeling of seeing a notification from the app, Natasha threw herself into various activities to keep her mind occupied. She deep cleaned her apartment, organized her cluttered drawers, and even got started on her robotics project.
Days passed, but there still wasn't any notification from the dating app. And Natasha actually forgot about it, the robotics project she's working on consuming and occupying every time she had for the day.
Natasha was deep in thought, working on her project, when the sudden notification sound from her phone jolted her from her focus. Startled, she picked up her phone, expecting it to be an email from the agency she applied for an internship or her sister asking for some 5$ on cash app.
However, when she looked at the screen, her heart almost jumped out of her ribs when she saw the dating app icon. She shakingly and immediately opened it.
You: Hi dear
Natasha found herself biting her lower lip, wrestling with her thoughts. She’d faced down debaters, cracked numerous codes, and aced countless exams and quizzes. But responding to a simple “hi” from an older woman had her completely flustered. It was a ridiculous feeling, but she couldn't deny the butterflies in her stomach at the thought of conversing with you.
She typed and deleted various responses, unsure of what to say, until finally, she decided on something simple yet respectful at least.
Natasha: Good evening, how are you?
You: I’m good, just finished cooking some dinner. You?
Natasha: I haven't eaten anything yet, I was working for a project.
You: That's not good for your health and for those massive muscles of yours.
Natasha felt her cheeks grow warm as she read your reply about her muscles. Tony was indeed right when he said milfs will definitely like those. She hadn't expected you to notice that detail, but reading it brought a smile to her face.
Natasha: Massive muscles? I think you're exaggerating a bit.
She typed, trying to downplay your compliment, yet secretly loving the attention.
You: Exaggerating? Not one bit, love. Your biceps are godly💪🔥
You responded, clearly amused by her attempt to deny your compliment.
Natasha felt her heart rate increase at your playful banter and the cute emojis you used. She couldn't help but feel the pain of her cheeks from smiling with your attention and the nicknames you’re calling her.
Nat: Thanks :)))
You: So…where exactly do you live in Brooklyn?
“Y-you should... probably stop that…” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “I-I'm not... I'm not good at…”
You slowly start to grind your hips against Natasha, feeling her body tense up beneath you. Her eyes dilate, and she licks her lips nervously.
Despite her protests, you continue to grind against her, feeling her hips instinctively buck up to meet yours. Natasha’s face turns a deep shade of red, and she lets out a soft whimper as she feels herself getting hard beneath you. “P-please... stop…”
And you did, you pause, lifting your hips away from her but you were still straddling her—kneeling straightly where your tits were right in front of her. Natasha whines softly at the loss of the friction, her hips bucking forward as if seeking more. You smirk mischievously, leaning in close to her ear. “I’m stopping because my baby told me to. Mommy has to listen to what her baby says, mommy doesn’t wanna be bad.”
“F-fuck please be bad Mommy.” Natasha whined.
“No mommy wants to be bad to their baby…”
Natasha lets out a frustrated whine again, her hips bucking forward again as she chases the friction she was just denied. “B-but... Mommy... it feels so good…you’re so good…” she whimpers, her eyes filled with need and puppy-dog sadness. “Please... just a little more…”
You slowly unbutton your top, revealing your bra. Natasha’s eyes flick down to your chest, watching intently as you unhook the bra and let it fall to the floor. Your bare breasts come into view, you guide Natasha’s face to your chest, gently cupping the back of her head. Her mouth parts slightly, and you can feel her warm breath on your tits. “Be good and suck Mommy’s tits,” you whisper, your voice laced with desire.
Natasha like a good baby she is, eagerly obeys, pressing soft kisses to your breasts. She kisses and licks, her touch gentle and reverent. You can hear her breathing grow heavier, feel her body tensing as she gets more aroused.
“That's it, baby. Be so good for Mommy…”
Her mouth finds your nipples, and she begins to suck and lick enthusiastically. She moans against your skin, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. You can feel her hands gripping your waist tightly, her nails digging in slightly.
She continues to suck and lick your peaks, her cold glasses press against your warmth against the skin of your breasts, the temperature difference sending goosebumps across your flesh. You moan softly, your fingers tangling in her hair to keep her head in place as she paid attention to both of your tits.
After several minutes of shared attention on your tits, you guide Natasha's face back up to yours. You lean down and press a soft, passionate kiss to her lips finally settling back down to her lap feeling her hard once again.
Your hands gently stroking Natasha’s braided hair. You reach out and slowly move your hands towards her shorts, immediately feeling her hard cock through her boxers. Her eyes widened as he realized what you're doing. You then pulled out his cock spring free.
“Guess who’s being bad, hm?”
“Please…p-please mommy.”
You carefully shifted to position yourself on Natasha’s pointing cock. You guide her hands to your hips as you slowly lower yourself onto her. You can see the shock and pleasure on her face as you envelope her with your warm walls. “Y/N…” she stammers.
“That’s not my name baby.”
“Mommy, please!”
You bit your lower lip and began to move, taking her in and out of your warmth, Natasha’s head lolls back, her mouth opening in a silent 'O' of pleasure. Her hands on your hips tighten, her fingers digging in slightly. “It's...it's so tight, Mommy…you’re so…”
“Mhm, yeah?” You pant condescendingly, “Mommy’s what baby?”
“So good! So tight!” She cries.
“Oh yeah?”
You lean down, your breath hot against her ear. “That's because Mommy’s special hole is made just for my special baby. Only for you…” You punctuate each phrase with a slow thrust, taking her deeper.
Natasha’s breathing grows faster, her chest rising and falling rapidly against yours. Her hips buck upwards to meet your slow, languid movements. “Mommy...it...it feels…so good…” she moans softly, her voice barely a whisper. “I... I think I'm... I'm…”
“Are you good?” You asked, but the redhead didn't answer, her eyes shut closed behind her fogged glasses and was too focused on her pleasure and you loved it.
“Are you good, Natasha?” Now you calling her on her first name caught her attention.
“Y-yes…”
Your hands gripped her shoulders as you continued to ride her. “Then hold it, baby. If you're good you’re going to hold it until Mommy says you can come…” You increase the pace slightly, your own pleasure building as you feel him throb inside you. “That's it... just hold on…”
Her face scrunches up in concentration, her hands bruising your waist. “M-Mommy... it's...it's too much...I can't... I can't hold it…” she whines pitifully, his voice filled with need and desperation. “Please…”
“No, baby. You hold it. You can do it. Mommy knows you're strong…” You lean back further, grinding down onto her, your abdominal muscles flexing, “and you’re good, you can do it baby.”
Natasha lets out a high-pitched whine, her body trembling as she tries her best to obey. “I-I'm trying...Mommy...I'm trying to be good…” her body stiffens, her back arching slightly as she struggles to hold back.
You lean in close, your voice dropping to a low, soothing tone. “That's my baby... You're doing so well... just a little longer…”
Her face flushed with heat, her pupils dilating as she watched you with an agape mouth, riding her. Suddenly, her expression turns defiant.
“Fuck...maybe I wanna be bad,” she grips your hips tightly and begins to thrust up into you, ignoring your command. “Fuck, mommy I wanna be bad.”
You’re taken aback by her sudden defiance, your eyes widening in surprise. “Natasha... baby, no...oh! ” Your voice trails off as she continues to thrust into you deliciously.
“Shit baby, fuck you’re so strong!”
So now, it's you who's trying to hold back, but Natasha’s sudden burst of strength is overwhelming. She's too powerful, too determined. Her thrusts become brutal, pounding into you with relentless intensity. You're trapped, pinned on top of her dominant form, unable to escape the force of her desires.
“Natty…baby stop…”
“I can't stop, Mommy…” she moans, her body tensing as she reaches her limit. “I... I'm gonna...I'm gonna come...I'm gonna come inside you…” she throws her head towards your shoulder, her movements become erratic, her hips bucking wildly as she empties himself into you. You're left shocked, gasping, trapped on top of her as she finds her release.
“Turn around...get on your hands and knees…”
“Wha—”
Your shocked expression quickly turns into one of pleasure as Natasha’s dominant commands wash over you. You scramble to obey, turning around and dropping to your hands and knees. Natasha stands up, her hands gripping your hips as she holds you in place. “Good...my good girl... Now stay like that…”
As Natasha starts to move behind you, you feel a surge of emotion. Shock, awe, and a touch of humiliation mix together. You never imagined that she would take control like this, especially after she’d seem like the one to submit. Now, the roles are reversed, and you’re the one being taken.
Natasha's grip tightens around your hips as he begins to thrust into you from behind. The angle is different, deeper, and you can't help but let out a moan. “You like that, hm, Mommy?” she growls.
“You like being on the other end, don't you?” she thrusts deep, her hips slapping against your ass. “Answer me…” her hand reaches around, finding your most intimate spot. “Answer me or I'll stop…” she teases you mercilessly.
“Yesyesyes!”
Natasha suddenly pulls out, lifting you up and carrying you to the edge of the bed. She sits down, easily manhandling you over her lap. Your back rests against her chest as her hands held your thighs, keeping your legs wide open as she slides her cock back into your wetness.
She spreads your thighs wider, her knees pushing yours apart as she continues to pound into you. Her touch is unyielding, her rhythm punishing.
“Hold your thigh…” she took your hand and put it to keep your thigh up. “Hold...hold the other...hold both…” she commands, her breath hot against your neck. You comply, your hands gripping your thighs tightly as her strong hand comes down to string your throbbing clit.
“Oh God...Oh God, Natasha...Please... I can't...I can't take it anymore…” Your cries fill the room, your tits bouncing as she pounded inside you.
You threw your head back against Natasha's shoulder, exhausted from your struggles. She reaches up, her hand cupping your jaw and turning your head. Her mouth descends on yours, swallowing your moans. Her tongue slips past your lips, dueling with yours as she continues to pound into you.
You try to wiggle away from her relentless touch, but a strong hand wraps around one of your thighs, pulling you back. “Oh, no you don't…” Natasha's voice breathed in your ear, her hold was strong to keep your legs apart.
Her fingers never stop their relentless strumming on your clit and her cock pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
“Come for me, mama…” she whispers in your ear, her voice dark and commanding. “Squirt all over my cock…”
Her words send you over the edge. With a loud cry, you laid your head on her shoulder, your body convulsing as you came undone. You squirt all over her, your juices gushing out as she continues to thrust into you.
“That's it…” Natasha's own release hits her hard. With a final, brutal thrust, she buries herself deep inside you, her body shuddering as she comes. Her hot seed fills you up, spilling out around her still-pulsating cock. You can feel her hot cum mixing with your own fluids, the combined liquid slowly leaking out of you. You can't help but moan at the sensation, your body continuing to spasm when her cock bumped accidentally in your clit.
“You’re so good for me, mama.”
You wake up to the sound of birds chirping outside. Blinking your eyes open, you find yourself alone in Natasha’s bed. You stretch, wincing slightly at the soreness between your thighs. A quick glance around the room reveals no sign of the girl.
You sit up, rubbing your temples as a wave of guilt and self-disgust washes over you. Post nut clarity hits hard.
“How could I have been so stupid?” You chide yourself, your voice barely a whisper. “I drove four hours just to...to sleep with a stranger on a dating app.”
“Am I really that desperate for a good fuck?” you whisper harshly to yourself.
Panicked, you start searching for your clothes, but they're nowhere to be found. “Where are my clothes?” You mutter, your heart pounding in your chest. Your gaze falls on a large, plain shirt draped over a chair. You grab the shirt, smiling as you read what was printed on it
“The physics is theoretical but the fun is real.”
You quickly slip it on, the fabric swallowing you whole. It reaches down to your mid-thighs, the hem fluttering around your bare legs. You realize with a blush that you're not wearing anything else—just the shirt and your damp underwear.
You decide to take in the surroundings of the woman you slept with last night, it wouldn't be bad wouldn't it? The first thing you notice is how clean and organized Natasha's room is. The walls are adorned with intricate diagrams of solar systems, planets, and stars, each one meticulously labeled and colored. You spot a few custom-made lamps on the desk and shelves, their shapes resembling various celestial bodies that you thought she made herself.
The lamps cast a soft, warm light over the room, their glow mimicking that of distant stars. You see a bookshelf crammed with books on astronomy, physics, and electronics. A large whiteboard takes up one wall, covered in complex mathematical equations and diagrams.
Your gaze drifts downward, landing on a piece of paper on the floor. So you bend down to pick up the paper, smoothing it out on the table as you sit down. At first glance, it appears to be an application of some sort. Your eyes scan the page, taking in the details of information you see.
“Natasha...Alianovna Romanoff,” you smiled as her name tumbled out of your lips. “Beautiful name to moan to...”
“December 3,” you frowned, tilting your head slowly as you read the detail, “2002…” you felt your heart dropped to your stomach.
“22 years old?”
A sound of footsteps and a humming echo from outside the room made you alarmed. Panicked, you gripped the paper and rush towards the door, slipping out just as it creaks open. And there you saw Natasha who was cooking some breakfast.
She looks up as you exited her room, her eyes widening briefly as she takes in your appearance. Your hair was a mess and you're wearing her clothes—her favorite one, the oversized t-shirt clings to the curves of your breasts, revealing the outline of your hardened nipples. The hem barely reaches mid-thigh, revealing your bare legs—and your nude colored panties she herself took off last night.
You march towards her, barefoot, brandishing the application paper like a sword.
“You're 22?!”
“Wha—”
“Your bio says you're 28!”
“Wha—I-I didn't kno—”
“That's bullshit!”
“And I was like...God! I slept with someone who's the same age as my sons.” You mimic the same line you said as you recall the events of what happened weeks ago, sharing every detail with Thena, your best friend. She was in fact, the one who told you to try going on a dating app.
“At least you had a good fuck,” Your eyes widened with Thena's vulgar words but you hesitate for a moment before nodding, your face burning with embarrassment. Because, well, it's true...
“Yeah...it was…” You trail off, unable to meet her gaze.
“Good? Good?” Thena asks pulling the words out of you as she noticed you being hesitant.
“She was so gentle at first, almost shy...let me lead her but once she got going...whew!” You whistled softly, fanning yourself as you laughed.
“And you ghosted her…” You pause mid-laugh at your best friend's reply, you felt like she just slapped the reality across your face.
“I...” you raised your brows, palming your chest as you looked at her, “I didn't, okay, I just left. What would you expect me to do? She lied.” You defend, leaning down to your chair as you glance at your best friend who was eyeing you like she knows all your secrets. And she does though, but not this one.
“She's young, Thena,” you reason, “She'll move on. She'll meet someone new.” You dismiss the idea of Natasha being hurt by your not so sudden disappearance with a wave of your hand. “It's not like we had any emotional attachment or anything. Hell, maybe I am the third girl she had in her apartment that week. Who knows?” You chuckled humorlessly. You really wished you weren't.
“Hm, just fucking.”
“Exactly, just fucking,” you say, mirroring Thena's crude language. “We both needed that at the moment.” You nod confidently, convinced that's all it was—a simple physical need fulfilled, nothing more. But as you continue to talk, a small, secret part of you whispers that it was more than just a physical need. You felt a connection, a spark, something that went beyond the surface level. But you quickly silence that voice, deciding to keep your true feelings buried deep inside because there is no chance on getting back, you had deleted the app so there is no more way to contact her. But going to her place is a different conversation and there is no way in hell you're going to do that.
Sighing heavily, you rub your temples, trying to ward off the sudden headache that's formed.
“Besides, what would my sons think if they knew I was dating someone their age?” you muse aloud, looking at Thena with concern and embarrassment. “They'd probably be disgusted, Thee…I swear…”
“At least you're not robbing the cradle or y'know. It's not like she's underage or anything.”
“Okay, enough, stop justifying her age. She still lied, which I didn't like. I wouldn’t date someone who's the same age as my son and someone who’s younger, period.” You said with a finality making your best friend laugh at your now serious face, she’s really not used to you being like that.
“Gosh, they wouldn't even let me date anyone,” you sighed, slumping back in your chair dramatically, making Thena laugh even harder.
“You’ve got some overprotective babies there.” Thena chuckles between giggles.
You can't help but agree with your best friend, nodding your head in agreement. “Yeah, they are pretty overprotective. I swear, sometimes I think they forget I'm an adult too.” You smiled, remembering that your two sweet boys are coming home today for summer break.
You are excited and all jumpy thinking that every sound you hear is a knock on a door.
You started preparing for their visit, tidying up your home and making sure everything was just right and in place, especially with their bedrooms. The clock ticked by, and soon enough, finally, you heard a real knock towards the door.
With a quick glance in the mirror to make sure you looked presentable, you went to the door to open it. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves, and then swung the door open.
There they both stood, a cocky smile on their face as they greeted you with a casual “Hey, Mom.”
“Hello my babies.” You almost cried on the spot seeing your grown sons.
“Whatchu cookin’ mama?” your eldest, Mark asked, kissing your forehead before entering the house.
“Your favorite beefy creamy mushroom, baby!” You shout.
“I love you so much, ‘ma!”
Before you could even reply, an arm wrapped around you in a tight embrace, and before you knew it, you were being lifted off the ground, your feet dangling in the air. You squirmed playfully, laughing as you tried to put your weight back down.
“Put me down, you little devil!” You scolded lightheartedly, playfully pushing against your son’s broad shoulders, though secretly enjoying the sweet gesture of your youngest.
As he finally set you down gently, a wide grin still plastered on his face, he let out a sigh and looked at you affectionately.
“I missed you so much, mom.”
“I missed you too, Tony.” You cupped his cheek and pestered him with so many kisses making him giggle.
“I...uhh mama, I hope you wouldn’t mind, I am sorry for telling this to you right now. But I brought a friend over, if that’s fine?” you placed your hands on his shoulders, as he looked at you with his usual puppy-dog eyes, “I owe her big time, I was the reason she’s heartbroken and why her favorite shirt is stolen.”
“Yeah, yeah...” you nodded encouragingly to assure him that it's okay to have some friend over, and the mention of a stolen shirt made you laugh—it was silly you thought.
“Yeah, sure baby…you ca—” you trailed off, your world stopping as you saw the friend your son brought over, standing just few steps behind him.
The friend your son brought over was none other than the person who haunted your dreams every night, the same woman you shared a night with many weeks ago that gave you the most earth-shattering orgasm that not even their father could give.
And you found her looking back at you, her gaze trailing down the shirt you’re wearing that was in fact hers.
“Mom, this is Natasha.”
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nathaslosthershit · 3 days
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Some Bad, But a Whole Lot of Good (LS2)
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Summary: To the fans, it wouldn't be unreasonable to assume the week after his replacement had been hell for newly dropped Logan Sargeant, but to the people who knew him, they weren't worried. Warning: James Vowles slander, a lot of it, I made Logan yell at him because I want to yell at him
Getting fired a week before your first child was born wasn't on anyone's bucket list. But here Logan was.
He was mad- no he was furious. Sure, the past few months with the team have been miserable, but this was the worst timing possible.
"Why now? Why not the two weeks we were off on break?" Logan asks yells. He doesn't lose his cool, at least not like this, not by yelling at his boss.
"Logan, you have to understand we are in between a rock and a hard place. I am truly sorry but it's a difficult time for us-" Vowles begins to explain.
"A difficult time for you? I am about to have a fucking baby, James. Next week! What the fuck am I supposed to do?" He got up and ran his hand through his hair. "You just had a baby a year ago, I would have thought you of all people would have thought this through more."
"Believe me, we have Logan, we have discussed this at length for a long time now."
"Oh fuck you! You have been thinking about this for a long time and choose now to do something about it? God, James, why do you hate me so much? I know I haven't met expectations, I know I have fucked up, but I still have given everything to this team and this is how you end it?" he finally met his boss'- ex boss' now, I guess, stare.
As Logan looked at his team principal, he tried to see any remorse or sincerity in his eyes but just as he had suspected, James' apology was bullshit, completely insincere. He knew this wasn't going anywhere, he didn't even know why he was fighting.
Formula 1 had been the dream for a while. Logan had let himself sacrifice everything he could to achieve it. He tried to tell himself that he had made it and that he was happy, but it wasn't true. He couldn't face the reality of the dream he worked so hard for not being everything he had imagined.
After meetings about contract termination and how they were to proceed, a sad little goodbye party filled with people that were probably thrilled to have him go, and an actually heartfelt apology and goodbye from his teammate and those he worked closely with, the American left the factory for the last time.
The most difficult part of this whole affair? Telling his very pregnant wife that he was now unemployed, a week until their first child's due date.
After tears, cursing a certain British boss' bloodline, and dissociative silence, Logan sat next to his wife as she suddenly burst into laughter.
He was stunned, she was practically doubling over, at least as much as she could in her current condition. The sight so ridiculous given the circumstances that he began to laugh too.
Several minutes were spent laughing until their stomachs hurt and then trying to catch their breath before either one of them could say another word.
"This is such terrible timing!" she said, wiping her eyes as she continued to giggle.
"Could not me a worse time" he replied as he started to laugh even harder.
"God, we shouldn't be laughing at this! We have officially lost our minds"
"Perfect timing too! Just like everything else"
It was ironic, this was the absolute worse scenario Logan could come up with but this was also the hardest he had laughed in a long time. When was the last time he actually laughed? The last time he actually felt joy about anything involving his job?
As if she could sense what he was thinking, she took a few deep breaths, finally calming down, as she said, "This is insane of me to say, but maybe this is a good thing?"
He knew where she was going, he thought the same, but he needed to hear her rationalize it before he agreed.
"I mean, honey, you were miserable. And I am sorry because I did love some of the people on your team but most of them were jackasses! It was such a time commitment and you have spent so long giving everything to them just for the team to spit in your face. Plus, with savings and such, we have enough to be fine for a while, even with the baby. You finally can put your family and yourself first"
She was right, it was time he admitted to himself how much he had hated his job in the past few months. How miserable it made him. How he could hardly enjoy anything in his life because he was always thinking of how to improve, how to show he still has potential even with the shitty car he was given.
"Im sorry. I- its not fair that I spent so long chasing a dead end dream that I couldn't actually enjoy what I do have. I mean, I could never race again and I would be 1000 times happier with out little family then I could ever be in F1. I will never not put you both first again." He said as he looked at her, held the bump, and genuinely got to relish in what was to come.
The first race weekend since Logan was replaced, he wasn't stewing in his misery, he was sitting in the hospital next to his wife, holding his first born, and the last thing on his mind was what was happening anywhere else in the world outside of the room his entire life was currently in.
logansargeant
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liked by alexalbon, jensonbutton, and others
logansargeant New job
user1 hey! so this is insane
user2 unemployment has never looked better
alexalbon This is a crazy way to hard launch fatherhood but good on you, mate!
logansargeant got to keep them guessing
user4 dilf era yes please
oscarpiastri how long is the contract?
logansargeant full time for 18 years, then after there is a bit more leeway, but there is certainly no retirement in my future
user3 replaced right before he had a BABY?! oh that British fuck better watch out
jensonbutton Such a big moment! So happy to see where life takes you, I know it will be great!
A/N: Had to finish this right after the news he is testing for indycar in november dropped!!! U-S-A U-S-A!
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simplygojo · 3 days
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I Like Your Tie...
A/n: OMG ONE OF MY FAVS REQUESTED! I loved this request; thats why it took SO LONG I’m sorry my friend I hope you enjoyyyy!! <3 I needed another Nanami request so bad so you did me a favour with this one, LOLLL.
Request: “Your last Toji fic got me frothing like a rabid dog. Lol. in all ways it was very uniquely him indeed ! The same for Gojo and Witch!Reader. Could I shy request a fic with the song 'Talk' by Hozier paired up with Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader ? Something sensual steamy but ever so romantic for the blonde? I can practically see him saying or thinking such lyric quotes as "I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things we'd do... So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you. Imagine being loved by me". May she's a fellow Special Grade sorcerer, and their friendship keeps building up, but neither wants to cross the line ? So they dance around it, until something happens ? Idk. >\\\\\\\\\\\\\\< I'll leave it to your artistic hands and imagination what to do with this? If you feel inspired to. In any case, please delete if this seems rubbish. Anyway, thank you for your stories ! Thank you so much. ♡” - @erebus-et-eigengrau (lurvv uu)
My requests are always open :)
Pairing: Kento Nanami x f/reader
Word count: 3.8K
Warnings: 18+ Content, SMUT!, intercourse, light choking, control kink(ish), pet name
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The late-night quiet of Jujutsu High was comforting in a way—no students rushing through the halls, no teachers around to monitor. You had been grateful for the peace, retreating to your room after a long day.
But as you reached your door, you stopped in your tracks.
There he was. Nanami Kento stood in front of your door, leaning casually against the wall. 
You and Nanami had been friends for what felt like a lifetime, though it all began back in high school. Back then, you had a bit of a crush on him—not that you’d ever admit it. He wasn’t the type to flirt or give much attention to relationships, but there was something about him that always caught your eye. 
You had your moments, too—shared laughter, and private conversations late into the night, when the walls between friends almost seemed to blur. 
But Nanami never made a move, and neither did you. You knew how seriously he took his role as a sorcerer, and you didn’t want to complicate your friendship with feelings that you weren’t sure were mutual.
As you both graduated and eventually became high-level sorcerers, those moments of potential intimacy became even more distant. You grew into your own roles, taking on increasingly dangerous missions and fighting curses that most could barely comprehend. Nanami was often assigned to the same missions as you, his calm, steady presence a source of reassurance when things got chaotic.
There were times when his professionalism would slip, just for a moment. A fleeting look, a brush of his fingers against yours, his voice dropping an octave when he spoke your name. You always wondered if he felt it too—that same tension you tried so hard to ignore. But you never dared to ask, afraid of what it might mean if the answer was yes.
And now, standing in front of him in the quiet after everything that had just happened, you realized just how deeply those old feelings still ran.
There were times, though, when your old crush resurfaced. 
Sometimes, it was the way he’d look at you across the battlefield, silently checking to see if you were okay, his eyes filled with a concern that was more than just professional. Other times, it was the rare, gentle touch when he’d help you after a fight—his hand brushing your arm or waist as he steadied you after a particularly tough encounter.
But you always pushed those feelings down, refusing to acknowledge them for the sake of professionalism. 
The sorcery world didn’t leave much room for distractions, and you knew that Nanami was as dedicated as ever. He was the picture of control, never letting emotions dictate his actions, always focused on the mission at hand. You convinced yourself that whatever crush you had on him was just remnants of your high school days, a fleeting fantasy that had no place in your current life.
His arms were crossed, his tie long loosened, and the top buttons of his shirt undone. The dim lighting of the hallway cast a shadow over his sharp features, making the intensity in his eyes even more pronounced. He looked every bit the composed man he always was, but something about the way his gaze followed your every movement made your heart stutter.
“Nanami…” His name left your lips in a quiet murmur, not expecting to see him there, not like this.
“You’re out late,” he observed, his voice steady but lower than usual, as if the stillness of the night demanded it.
You nodded, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. “Well, one of the first-years wanted some late-night training…What are you doing here?”
He didn’t answer right away, eyes flicking down to your lips before settling back on yours. 
You could feel the tension in the air, thick and palpable, making it hard to think clearly. His usual restraint seemed to falter, just slightly, but enough to make your pulse race.
“I was waiting for you.” His voice was steady, but the words made your breath hitch.
Your heart pounded in your chest. 
“Waiting for me?” You said quietly, a heat beginning to pool between your thighs.
Nanami pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer to you, his movements deliberate. The space between you closed as his tall figure made its way toward you—the tension that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks finally came to a boil. 
“Why were you waiting for me..?” You questioned, “I need to talk,” He responded, his voice barely above a whisper.
He was close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, the faint scent of his cologne filling your senses.
“I used to try to talk so refined, in fear of you finding out…” He admitted, his voice lower now, almost rough around the edges. His eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. 
“Finding out what, Nanami.” You breathed, watching how his lips parted just slightly while he paused. “How I’ve been imagining you." 
The air between you was thick with tension, so heavy you could almost taste it. Nanami stood inches away, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. His normally professional demeanour had cracked, revealing something raw, something primal. The careful distance you both had maintained was no longer there.
"Imagining me…?" You repeated, your voice barely more than a whisper. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you were certain he could hear it.
Nanami’s eyes darkened, and his gaze roamed over you in a way that left your body practically squirming under his scrutiny. His jaw clenched for a moment as though fighting some internal battle, but when he spoke, his voice was low and hoarse, filled with a desire he was no longer trying to hide.
“Every time I look at you,” he confessed, his hands flexing at his sides, like he was resisting the urge to touch you, “I think about how you’d feel under my touch… under me.”
Your breath caught, your throat suddenly dry as his words sank in. The image of his hands on your skin, the weight of him pressing against you, the feeling of him between your legs—it sent a wave of heat through your body, leaving you borderline trembling with anticipation.
“Nanami…” you whispered his name, your voice trembling with the same desire that was now coursing through you. The distance between you felt unbearable.
The professionalism you both held onto so tightly was crumbling, and the temptation to give in was overwhelming.
The hallway was too quiet, too intimate, and it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away. It was just the two of you, standing there on the precipice of something dangerous and irresistible.
“I won’t deny I’ve got in my mind now all the things we’d do,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper as his thumb traced your jawline, gently tilting your head with two fingers. His eyes darkened with want, and the weight of his words hung heavily in the air.
That was all it took. The pull between you snapped, and before you could think, your hands were fisting in his dark blue shirt, pulling him down to meet your lips in a kiss that was heated, desperate—inevitable.
His hand swiftly opened your door before pushing you into it, causing both of you to stumble into the dimly lit room. With a loud thud, Nanami kicked the door shut before pushing you back up against your entryway wall.
Nanami groaned softly into your mouth—your pussy practically throbbing at the sound—and his hands immediately wrapped around your waist, tugging you closer as if he couldn’t stand the idea of any space between you. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that you hadn’t expected, and it left you breathless.
You gasped when his hands gripped your hips firmly, pushing more firmly against the wall. The cool surface against your back was a stark contrast to the heat that radiated from him as he pressed himself closer, his lips never leaving yours.
His kisses were deliberate, slow—but rough—as if he wanted to savour every moment of this. 
"Mmf…Nanami," you breathed, pulling back just enough to look at him, your lips swollen from the kiss, breathless. "What are we doing?"
His forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged as he looked down at you. There was something raw, unguarded in his expression. “What I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”
Your heart fluttered at his words, and before you could say anything else, he was kissing you again, deeper this time. “Now be a good girl for me, y/n.” He practically purred against your lips, as he lifed you so your legs wrapped around his waist. 
His hands moved with more confidence now, sliding up your sides while you were pinned against the wall, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You tugged at his hair, your fingers desperate to feel more of him.
His hands, rough from battle and years of work, were surprisingly gentle as they slid beneath your shirt, fingers brushing over your painfully hard nipples, teasing you. You arched into him, your body responding to every touch.
He made quick work of your jacket—and that tiny tank top you wore underneath it, his hands roughly reaching for every bit of exposed skin.
Nanami growled softly with your legs wrapped around his waist, his lips trailed down the column of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that had you moaning his name.
"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, his breath hot against your neck, but the fire in his eyes told you stopping was the last thing he wanted to do.
"Don’t," you whispered—pleading with him for more, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. "Don’t stop."
Nanami’s eyes darkened further at your words, and a slow, subtle smirk spread across his lips. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. 
His hand moved up to the tie hanging loosely around his neck, fingers working quickly to loosen it even further. Before you could register what he was doing, he slid the tie off entirely, his movements deliberate and slow as he looped the fabric around your neck.
The silk felt cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body. His eyes never left yours as he gently tugged at the tie, pulling you closer, the pressure on your throat light but enough to send a thrill through you that went straight to your now-soaked pussy.
“There,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over the side of your neck as he admired how the tie looked wrapped around you, it falling on your bare chest. In a moment, his lips were back on your skin, trailing lower this time as his free hand continued to explore your body. He kissed a path down to your chest, the tie around your neck tightening just slightly as he pulled you even closer.
He brought you to the couch in your small room with one hand while the other held the back of your head as his tongue explored your mouth.
“You look so beautiful like this, do you know that, y/n? With my tie around your pretty little neck…” He murmured against your skin, his voice laced with raw, unfiltered need. 
Hoisting you up onto the back of the couch, his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your skirt, fingers brushing against the wetness between your thighs, and the contact made you gasp. 
With one swift but gentle movement, Nanami slid your skirt and tights down your legs, and now you sat in front of him—completely vulnerable.
“Nanami—” Your words were cut off by a moan as his fingers returned, pressing more firmly, the slow, torturous circles he drew making your entire body tremble. The tie tightened just a fraction more as he leaned back to look at you, his thumb brushing against your clit in a way that had your heart racing even faster.
“You’re so responsive for me,” he growled softly, his fingers entering your dripping cunt slowly, making sure to feel every inch of your interior. “It’s driving me insane.”
You could barely breathe, the combination of his fingers between your legs and the light pressure of the tie around your neck leaving you a trembling mess in his arms. You clung to him, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as you fought to hold on, your body betraying you with every ragged breath and every desperate moan.
"Nanami, please..." You barely recognized your own voice, hoarse and breathless as you begged for him.
He smirked against your skin, clearly pleased by your reaction. “You want more, don’t you?” He asked, his voice thick with amusement, but the tension in his body told you he was just as desperate as you were.
You nodded, your head falling back as your body arched into his touch. “Please…”
The sound of your begging seemed to snap something in him. With one swift motion, he lifted you up with one arm and spun you around before setting you on your feet in front of him, your ass pressing up against his bulge as the cool leather from the couch pressed against your lower abdomen. 
He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as his fingers slipped inside you again, making you gasp loudly at the sudden (welcomed) intrusion. 
“I want to hear you beg for me again,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin as his fingers moved with agonizing slowness, teasing you, driving you to the brink of insanity. His other hand subtly undid his belt, lowering his pants just enough to expose his desperate cock.
You moaned, arching into his hand, your body betraying you as it responded to every touch, every whisper of his breath on your skin. “Nanami...hmmf…please...I-I need you in me.” You managed to get out between moans.
“That’s it,” he growled, his fingers exiting you, but they were quickly replaced by his dick as he inserted himself into you—feeling you stretch around him caused him to throw his head back in pleasure, and he gave a little yank on the tie, your head jerking backwards as your stomach pressed harder into the couch, provoking a pornographic moan to exit your lips.
“Fuck,” he growled, his breath hot against your skin as he buried himself inside you, again and again, each stroke thrusting deeper into your gummy walls, sending waves of pleasure through your body. “You feel so good.”
His pace quickened, and the slow, deliberate rhythm gave way to something more primal and desperate. His control was slipping, and you could feel it in every rough thrust, every growl that rumbled from his chest as he claimed you completely.
The tie tightened again, the silk digging into your skin just enough to heighten the pleasure, and the sensation sent you spiralling toward the edge. Your body trembled beneath him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you gasped for breath, the intensity of it all overwhelming.
He leaned forward, the new angle allowing him to go even deeper into you. He gently moved your hair off of your shoulder as his delicate fingers traced the border of his tie and your skin. “You really are such a good girl.”
His thumb pushed into clit as he thrusted into you at a dominating pace—the sensation was nearly enough to push you over the edge—but you held on a little longer. You cried out his name, your entire body shaking as his pace quickened, he tightened the feeling around your throat with the tie around your neck pulling you closer to him.
Nanami’s body moved behind you, the warmth of him pressing against your back as his hands gripped your hips. Bent over the back of your couch, with the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your flushed skin. “Mmhf–Nanami…Oh please.” You moaned out, practically begging him for more as he fucked you with a controlling pace
His breath was heavy, ragged, as he leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, making you feel the sheer size and strength of him as he dominated you completely.
Nanami’s fingers wrapped around his tie nicely wrapped around your neck, pulling it taut. The sensation made you gasp, your head tilting back slightly as the silk tightened around your throat just enough to send a jolt of pleasure through your already overstimulated body. Suddenly he took his soaked dick out of you letting it land on your ass, rubbing his hand over the smooth skin.
“You look just perfect like this,” he growled low in your ear, his voice thick with lust as he tugged the tie just a bit tighter, your chin tilting up as he whispered in your ear. “Bent over—begging for me.”
Your legs trembled beneath you, your body quivering with anticipation, but before you could respond, he was inside you again. 
The stretch was immediate, deep, and overwhelming as he thrust into you from behind, filling you completely with a single stroke. You cried out, your fingers gripping the edge of the desk as he pulled you back against him, the tie keeping you tethered, under his controlled.
“Nanami…” You moaned his name, your voice barely more than a breathless whisper as he began to move, his hips snapping against you in a relentless rhythm. Every thrust was harder than the last, his grip on the tie tightening with every movement, pulling you back into him, forcing you to feel every inch of him.
His pace was brutal, his control slipping entirely as he watched the way your body reacted to him, the way you moaned his name with every stroke. His free hand found your hip, gripping you so tightly that you were sure there’d be marks tomorrow, but the thought only sent another wave of arousal through you.
“You feel so good, y/n,” he growled, his voice rough as he leaned over you, his lips brushing against the back of your neck. “My good girl...”
His words are what sent you over the edge, the stimulation of your orgasm turning your vision white. 
Your body was on fire, every nerve alive with pleasure as he drove into you again and again. The tie around your neck tightened even more, the pressure just enough to leave you lightheaded, completely at his mercy. You felt every inch of him inside you, the sound of skin against skin filling the room, along with your breathless moans as pleasure washed over you.
Nanami's body pressed closer as you shuddered beneath him, the waves of your orgasm still coursing through you. 
But he didn’t stop. 
Even as your body trembled, oversensitive and breathless, he kept thrusting into you with the same relentless intensity. His pace didn’t falter, and each stroke seemed deeper, more demanding, as if he couldn't get enough of the way you clenched around him.
Your moans turned to gasps as pleasure mixed with the overwhelming sensation of him continuing to push you past your limit. Your fingers clutched at his back, nails digging into his skin with a painful force, but he didn't slow down. He leaned over you, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and ragged.
“Look at you, taking it so well," he groaned, his voice dark and full of praise. "You feel so good, I don’t want to stop.”
Your legs shook around him, your body still pulsating from your release, and the overstimulation had you crying out, your nails leaving marks along his back. 
"Nanami... please..." you gasped, unsure if you were begging him to stop or to keep going. You felt like you were being consumed, every nerve on fire, and yet your body responded to his touch, desperate for more.
He shifted slightly, angling his hips to hit that perfect spot inside you with every thrust, his hand still pressed firmly against your clit drawing rough circles. The tie around your neck tightened just a bit more, enough to remind you of the control he had, the control you were willingly giving him.
“I’m not done with you yet," he growled, his thrusts growing rougher, faster, his body taking full control over yours. "You can come again for me, can’t you?"
You didn’t know how it was possible, but the overwhelming pleasure began to build again inside you. His touch on your clit was insistent, his hips snapping against yours in a rhythm that left you breathless, teetering on the edge of something even more intense than before.
Your body trembled beneath him, the overstimulation and pleasure merging into something maddening. Every nerve was alight, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control. You were already too sensitive, your mind spinning as he pushed you closer and closer to the brink once again.
Nanami could feel it—he knew exactly how close you were, how your body tensed around him. His lips brushed your ear as he spoke, his voice low and commanding. “Come for me again, y/n. I want to feel you fall apart around me baby.”
With that, his fingers pressed harder against your clit, and his hips slammed into you at a brutal pace, each thrust sending you spiraling further out of control. The pressure inside you coiled impossibly tight, and with a cry of his name, you shattered once more, the intensity of your second orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.
Your body shook uncontrollably, your moans turning to sobs of pleasure as you convulsed around him. The sensation was too much, too overwhelming, and yet you never wanted it to end. Nanami’s name fell from your lips like a prayer as he continued thrusting into you, his own breathing growing more ragged, more desperate.
"That's it," he growled, his voice thick with pleasure as he watched you unravel beneath him, his pace rapidly increasing. "So fucking beautiful."
He wasn’t far behind. The way your walls clenched around him, the way you shook with each thrust, sent him over the edge. 
His pace grew erratic, his grip on your waist tightening as he buried himself deep inside you one last time, groaning your name as he came. He tugged at the tie harshly, yanking you up form your bent over position so yoru back was against his sweaty chest, his hand gently holding your chin up. 
“You were so good for me,” he breathed, his voice hoarse, igniting a spark in you again. You remained silent for a few moments, breath staggered as you tried to catch it, still shaking with pleasure as he held you upright in front of him. 
Finally, you opened your mouth to speak, a cheeky smile playing on your lips, “I like your tie…”
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descendant-of-truth · 13 hours
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That said, I do think that Shadow Generations being such a more carefully cultivated exploration of Shadow's past compared to what the original Generations was for Sonic is... not doing Sonic himself any favors
General audiences are already kind of under the impression that Sonic as a character is fundamentally not that deep or interesting, and Generations was written during a time that really, really wanted to prove that notion right. Sonic "being deep" was what, seemingly, caused so much critical backlash, so to counteract that, they gave us the blandest cutscenes Sonic has ever had the displeasure of being in.
But that's not really what Sega is trying to push for, now. Frontiers wanted to be more serious, with a mature, down-to-earth Sonic. The movies gave him an origin story that inherently makes him a lot more complicated than usual. Prime put the focus on his emotions and gave him a character arc that lasted the whole show. The IDW comics can get extremely serious, and we're treated to Sonic's inner monologue as he wrestles with difficult choices. They clearly want Sonic as a character to be interesting to people, not just a vehicle for action and quips.
But putting the old Sonic Generations in the same package as the new Shadow Generations is inherently portraying them as equivalent experiences. When Sonic explores his past, it's no big deal - just another day on the hero job! Absolutely nothing worth exploring on his end when it comes to meeting his past self and revisiting his memories! Nope! No need to use time travel as a way to explore his core values as a person who prefers to live in the moment and not be bound by his past, no siree!
Oh, but Shadow? Now that's the actually interesting character! Revisiting Shadow's past is such an exciting event that it requires the whole year to hype up, and Sonic's just so boring in comparison, isn't he? Who really cares about Sonic beyond his surface-level characteristics anyway, right? The Sonic Generations remaster is more of an accessory to what's essentially Shadow the Hedgehog 2 at this point, and that bothers me.
Sure, Sonic doesn't have "a backstory" like Shadow does. But the past that we explore in Sonic Generations isn't his literal origins, but all the adventures we went on with him. Imagine how much depth you could wring out of him if you just took those events as being legitimate parts of his life that he has feelings on! Feelings we could explore!
But because it's a remaster instead of a full-blown remake, all of this effort they're putting into Shadow's campaign is nowhere to be seen in Sonic's. Can you imagine how good of a package deal this would be if Sonic's character was given this much care and respect, too? Like, we have two Sonics, but Shadow is getting more than double the favoritism.
And the fact that this is only going to continue to push the idea that Sonic is just. incapable of being interesting, or even really affected by what happens around him is really frustrating. We already have the movies and Prime drastically changing his demeanor and core traits for the sake of making him "able" to have character development, and as much as I love those versions as characters, it's really doing a disservice to who Sonic is supposed to be.
The last thing we need is for Generations to come out again and make the Sonic from the games seem like the least interesting version of him. Bringing Shadow up should not involve dragging Sonic down - they're supposed to be equals. But this game doesn't seem to be showcasing that very well, on account of essentially being two games written by different people haphazardly mashed together.
People being introduced to the series through this game are going to have such a skewed perception of what Sonic is like as a person, as well as what he's like compared to Shadow, and that just. makes me kinda upset not gonna lie
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yamysunmoon · 1 day
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Princess's reward
Summary: You've been Jenna's lover for a few months now. You meet in hotel rooms whenever you can. Jenna is promoting her latest projects in Venice when you decide to pay her a visit.
Words count: 5-6k
Warnings: MDNI +18, d/s dynamic, sub! Jenna, stone top Y/N, choking, clothed sex, dirty talk, crying during sex (a little tear), praise kink, kinda bratty.
n/a: Verbal consent. First one shot in tumblr and english is not my first language :) hope you enjoy!
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You were scrolling distractedly through social media when a notification popped on your screen. Jenna had posted photos.
More than Jenna herself, her team, you thought. Even so, you clicked immediately with a slight tension of anticipation growing in the lower part of your belly.
You watched each photograph closely. Jenna posing on that red carpet in that red dress. Her lips, also bright red, the wavy lines that traced her hair, her bangs forming a beautiful arc over her forehead. Her smooth and delicate skin, her mouth displaying that perfect and relaxed smile, those adorable dimples. You kept zooming in on each photograph when a new notification arrived. She had posted another update.
A smile was now forming on your lips. Jenna drinking coffee with those sunglasses and that t-shirt and that pose and those jeans. You remembered those photos perfectly. She had sent them to you the day before.
You sighed, looking out the airplane window. Glacing at your vintage silver wristwatch you noticed there were only 20 minutes left to reach Venice. Unable to resist the temptation, you opened your messaging app.
Hey my dear, barely 20 minutes to get to the airport.
Saw the instagram pictures btw. That dress suits you perfectly, you look beautiful.
She should still be at the interview she had told you about hours earlier, you guessed. She had sent you her full schedule as soon as she got to Venice, days ago. You loved it when she gave you all the information you needed to know where she was, and when, without even have to ask for it. Her complience made you go nuts sometimes.
You could imagine how tired she must already be, with it barely being 10 in the morning. She had been going back and forth for days promoting her new projects, attending interviews and public events of various kinds. You recalled in your mind her voice over the phone the night before, the way her raspy voice spoke to you, whispering how much she missed you and how little she could bear it. You had been waiting for this moment for weeks.
You were surprised when a vibration on your cell phone snapped you out of your thoughts.
Jenna: hey my love. Charlize will pick you up as we agreed. I think I'll be able to make it to the hotel on time. I can't wait to see you.
A sly smile graced your face. The first few times you two started texting, you were insecure about Jenna's style of writing. No emoticons, dry expressions and full stops. You soon learned a lot of things about her tho.
When she's at work and finds a few minutes to be able to text you -she makes that time to text you-, she doesn't even realize she sounds so "serious".
But then, when the nighttime comes and after taking a long bath, with her bathrobe still covering her body, she calls you, asks you animatedly how your day has been and reminds you how much she wants you, all doubts dissipate.
You decided not to reply to that message to heighten the anticipation. However, even though you were able to control yourself in action, your mind could not do the same and began to recall your previous encounters. The first time you met in that private area of one of the most exclusive clubs in L. A., when Charlize, her most trusted bodyguard, picked you up a few streets over and took you to her. How she waited for you with her legs crossed and those black stilettos, and one of her irresistible black suits.
Memories of that first night began to play out in your head without any censorship. Her sideways smiles as she teased you, the way her cheeks took on a light pale pink with the hints you murmured near her ear so she could hear you over the music. The way her nails grazed your arm for the first time, to, hours later, scratch you all over.
Her eyes, oh, her coffee brown eyes. Steaming, hot brown coffee. Chocolate eyes melting, dripping all over your body, ogling every nook and cranny and every detail they could absorb. She was looking at you in a way that you had never been looked at before.
"I'm starting to want you more than I can handle" she had whispered to you, after a couple of cocktails and too many leers. She had moved dangerously close to your ear to utter those words, then pulled away just enough to look deep into your eyes, raising her eyebrows slightly, looking down at you. A gaze that suggested some desperation and a lot of willingness to be blown away.
You then realized she was handing the power over to you. She was letting you decide if you were ready to commit to this madness with her. Things had changed since that night, but back then she was proposing that night. That's all you had: one night.
You plopped down on the headrest of your comfortable seat in the VIP area of the plane in the same way you had settled that night, months ago, on the pillows of her bed. The sensation of her warm body on yours invaded all your senses. Her legs around your torso, her hands on the back of your neck. Your hands caressing her tummy, then going from her upper back to her shoulder blades. One hand going up to her nape, pushing her to your lips. The other groping the elastic of her suit pants, asking for permission. You remembered perfectly her whisper, barely a strand of voice leaving her red, maroon lips.
"You can do whatever you want to me".
You smiled mischievously and opened your eyes, shaking your head. It wasn't really "whatever you wanted," but rather what the two of you had agreed upon in endless conversations before you started seeing eachother.
Meeting people backstage in the celebrity world had never suited you as well as when you got to meet her. A few minutes backstage at a random event, which led to following each other on Instagram, which led to getting her number, which led to intimate messages late at night.
Conversations about power, control, and seduction. You told her about submission. She started by joking about it, saying that she could never let anyone have that kind of dominance over her. She went on to say that maybe you could. She ended by asking you to accept hers.
You continued to learn about the d/s dynamic together, and agreed on initial boundaries and desires. Promises of what you could do to her, and be for her. Of the way you could put her mind and body at ease. Of the way you could set her free. And that night, in that LA hotel, you put them into practice. And boy, did you both like it.
Now you looked out the window and noticed that the hard concrete of the landing zone was getting closer and closer. You couldn't suppress a shiver that ran through your whole body, you didn't know if it was caused by the imminent landing or the imminent encounter with your precious submissive. Deep down you knew.
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You walked through the front door of the hotel without any problem. The few people who should know you could pass knew that. Everything was handled as subtly as possible, protecting the privacy of the person they worked for, following her orders.
You were presented with stairs covered with a beautifully red carpeted floor. You climbed them on your way to the elevators that could be seen at the back of the entrance. One of them opened and Winona Ryder stepped out. You crossed paths but only dared to give her a brief smile, without looking directly at her. Had Jenna told her about you? You weren't used to running into celebrities from time to time. Charlize stood next to you.
“Surprised, huh?”
“She's a legend,” you said in a whisper of restrained excitement. She chuckled under her breath. She walked you to the open elevator and pressed buttons 4 and 5.
“You get off at 5. Room 513. She arrived about 15 minutes ago” she reported looking at her wristwatch. You nodded. There wasn't much more to say.
You could have engaged her in friendly conversation, but you could only watch the elevator screen indicating how you were getting on. Silently. This always happened to you; you were in that moment before you saw her in which your thoughts, actions and behavior were all directed towards her.
The doors opened on the fourth floor and Charlize said goodbye to you with a brief bow, you nodded in farewell. The doors closed and you felt yourself ascending a few more feet. Ascending towards your personal Heaven.
You stepped out of the elevator at a steady pace. You felt the weight of your whole body on your black military boots, you felt the skin rubbing against each garment you were wearing. You readjusted your watch, the one she had given you, and repositioned the necklace you were wearing, also a gift from her. Maybe she was your submissive, but you were her property.
“513” the plaque read. You gulped and touched up your hair, which you wore loose. One more shaky breath before you knocked softly on the door. Two sure knocks, as always.
“Come in” you heard from inside. Oh, that voice. You turned the doorknob without any hesitation.
You found yourself in a spacious room. The floor was covered with the same red carpet that protected the entire floor of the hotel. To your right, large windows lit up the room, but someone had already covered them with thick, translucent white curtains. In front was the king sized bed with an ornate wooden headboard. The room was chaste and classically decorated, in the most typical Viennese style.
It didn't take you long to notice that just before the bed someone had placed a low table that probably wasn't meant to be there. On it various plates with fresh fruit, freshly baked croissants and macarons in various pastel shades.
From your left you heard the sound of water running. You approached. To the right was a dressing room, and to the left was the door leading to the bathroom. A half-open door separated you from your girl.
“Babe, can i come in?”
“No!” she reacted instantly. “Give me a few minutes” the sound water running ceased. ”Go eat something, I got it for you.”
“Okay milady” you replied teasingly, earning a short sardonic laugh from her. She would always need to be fully prepared before seeing you, everytime to met. You found it really cute, yet kinda incomprehensible.
You would remind her that you had already seen her without all of that, without being THE Jenna Ortega, but simply Jenna, she would just smile shyly and confess that she wanted to be perfect for you. “At least before you ruin me completely” she used to add.
You went back to the master bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. You smiled as you realized that Jenna had wanted to place the table as close to the bed as possible. You both knew brunch wouldn't last long.
You had caught quite a few planes for her lately, and she always greeted you with a big feast of her own preparation. You decided to grab a fresh strawberry from the fruit platter, feeling its juices expand in your mouth. You wanted to have the perfect taste when Jenna came out of that bathroom.
Strolling your gaze around the suite, you noticed a scarlet red suit folded on a chair, along with underwear and black platform heels resting next to it. You didn't have time to discover much more before you heard the door open. A broad smile appeared on your lips as soon as you saw her.
She was wearing a black and red plaid corset and matching skirt. Her hair fell straight and shiny over her shoulders, and a deep red lipstick highlighted her lips. She looked at you with those dark eyes, adorned with a subtle touch of eyeliner and mascara.
“Sorry babe, you know i don't usually keep you waiting”. Finally, her voice came directly to your ears, without having to go miles from cell phone to cell phone.
Your eyes sparkled. "This time I'll give it to you," you conceded, assuming that slightly permissive role she liked so much on occasions like that. Your rules were strict but you both got a kick out of cheating from time to time.
You remained motionless as he approached you. Only a small twinkle in her eyes gave her away. She came closer until she was standing in front of you and your hands were resting on the bed. You looked down at her. She looked back at you and smiled showing those beautiful teeth.
An almost imperceptible nod from her gave you permission to wrap your arms around her waist in a needy embrace. You rested your head on her abdomen and it wasn't long before you noticed her hands stroking your silky hair.
“Ugh... how I've missed you” you confessed against the fabric. Your choked voice rumbling against her gut. She breathed in deeply in a way you interpreted as relief. You heard the air rush into her body.
“You're finally here” she sounded calm, peaceful. At ease.
You lifted your head and rested your chin on her belly. With your hands you caressed her lower back. She looked down at you from above and smiled. “You look incredible” you spoke softly, as if you wanted to prevent anyone from overhearing you.
Everyone, literally the whole universe knows that Jenna Ortega is gorgeous and looks amazing, but no one was lucky enough to contemplate her as you were at that moment.
“That's why I like to get ready before seeing you,” she said insightfully. You smiled slightly and your hands descended to her ass, which you squeezed gently. She gasped and closed her eyes. Involuntarily she moved her hips towards you. You rested your forehead on her skirt and breathed in her scent. That expensive and elegant perfume mixed with her own scent emanating from her skin....
“Let's eat something” she proposed pulling away from you abruptly and sitting down next to you. You blinked several times and looked at her. She was smiling flirtatiously. She loved to keep you waiting.
She decided on one of the freshly made croissants and that's when she saw the bitten strawberry on the table. She rose her gaze back at you. “Are they yummy?” she then noticed your lips, reddened by the juice of the fruit.
“Try it yourself” you challenged her. She raised her eyebrows. She seemed to hesitate for a few seconds during which she alternated looking into your eyes and at your lips. She half-opened her own, surely imagining your taste in those moments. Finally, she took a bite of her croissant and chewed slowly. Then she offered you a piece. “Try this and I'll try the strawberries” she resolved. Captivated by her charm, you laughed at her joke and agreed.
You switched the sour taste of the red fruit and the enveloping sweetness of the croissants with a relaxed conversation. She asked how your flight went and wanted to know more about everything that had happened to you in the previous days. Every evening you talked on the phone but she was usually too tired to pick up specifics. Then you asked her about the interview, which had been with Winona and you also talked a bit about her.
You loved the way her eyes sparkled in admiration of her partner. She kept yapping about her co-workers and the movies they both liked, smiling sideways when she remembered funny anecdotes on set, frowned adorably when reminiscing about confusing and amusing moments and she giggled softly when you blurted out wry and witty remarks.
You were drawn towards her. Everything she did seemed appealing to you. Every move, every gaze, every smile. The way she gestured with her hands, how she crossed and uncrossed her legs, how she tilted her head, and how she scrunched her nose. The freckles that dotted her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose called to you, it was urgent to kiss them. She kept talking but your attention had reached its limit.
Suddenly she stopped and looked at you. A teasing smile decorated her appetizing lips. “What are you doing so close?” she inquired curiously, looking you up and down. You then realized how close you have got without even thinking it through. It was quite literally that you were drawn towards her. Like the Earth is drawn towards the Sun.
You let out an airy laugh. “I didn't even realized” you confessed amused, running your gaze over her torso. That damn corset was distracting you. She smiled sideways, revealing a lovely dimple. God, Jenna and her dimples.
You watched every detail of her face closely before finally looking into her eyes. You were getting closer and closer. Yet she wasn't moving an inch. There was nothing she liked more than to tease you until you took the initiative. There was nothing she liked more than to show herself completely ready for you. Waiting for you.
After a few torturous seconds that felt like forever, Jenna looked at your lips. She licked her lower lip lightly, and the warm pink of her tongue contrasted with the maroon of her lips. Her gaze returned to yours, locked together.
And finally, a slight, very slight nod subtly ruffled the strands of her bangs. You gasped. You had permission. You couldn't wait any longer.
You ended the distance between the both of you and drew her closer by resting your hand on the back of her neck and pulling her in a demanding gesture until your lips met at last. You made a superhuman effort to stifle a moan of satisfaction. She, however, did not hold back and let it out, free, from between her teeth, as her lips parted allowing your tongue to conquer her mouth.
You engaged in a wet, perfectly pulsating kiss. Your kiss swayed between a sweet, rhythmic softness and an anxious, slightly desperate depth. Jenna pulled her body closer to yours and placed her hands on your abdomen, pulling your shirt towards her. She needed you, she needed you badly, but you wouldn't touch her until she begged.
You kept kissing her, wanting to express the latter with your lips, and she was quick to get the message. You could feel the trembling in her hands gripping your shirt, and your bodies were so close that you could feel her thighs coming together and parting just enough, in an urgent gesture.
Your breaths were quickening, so you slowed down the kiss. Your tongues caressed each other and she relaxed her whole body, welcoming you into her mouth, letting you take control. Your hand was still on the back of her neck, guiding her and turning her head slightly at your whim. She kept tugging at your shirt, tugging at you. She wanted you all over her.
Her breathing kept quickening even though your gestures were slow. You kept each other at bay. She would decide the starting gun, but nothing else would happen unless you dictated it. You were kissing her lips carefully when she parted only a few millimeters.
The look she gave you seemed even sad. “Y/N. Please. I beg of you. I want you so much i'm about to cry.”
Her eyebrows rose through the thickest area in an almost pathetic gesture of desperation. Her eyes were watery, dulling her already smoldering brown gaze. The brown of her iris was actually darker at that moment, like a beautiful pyrope stone.
You were lost in her gaze as she alternated looking at you in one eye and the other, in silent questioning. Her lower lip trembled with frustration. You almost felt sorry for her, how much she wanted you.
“Can I take you, then?” you asked at last, controlling the tremor in your voice admirably. You were dying for her too, but you had to show temperance for both your sakes. You were the one who held you both as you fell into the void. You had to be. She had to be able to fall into you. And there was nothing you longed for more.
She nodded fervently. You raised an eyebrow and lowered your head slightly in a serious gesture. “Are you capable of handling me?” you inquired insistently. Her hands, which had remained loyally attached to your shirt, ascended to your shoulders. You glanced sideways at them before looking at her again.
“I am ready to have you” she assured in a sentencing tone.
You looked into each other's eyes and found it. That look in her iris. That way in which, paradoxical as it seemed, she was able to demand that you possess her. Her way of offering you her submission, in the most dominant way.
It was as if time stopped for a few seconds before you pounced on her like a predator on its prey. Your hands traveled to her waist lifting her up and carrying her to the bed as your tongues met again.
You held her firmly and carefully, but dropped her onto the mattress allowing her body to crash against it. Her eyes widened in a gesture somewhere between surprise and excitement. In the process of the fall she was forced to release her grip on your shoulders, and now her hands held her on her palms. You watched her as you kneeled on the bed. She placed her legs on the sides of your body, tilted her head and raised an eyebrow delightfully. She smiled showing her teeth a little.
There was something so romantic about her submission to you. The way she surrendered not just her body but her whole being to you. The way her eyes looked at you, through you, not just with lust but with complete trust.
You would do anything for her.
You crawled up to her and kissed her again, slowly. She lifted her hips toward your body. You put a hand on her waist and pushed her back on the mattress, firmly. She stifled a moan into your mouth. She finally agreed to lie down and you directed both hands to the belt of her skirt. She put a hand on your chest, you stopped instantly in anticipation of some boundary. Instead, she parted just enough to look at you. “Maybe that's not necessary” she suggested in a seductive smile.
You scrutinized explanation in her gaze with a frown, confused. She lowered her gaze to her skirt in response. Could it be...?
With your hands you descended to her thighs, which you squeezed, and went upwards. She raised her knees, bent her legs, and spread them. You looked at her as your hands slipped under her skirt. You stifled a deep sigh as you found her luscious wetness already bathing her labia majora and even a bit of her groin. No panties. You pulled one hand out to grab her neck in a passionate kiss, while the other yielded to her charms and began to give her exactly what she needed.
“Baby, how wet you are...” you praised between kisses. You kept holding her neck in a solid gesture and she placed her hand over yours. You squeezed lightly, fulfilling her silent wish. The cold metal of your watch contrasted with her warm skin.
“All because of you. Its-for y-you. My beloved” she admitted worshipping you with that hard, wet look. Your massage on her cunt deepened.
“Do you respect me so much? Are you so obedient?"
She nodded and pressed your hand. You squeezed a little tighter, testing her limits. You weren't kissing her now, she needed to breathe. You both knew that if you kissed her the air could barely cross her throat, and yet she raised her head, longing for your lips on her.
You kept looking at her, waiting for something more. Your hand was still working under her skirt and her hips followed your rhythm with gusto. Was there anything she wouldn't do for you?
“I want...” you began, and your thumb ran along her cheekbone, her smooth skin. She watched your lips listening to every word you uttered. “I want you to touch yourself. I want to see how much you want me in you. You have to earn it.”
Her lips opened slightly, letting in air. She was breathing through her mouth, and as you loosened your grip thinking maybe it was too much, her hand squeezed yours again.
“I can do it” she assured referring to both your command and your grip. She then released your hand and began to roam her own body with it, descending to under her skirt. Her gaze descended with it and you could appreciate the length of her thick eyelashes. She began to stroke her clit while you focused on massaging her entrance in circles. “I can do this and much more, as long as I have you...” she breathed ‘in me" she looked up into your eyes.
You finally broke the distance that separated the both of you so you could kiss her face. She closed her eyes tightly trying to manage your caresses, your kisses and your strong grip on her neck. She closed them so tightly that a furtive tear escaped from her tear duct. You kissed her, her salty desire made liquid reaching your lips.
“Precious princess...” you whispered, and kissed her chin. She lifted it a little so you could continue touching it with your lips, and in those she slightly moved her whole body as well. She unintentionally brushed a knee against your crotch. You jumped with a start and opened your eyes instantly.
“S-sorry, didn't mean to-”
“It's okay. You may touch me” your voice was hoarse and your eyes had probably darkened, the way she was looking at you. Her free hand ascended to the nape of your neck and caressed under your jaw. You nodded to underline your conviction, so she moved her leg again without taking her eyes off you. You adjusted yourself against her knee until the friction was perfect. You raised your eyebrows in surprise.
Jenna knew she couldn't stimulate your cunt directly. You had always been very clear about this, and she had always respected it. On occasions like that, however, even a girl like you would welcome a touch like that, over your clothes.
You needed no more to feel yourself melting over her. You released your hand from her neck, much to her disgrace, and kissed her deeply. You lowered your kisses to her neck and noticed that there was a shallow reddish imprint of your fingers. You stopped your kisses. “It can be hidden with makeup, Y/N” she resolved, reading your thoughts. “Please don't stop” she whispered. You smiled and drew a line of saliva down her neck, the muscles of which ticked as she lifted her head to receive you.
Underneath her skirt, your fingers were still massaging her without entering her yet.
She was rubbing urgently. “Slow down” you commanded. “You are not coming till I say so” you reminded her.
She gave you an annoyed, almost hateful look, drawing a sly laugh from you. “Damn you...” she muttered coming closer to your mouth. You pulled away a little preventing her from kissing you.
“Uh?” you stopped your touch on her cunt and with your fingertips you traced her labia minora at a torturous slowness. “What did you say?” you lifted your hips pulling your own crotch away from her knee.
You could see how much of an effort she had to make in order to stay still . She gulped, alarmed.
“I apologize,” she said instantly. “Damn me. Ruin me, Y/N.”
“Are you going to behave?” you asked somewhat angrily. A mixture of indignation and disapproval permeated your words.
“Yes” she granted instantly. “I can prove it to you” she added, willingly. She was trying to convince you. "Please, forgive me".
You moved closer to her and she looked at your lips. You rested your crotch on her knee again and she let out a sigh of relief over you.
“I know you can do it. But are you going to?” you inquired feigning skepticism. Now that you were close, you noticed she had stopped masturbating. You knew then that she wouldn't continue until you told her to.
“Yes, my beloved. I am going to do whatever it takes to fulfill your desires” she pledged complacently.
You granted her a laddish smile at last and resumed your massage on her body. “That's how I like it, my princess... You look so gorgeous when you are this obedient” you reaffirmed satisfied, indeed.
You continued your touch whispering praises, massaging her tits with your free hand, over the corset. She removed her hand from your neck and grabbed the fabric of her corset. She looked up at you, “Pull it a little down for me” you whispered. She managed to pull it back just enough for her dark areolas and erect nipples to show themselves to you.
You contemplated her for a few seconds, she moved her fingers over her chest in a distracted gesture. She adored being admired by you.
“Beautiful creature... Show yourself to me” you demanded in a hoot. She lifted her head almost instinctively, as if it were possible to expose herself further.
You attacked her skin with restrained excitement, it was hard to hold back when she got like this. Her collarbone ready to be bitten by you, her breasts exposed and her clothes still covering her body, but with nothing to hide. You ran all over her chest drawing incomprehensible strokes with your lips to anyone but the two of you. You whispered praises incessantly, and she answered with moans of pleasure and choked moans.
“Don't hold it back. Don't hold yourself back, princess. Give it all to me” you encouraged her. “Gorgeous girl...” you continued, and this was the only time she allowed herself to interrupt you.
“Your gorgeous girl” she shamelesly corrected you in a desperate whine. “Your gorgeous girl. As you are my beloved, i'm yours. Im enterely yours.”
She dared to look at you shyly suddenly, for she knew she was bordering on the limits of your agreement. “My beloved lover” she said anyway. She was submitting to you in the most vulnerable way. And oh, she was getting rewarded.
You smiled softly and entered her in response. She closed her eyes and threw her head back moaning your name. She kept whispering that she was yours as you kissed her and she rode you, wiggling her hips deliciously against your fingers.
As she wiggled she massaged your cunt with her knee. You also moved against her, slowly feeling the consciousness leave your body. You attacked her tits, her chest and her neck in equal parts. You caressed her whole body and the cold metal of your watch caressed her curves. Your silver pendant brushed against her skin. She trembled beneath you, closer and closer to the precipice.
Your hand ascended to her collarbone and she caressed your palm, closing her eyes and sighing completely transfixed.
She opened her eyes slightly and looked at you. She was watching you in a way that only she could see you.
“Time stops when we are together” she confided to you in a tone of secrecy. At that moment she was caressing your watch. “I bought you this watch so you could count minutes while we are appart. But it all dissapear when we meet”.
Your fingers were deep in her, you moved in and out slowly and carefully, just as her words were coming out of her mouth. She let out a moan from the effort, she was having a hard time holding on, she wouldn't last much longer.
She looked at you again and it was all it took for her to take the watch from you in a single gesture. In a mocking fit, she held it between her teeth smiling at you. She raised an eyebrow. Irresistible.
“My gorgeous girl. Mine” you dared to say. She half opened her mouth in wonder, and the watch fell to her neck. You brushed your nose against hers in a barely perceptible caress. A delicate display of affection as, under her skirt, your fingers moved in and out of her inner lips at their whim, at just the right speed and pressure. You swayed against her knee and her hand rubbed her clitoris eagerly.
“Am i touching myself how you want me to?” she asked as she realized you noticed her speed.
You nodded and penetrated her as deep as you could. “Yes, princess. You're behaving so well for me. You're making me feel so good... Are you gonna cum?"
“I'm so close” she assured closing her eyes. You took her chin and she opened her eyes. “I'm gonna stop if you quit looking at me. Don't stop looking at me.” She bit her lower lip, looked at your lips and stifled a moan of frustration.
“I don't want to lose detail of your expression when you cum” you admitted in a whisper. She agreed with a look.
“Please, please Y/N... Kiss me afterwards” was all she asked.
“Of course, my dear” you granted instantly. She was your spoiled princess.
Her body trembled barely a minute later and she let herself be carried away by you as she drenched your fingers in a glorious orgasm. You rubbed against her until you released yourself, and continued to wiggle against her as you kissed her, as she requested. You slowly pulled out of her and interrupted your kiss to take your fingers into your mouth. You sucked them down their full length under her watchful and satisfied gaze.
“Hm... So Delicious” you praised, once again.
She gave you one of her irrisistible smiles.
"Just for you".
87 notes · View notes
trulyumai · 1 day
Text
Fall Baking
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pairing: eddie munson / gf! reader
synopsis: it was finally fall. more rain, more sweaters. this also meant the return of the infamous, ‘Hawkins Fair.’ eddie could care less about it really, but you were ecstatic.
warnings: none, fluff only!
A/N: im baking like crazy right now so this automatically came to my head. I’m ready to drown in pumpkin bread and warm coffee.
Eddie knew you loved the fall.
When the leafs started to turn, the weather getting colder and sbittier than normal, yeah, that was when that thing happened to your eyes.
They’d get all shiny and well, cute.
He was the opposite. He could do without the hindrance of rain bearing against him anytime he wanted to take out the trash or walk to the corner store.
But seeing you so happy about little sprinkles of condensation made the man weak.
So he detested the cold weather a little less for you.
And you know what the cold weather brought?
Fall excursions.
Aka: The Fair.
“Guys, you’re not gonna believe this!” Slamming your lunch down on the table, your body molded against his in one solid motion.
Eddie grunted out in surprise, but it didn’t stop you from talking about the surprise you had in store.
“The fair is coming back!”
Only stares were given, Gaven looked over at Jeff who was returning the same empty, confused look.
Eddie jumped in with a clearing of his throat, being the best boyfriend ever he had to save the day, right?
“No way, baby!”
“Way!” You giggled, relaxing into Eddies hold as you dug out the celery sticks in your little box.
“And, the school is accepting student stalls, that’s gonna be so much fun!”
“Why is that fun— ow!” With a harsh kick to Gavin’s knee, Eddie changed the subject.
“That’s cool babe, you could do a baking themed one. Your treats are to dieeeee for.”
“Oh yeah! Been a while since I got the iconic Mrs. Munson brownies,” Gavin sighed out. Already imagining the pillowy, chocolaty goodness that was always oozing with warmth.
“That’s not what I named them.” You laughed, “Buuuut if you boys help me out with the stall I promise to bake one thing if your choosing!”
This garnered the attention of the hellfire club fast. Eddie was almost jealous at how entranced you got everyone.
“Anything?”
“Can you do cakes?”
“Ooooh the brownieees!” Almost everyone talked over one another, already fantasizing about the treats they’ll ask for.
“Uhhhh babe?” Eddies rings were cold against your thighs, your dark green skirt rid up against the tops of his legs, showcasing your pretty and soft skin.
“Mhm?” You replied, already turning towards your wild haired boyfriend.
“And what do I get? I mean I love your baking, obviously! but I can get that anytime.”
That was… true.
Damn it you thought you had everyone sinched into the plan. But of course Eddie would try to sneak something else into play.
“Well ummm,” he stumped you this time.
Furrowinf yoyr brows you bit lightly on the inside of your cheek, racking your brain for anything Eddie might approve of.
Clothes? No, Eddie only wore his favorite staples anyway. Maybe you could offer to clean his room? No, you just did that last weekend when he was snoring on the couch.
Think, think!—
“I know what I want.”
You knew that tone. That deep drawl that makes his voice come out in a low, teasing hush.
Eddie indicated you closer with just a wag of his index finger.
You felt the weight of his breath hit the side of your face, warm and light.
“I want,” he breathed in this time, dragging his lips closer and closer until they brushed against the side of your jaw.
“You, to spend the night, every nite this week.”
“Eddie!” Rolling your orbs you pushed his face away. “That’s kinda impossible. You know how my parents are—“
“Pretty please, sweetheart? It’s been forever!”
“I just spent the night on saturday!”
“That was literally forever ago.”
“Eddie.” Your fingers brushed with his temple, lightly pushing against them.
“That was two days ago.”
He only shook his head in rebuttal, moving his legs until your frame was once again close to his.
“My point still stands. Forever ago! And you need my help, who will keep these idiots in check?”
“Hey!” A few club mates responded back, but quickly went into their own baking conversations.
“Not all week. Two days,”
“Three!” Eddie challenged. With a mocking squint to your eyes you huffed out a breath.
“Fine! You win. Three days.”
“Yes!” Eddie cheered, smothering a sloppy kiss on your cheek and raised a hand to high five Gavin.
What a dork.
“You won’t regret this baby. I just got new snacks, cleaned my room—“
“You cleaned your room?”
Eddie cleared his throat and his long fingers came up to play with the loose hair around your neck.
“Well.. no, but it’s still clean from when you did it— ouch!”
Grabbing the man’s soft cheek, you began to pull.
“Hey hey, easy easy, I was just joking!—“
“You’re such a dork, Eddie.” Laughing, you watched as his fingers came up to the pinched spot, rubbing it with a soft tenderness like you had plucked the skin right off his face.
Grabbing at your celery you joined into the groups conversation. Trying to remember each and every goodie the gang wanted you to bake.
This is gonna be a long week.
But at least it’s fall, right?
….
Right..?
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sepublic · 2 days
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            King was definitely under the impression his dad was dead once he learned who his dad was; But can you imagine him finding out his dad WAS alive, the whole time, watching him??? Only to learn that the Titan died, was murdered by Belos as that fucker’s last victim; Yet another genocidal bastard contributing to the Titans’ demise, and further cementing it because now King truly IS the last of his kind. King hoped his dad was out there, then had to cope with him being dead… Then had to cope with finding out he was there, but by the time he got this revelation and could appreciate it, NOW he was gone. Now he was deceased.
            King couldn’t appreciate even a second of knowing the Titan was still alive and watching; That realization was only posthumous for him. There was magic there, magic King took for granted because it was a gift from a Titan, but he didn’t know it was dependent on his dad’s life; That it WAS his dad’s life in his hands and he could’ve engaged with it, felt his dad through him, but now it’s gone before he had the chance to embrace it. King has his own magic to share with others, but that’s not the same as his dad’s life supporting him, and him and Luz know it when she explains why the glyphs no longer work and what that means.
            There was a tangible life present to engage in, there was a tangible beating heart King could’ve listened to; How did he feel seeing Belos latched onto his father’s heart like a parasite? I’m glad he splattered Belos’ brains beneath his foot, made fear and pain and humiliation the last thing Belos felt. Imagine King just grappling with a newfound grief, after already going through it the first time, because that bonding and love DID get to be there. And King had said hurtful things about his father not knowing it. His dad died not knowing for sure if King or his loved ones would actually be safe, if the Titans would get to live on, if his own body would be left un-desecrated, etc.
            The love was still being felt for so long, and King only got to learn about and reciprocate it when it had died minutes ago. The realization that he had it all along came with the realization that he just lost it. Imagine King reflecting on this, the realization, and then the grief afterwards, in the aftermath of the final battle, during the rebuilding, etc. Just this sense of knowing there was still a way, an option, after all; But he lost it and didn’t find out until afterwards.
            Imagine King crying and enraged, at the unfairness of it all, wallowing in bitterness and self-pity because goddamn is this child, this genocide survivor, owed that!!! Maybe he almost feels a bit of resentment deep, deep down that Luz got to meet his dad, but not King; But then King immediately admonishes himself for thinking that, Luz only got that opportunity because she died and his father gave one last gift in giving King his sister back, not letting him lose another loved one who chose to love him!!!
            I want King to ask Luz, again and again, about his dad; I want Luz to draw the Titan as faithfully as she can, and she’s shown she can do that. I want King to see her memory photos of the Titan. I want King to hang up a copy of those memory photos, to have one by him at all times. I want him to honor his father’s magic and each glyph, learn every combo for its sake and mourn the ones lost to time, as King develops his own magic to honor his dad. I want him to grieve and have that grief be appreciated by the fandom, too.
            I’m glad that the Titan’s love still came with one more message, thanks to his sister’s thoughtfulness; A reminder that the love was still always there and DID get to exist while King was alive, that his dad got to see King alive, that King got to feel his dad’s love as a living being, and not just as an egg. King only got to have one message, one actual sentence, only a handful of words from his father to King himself, but they counted. It isn’t much in terms of communication, but it’s such a thoughtful, perfect expression.
            He received that love as King, as the person he was, and his dad still got to see King thrive; His dad received that love and saw and felt it when King hugged his bone. They reciprocated. The Titan died, but was hoping and believing it would continue. And maybe the Titan still got that confirmation because while we saw his spirit pass on, maybe that bit of power left in Luz was a sentient remnant, aware of the triumph and happy ending when Luz released it.
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            I’m glad King got a bread pun.
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blackberries45 · 2 days
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Time to Pay Your Dues (Beetlejuice Drabble)
Beetlejuice x reader
Notes: Mentions of bra/underwear/boobs but no gender mentioned.
Spelling and Grammar ain’t my thing, chicken wing.
No Smut but implied heading that way
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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The first time you really did catch him off guard. He was too busy staring to be able to stop you before you said his name thrice. Now he was just biding his time. You hadn’t caught on yet, but you weren't faster than him in the least. He was just letting you play this little game. He knew it had to be benefiting you in some way and it most certainly was benefiting him. A dead guy can only take being teased for so long though.
For weeks you've been playing a nasty little game with Beetlejuice. The first time you pulled it after a mischievous thought had popped in your head stepping out of the shower. Just as you were wrapping yourself with the towel, you called out his name. He was so caught up in the moment of seeing you starting to drop the towel that you banished him as quickly as you had summoned him. You cackled all the way to your bedroom and the game began.
You had managed to do it three or four times more. Each time either in a compromising position, like leaning over to grab something off the floor and your butt in the air or were in the middle of changing. You even managed to ask him once while putting on a dress if he thought it was pretty before sending him off again. You knew it couldn't last long but it lasted a lot longer than you thought possible. This time had to be the last. You could only imagine what he’d do if he stopped you from saying his name and sending him back.
*****
The matching underwear set was hot and you knew it. You had never bought yourself anything that looked quite like this before and currently had no one to share it with. Truthfully you bought it just to pull this last tease, if you were being honest with yourself. This would be it. The grand finale. It was perfect. He would lose his ever loving stupid little dead mind and you couldn't wait to watch his face. You positioned your hair and pulled your boobs up in the bra cups. Next you adjusted the panty straps just perfectly on your hips, approving of the view in the mirror. It was clear by now that Mr Beej didn't care about your stretch marks or your weight, he devoured you visually just the same each time. God you'd be thinking about this forever. Was this little game starting to turn you on? Before you lost your nerve and talked yourself out of it, three times that ghoul’s name left your lips.
Usually Beetlejuice's preferred method was to startle you or at least appear somewhere unexpected. This time, he was right in the doorway where you had hoped he would be. He was leaning against the casing perfectly, with one boot resting against the bottom of the door frame and his other leg slightly forward to push his weight back. Removing the cigarette from between his lips, he ever so slightly started to turn his head. If the light hadn't been just right to catch the glint of his blue eyes, you wouldn't have noticed that he was drinking you from the bottom to the top. Nothing about him moved besides his eyes and a slight flick to his cigarette. He took another drag and let it out, staring at you now. The gulp you made was audible and you were starting to lose your nerve.
“Do you, uh, do you like it? I got it on sale. I've never bought myself a matching set like this before but I figured it deserved to be seen by someone else who would appreciate it” The nerve came back and the smugness dripped off of you as your head slightly tilted to the side. The corner of your mouth started to go up in a slight sneer. You knew in half a second what you were going to do but truthfully you were expecting a little more reaction from him. This was taking away from the game. Was he disappointed? As the excited smile started to fade, the words started forming in your mouth but he already knew what was coming and was prepared.
Instantly what felt like a shoelace tied your lips together. You put your fingers up to your mouth in pure surprise, eyes wide as you started to panic. Beetlejuice turned away from you, taking another puff of his cigarette and letting you mumble under your restraint.
“I think I've had enough of your little game there, babes” He flicked the cigarette somewhere unseen and started walking towards you. You couldn’t help but feel some tingle of turn on even as your protesting noises became louder. Pulling at your lips you found an end that you could start to pull. You looked down at your fingers as you started to yank on the string. Before you could continue however, in one snap of his pale long fingers, you heard the bedroom door bang and suddenly you were slammed into it. His hands were on your ass as he pinned you up against the door. You couldn't help but brace yourself on his shoulders and your face bent down to his. Still wide-eyed and but mouth no longer sewn shut, you gulped again.
“I don't like being repeatedly teased without a payoff. So honey, it's time to pay your dues.” He leaned into your neck, kissing it lightly once and enjoying feeling you shiver. “Good thing you bought this on sale” he snapped your underwear band with a lazy finger against your ass “because it won’t even be worth free when I get done ripping it off you”
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Let's spice up the SAGAU world with this idea. The reader is NOT The Creator, yet is a higher being that the characters refer to as "The Player". How would characters interact with the person who commanded them from above? And what if you still had the power to control them?
For this example, I would include Kazuha and Yanfei because they are my king and queen of my account.
oohhh honestly i feel like they would worship or think of the reader in the same way as they would worship their Creator.
Like, imagine Player! Reader playing Genshin on their phone and just absolutely fawning over Kazuha. "Oohhh look at my pretty boy…" you would mumble, and on the inside, Kazuha is flustered with that comment but always has to act like he didn't hear it. He can't see you, but he could always hear your voice… It's angelic, sweet… Calming to the ears.
When you control him, he feels calm. Kazuha fully trusts you in whatever you do.
What if Player! Reader is the type of player that just keeps yapping and commenting for no reason at all. Player! Reader is just roaming around and keeps spouting nonsense like Kazuha would say his usual line of "There are leaves around, and I know just the tune to accompany them, if you want to hear it." you would reply with "Of course baby girl hit me with it.". Or when fighting Hilichurls you would just spout filler nonsense like "HELL YEAH!! TAKE THAT BOZO!!" or "Mhm, get swirled mother fucker." while using Kazuha's skill.
Imagine Player! Reader gets a cutscene with Yanfei in it and just screams her name out of pure joy. On the inside, Yanfei is surprised but very much overjoyed with your enthusiasm. Every time Yanfei said a line, you would always comment "Yep, speak your truth queen." or "You're so right." and whatever anything just popped up in your mind.
Yanfei loves listening to you talk, although she unfortunately couldn't see you… The sound of your voice is forever engraved in her mind… She doesn't mind getting controlled by you, she knows that you were just trying to make things better for her.
But… What if… Player! Reader gets transmigrated not as a Creator, but as just a normal person… You're so fucking confused as to why you're suddenly in Liyue… Oh god… Why the fuck are the guards pointing their spears at you?!
"Who are you???" They asked with a glare, "I-I uhh… Uhh…" you stuttered, "They don't look like they belong here." one of them whispered. Before the situation could even escalate, a familiar voice spoke out. "What's going on here?" someone asked. You knew that voice…! It was…! Yanfei!
The guards of Liyue got out of her way and Yanfei got a better look at you, she looked at you from head to toe… Confused about your different type of clothing… "I swear to God I also don't know what's happening right now…" you spoke up as you held your hands up.
Yanfei's eyes widened, "Y/n…?" she muttered, recognizing your voice.
But what if it was Kazuha who met you first? Well, imagine Player! Reader wakes up and sees that their surroundings are different. "What the fuck??" you mumbled as you soon realized you were on a boat. But what boat…? Also, why were you even in the somewhat basement of the ship?
"Who are you?" a voice spoke up, it was familiar but it sounded stern. Your breath hitched to see where it came from… It came from… Kazuha? Now you're just confused…
"What the fuck…? Am I seriously in Genshin impact right now…?? IS THAT FUCKING KAZUHA?!!?" You blurted out the last sentence it hit you that it was Kazuha right in front of you! You let out a gasp and covered your mouth.
His eyes widened, "Are you… Y/n?" he asked.
I think it's safe to say you aren't worshipped by the NPC's but you are however treated well and worshipped by the Characters.
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lotuseye · 3 days
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yes, satoru, i will - it's the day of the parade.
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satoru  gojo  and  his  special  grade  sorcerer  ex-wife  are  assigned  to  a  mission  together. part ii , trash magic.
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word   count:   1566.
genre:   multi-chapter.
characters:   satoru gojo & special grade sorcerer ex wife.
trigger   warning:   none.
he is every bit of an annoying ass she remembers him to be.
it was a hard, long, thorny process - her learning curve embarrassingly flat when it came to satoru who indulged himself lavishly with the fruit of being the only person she had ever feel seen with. on par, with. understood with. it had not been what she had pictured for herself, for either of them, to end up with an entire hall filled with things they no longer spoke of, oceans stretching for thousands of miles between them. it wasn’t the divorce, not really - there would have been no divorce in the first place if he was capable of the same empathy she had felt in their youth, or at least what she thought to be empathy, when after loads of paperwork signed seemed like the whim of a teenage boy who did not understand what kind of a commitment he was getting himself into.
now, she could not call satoru someone that could not commit, that could not dedicate, when she has watched him work tirelessly year after year all for a better world for them. when he religiously waited upon suguru, when he stood tall against the upper echelon and when he decided to return to jujutsu high as a teacher, having found his hope in the young. he became the benefactor, mentor, older brother, father - whatever his students needed him to be, without complain, without hesitation. how could she, when he brought megs home, the boy of six with his father's eyes and his zenin pride? no. if she could say that, everything would be much simpler. less filled of heartache.
satoru was perfectly capable of dedication, commitment, and effort.
just not for her.
“ i am going to say something, but i don’t know how well you’ll take it. ” she spits out what she had been imagining rolling out of her tongue for the past half and an hour. she had time to ponder on their walk in the star corridors, having decided to start with the most reasonable option, which was talking to tengen to see if they had any inkling on the problem. that, and also simply checking on them would not hurt, especially considering the unstable frequency of the barriers that kept them all safe and sound, suppressed the emergence of cursed spirits and let the world become a more breathable place for sorcerers, even for a brief moment.
“ look at you considering my feelings, ” pleased and still lighthearted despite the alarming situation at hand, she doesn’t need to look over at him to know that he’s grinning. he wouldn’t, if he knew that she was about to open the box of pandora, but it was what it was - the hazardous bliss of ignorance. she can already taste the regret, bitter in the back of her throat like her very own curse to swallow. footsteps slowing down, yet not coming to a halt, keeping her gaze on the dimly lighted marble.
“ do you think it might have anything to do with the last star plasma vessel? ” she asks, and as soon as it leaves her mouth it sounds like a sane thing to ask and the most horrendous memory she could have brought up for him in the first place. his infinity almost buzzes in her ears, as she ruefully endures the sudden cold that creeps on her bones. he knows what she’s talking about, of course he does. the day he came home with that hollow look in his eyes, the very look that haunted him for years to come. riko amanai’s death cost them a lot more than they could afford, an entirety of a class disintegrating over time, a painful decay & an eventual dissolving in the unforgiving waters of grief.
“ it has been fine over a decade, ” satoru is not offended, but perhaps it would have felt better if he was - anything would be better than the self-hatred that dripped like the petals of a belladonna from his voice, shame and guilt so unbecoming of him. “ if something was wrong, wouldn’t it show itself sooner? ”
a valid question, to which she doesn’t have an answer to but a shrug, now feeling like she’s brought it over for nothing. “ you’re probably right, ” she concludes, now a lot softer than their initial greeting. it can’t be helped, the tenderness she had for him would survive foes greater than anger or disappointment. they were no longer children, and they knew better than to sulk over the unfortunate circumstances they have had to navigate in life. satoru, despite the intentional reservation on her part, was too precious to be discarded with so little care. he had been her best friend, once. “ i’m sorry, i was just thinking about what might have triggered this. ” she offers an apologetic glance, and it is satoru’s turn not to return it, keeping his head straight on the tiles that thud under their each step. “ nah, don’t be. what happened, happened. if you have a point, we can’t ignore it. anyway, ” he grasps the two handles of the doors that lay across him, and pushes it open. “ we’re about to find out. ”
.....
good news was that it wasn't what they feared.
bad news was that it was something much more difficult.
“ any clues on how to get this over with? ” she asks to the six eyes, steps much faster than the ones that brought her here, wishing to be done with the place as soon as possible. tengen creeped her out, and the tomb of the star corridor very shockingly did not make it to the list of her top ten vacation destinations. something about the energy that accumulated in the room overwhelmed her, dialed up to eleven, each cell buzzing with the overload of cursed energy. “ because i don’t know how we are supposed to figure out the problem of tengen glitching because they are losing their touch with humanity. what do we even do? take them outside to go touch some grass? take them out for dinner, roll them up in tinder? ”
he is laughing, and it is absurd - so absurd that she smacks him in the shoulder. “ don’t laugh, ‘toru, this is serious! ” but even as she says it she can’t help but snorting at the visualization of her own suggestion, tengen taking a stroll in the park, waiting for a blind date in the restaurant in the corner. “ tengen in tinder? ” he is still chuckling, and the sound is preciously kept and saved in-between her ribs. “ what does their bio say? foundation of jujutsu society, likes ping pong and fishing? ” and now they are both laughing, and as idiotic as it sounds, she does not remember the last time she laughed in satoru’s presence. “ shut up, satoru, ” she snorts once more, letting the last lights of the day blind her momentarily as they walk out of tengen’s quarters. “  good to know that you’re still an idiot. ”
“ an idiot who you still call ‘toru, ” he drawls out, nudging her ankle with his foot, teasing & coy. she offers him a knowing look. “ old habits die hard, ” she shrugs. “ don’t get any ideas. ”
“ alright, alright. ” hands up in surrender, it takes him a moment to realize she is walking over to the limo that has been waiting up front, the engine starting at the sight of her. she doesn’t need to look over to know satoru is trailing behind her with an arched brow. “ calling it a day already? rude of you to leave me alone. ” she turns halfway just to arch an eyebrow. “ some of us don’t have rct to reset their cooked brain, six eyes. us humble mortals need their beauty sleep to stay so brilliant. ”
before she is done with her sentence satoru’s heavy palm slaps the roof of the car, lanky frame doubling over to take an intrusive peek inside the driver’s seat, ijichi’s meek sound of terror muffled through the windows. “ ijichi, get the fuck out, ” satoru yanks the driver’s door open, gesturing the man outside with a far-fetched grace. “ i’ll be driving her myself. ”
“ but… but the orders were clear… ” ijichi trails, stammering, eyes finding the expected guest of the ride to which the woman replies with placing a soothing hand on his shoulder. “ it’s okay, don’t worry about it. i’ll give you a call when i need you, yeah? ” the urge to apologize on behalf of her ex husband is strong, but if she had attempted to apologize from every single person satoru was rude to she’d never get anywhere ever - so a kind smile is all that is offered and ijichi knows better than to push around. with a nod, he disappears from the sight of them in mere seconds, leaving the estranged couple. satoru, pleased, slides to the other side of the car to now pull the passenger door open, hand extended to her. “ may i take you to your hotel, ma’am? ”
the grin that curls the corners of her maroon glossed lips is absolutely diabolical. “ who said i’m staying at a hotel? ” just the look on his face is enough for her to break it off with a pat on his shoulder, cracking a bright and amused grin, slipping inside the seat. “ i’m just fucking with you, drive me to shoko’s. ”
“ you are not seeing the pearly gates, woman, i tell ya'. ”
© written by lotuseye. do not translate or copy my work.
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bluebirdinhissky · 3 days
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A best friend’s duty is to help you when you’re having a nightmare. Hyunjin x fem Y/N. My usual disclaimer, english is not my first language, sorry for the errors!.
Hyunjin woke up when he felt a smack on his arm and then an elbow blow to his stomach. Such a rough way to be waken up but he didn’t open his eyes; she had the habit to move a lot in her sleep and change positions quite often and it would not be the first time his best friend punched him by accident while moving in her sleep. He was still so tired from his trip to Milan, that he didn’t have the strength and will to go back to his room last night when they were pretending to watch a movie together but in reality he was telling her all about the after party. He thought about how much fun it was but he couldn’t deny, he would’ve loved her to be there too. He tried not to think too much about it though, he was very well aware of his feeling for her but he was trying to ignore them because he didn’t want to start acting awkward and ruin things. He then thought about how Changbin’s first question when he arrived to their home was “did you bang any model?” with a grin on his face. Hyunjin snorted at the thought. He could have, but no, he prided himself on being faithful to her even if he hadn’t confessed yet and even if she might not want him the same way. His heart belonged to her, and his heart would not let his body be with someone else.
His thoughts were interrupted by a moan, which made him open his eyes but he was too shy to look at her. It was not the first time they’d slept in the same bed, it was something that would happen often because they were used to have late night conversations or art sessions until they were too tired to go back to their own bedrooms. He knew she didn’t talk in her sleep and she had never made a noise before. He remained still and barely breathing. Maybe he heard wrong.
Another moan. He couldn’t believe he was actually listening to the sounds he had only imagined and daydreamed about. He licked his lips and bite at them. The bed mattress moved next to him and he knew she was moving restless. Was she awake and touching herself, or was he dreaming?. He blinked repeatedly while the mattress was still moving and she was now whimpering. For a few seconds, Hyunjin was lost in the sounds she was making until he felt and saw her arm moving and accidentally smacked his own arm again. He looked at her. She had her eyes closed, sleeping, obviously having a nightmare. He felt guilty for not looking before and instead enjoying the noises.
“Hey” he said and shook her shoulder while hugging her, “hey, wake up, it’s okay”. He shook her again and felt her body trembling underneath him. Her hands reached to his shirt and tugged it hard, she was breathing fast.
“Hyunjin” she whispered slowly and very quietly, her hands released his shirt and desperately looked for his hands.
“Shhh, it’s okay, you’re awake now and you’re with me, nothing will harm you”, one hand remained on hers while the other caressed her hair.
She closed her eyes, moved his hand and placed it on her chest, right where her heartbeat was. Hyunjin could lightly feel the beating as he was trying to concentrate not to get hard at the wrong moment, but having his hand so near her boobs made him nervous. He really tried to focus on making her feel better.
“Let’s do a breathing exercise, okay?”
She nodded.
“Breathe in…” they breathed together, “hold it, and breathe out”. He paused for a moment and repeated the same words. He felt her hold in his hand over her chest soften. After repeating the exercise for a while she was breathing normally.
“Thank you”, she told him quietly while burying her face in the crook of his neck. His arms embraced her.
“You’re welcome. Any time. I’m here” he whispered to her, “what were you dreaming about?”. The moment the question left his lips he felt guilty for bringing the topic to conversation, but he wanted to know everything about her.
“I don’t know…” a sigh escaped her lips, “I think… I was drowning”.
Oh right, he remembered she had thalassophobia. His guilty feelings came again when he also remembered the joke he had said last night about how her bean bag in the dark looked like a big shark opening its mouth ready to devour her, but surely a shark joke would not give her nightmares, right?.
“Well, you’re safe now. I will not let you anywhere near the sea”, he said jokingly and she giggled. He looked at her intensely for some seconds until she covered his eyes with her hand. It’s a habit she would have whenever he looked intensely at her for several seconds, and that would make him laugh, knowing he made her nervous when he was acting cute on purpose.
“Stop”, she laughed and removed her hand from his eyes. Hyunjin’s eyes were still fixed on her. He smiled and she closed her eyes.
“Stop what?”, he said, moving his face closer to hers.
“Stop acting cute. You always do that”
“I can’t help it. I AM cute”, he said in an overly confident tone and then laughed at himself. His confidence made his face move even closer to hers.
“You’re cute to everyone”, she said softly while moving her face slightly back.
“You think so?” He moved his face back too, cocky smile gone. He bit his lips. Something in her tone made him feel like she meant he was a flirt, and he didn’t want her to think that because it was not true, he was hers. “That’s not true”, he tried to defend himself.
“You’re cute to the Kids and to Stays”
“Well… they’re family. Of course I am cute to them” he smiled again.
“So I’m family too?”
He wanted to roll his eyes, because yes, she was close to him that way but no, he wanted her differently. He wanted her the way he’d never want anyone else before. But he couldn’t tell her. Not yet.
“Humm no?… like, you are my best friend”, he gave her the best smile, knowing that he might’ve screwed things by labeling her officially as best friends.
“Best friends then” she smiled and returned her face to be hidden in the crook of his neck.
Hyunjin hated not having the courage to confess yet, but hopefully, he would do that soon.
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trippinsorrows · 2 days
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are jey's kids really bad or is that just roman being a grump?
oh no, they are bad. lol you ever seen bebe's kids? imagine that.
something like this....
-----
"i want the shipment moved no later than—" the sound of an object crashing and shattering interrupts roman, the speaker shutting his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.
third.
this is the third goddamn interruption in under half an hour, and there is no doubt in roman's mind that the cause is the same as it was the prior two times.
and judging by the look on jey's face, he thinks the same too.
standing up, he turns his body toward the house and calls out, "hey, what ya'll doing!"
jimmy snorts and takes a sip of his beer. "ain't it obvious? breaking shit."
jey shoots his twin a look that's the equivalent of 'shut the fuck up' as jey moves onto requesting the presence of his unruly children. "ya'll, get out here now!"
at that, roman scowls. "can't you go to them?" roman could go the rest of his life without being around jey's children, and having already had the displeasure of interacting with them twice today thus far, he's reached his max.
jey starts to offer a rebuttal, reminding his cousin that it was roman who wanted to have the meeting at someone's place other than his. something about the twins being 'destructive'.
it's not like they didn't pay for the repairs on the maserati.
roman grabs his own beer, downing the rest as one by one, the result of jey not being smart enough to use a condom—all four times—come running out, mischief written all over their faces.
but, jey is more focused on the black eye on one of his kids, the matted hair of another, and the small cut on the eyebrow on a third kid.
"what the hell done happened to ya'll?" he doesn't wait for a reply, reminding them, "jordan, were you trying to kill josiah again?"
jordan looks just as unremorseful as he feels, defending, "he deserved it!"
at that, roman actually agrees. out of all of jey's wild offspring, josiah has always been the most irritating.
he probably had it coming.
"how many times i gotta tell ya'll? you can only beat each other up to fight, not to kill!" jey blows out a breath, hands over his face. he sounds as exasperated as roman feels. maybe it's worth whatever destruction his cousins cause to just have meetings at his house. that's not as taxing as being around this shit.
journee, a little nicki in training, just has to chime in, pointing like the snitch she is, "he was being a little bitch, daddy!"
"aye!" jey interrupts, voice firm. "what i tell ya'll about all that goddamn cussing?" he doesn't wait for a reply, scolding them yet again, "stop using all that fuckin' language in my motherfuckin' house!"
one of the kids rolls their eyes, the second oldest boy, roman guesses, is quick with a smartass reply. "mama said we ain't gotta listen to you."
"she said what?"
jimmy shakes his head, murmuring to roman as he gazes at the uncovered pool, the sun reflecting off the lights at the bottom. "here we go...."
"she said you a bit—"
"that's enough!" jey marches over to the table, snatching his phone and mumbling to roman and his twin about being 'right back.' the last thing that's heard is jey laying into nicki, "who the hell you think you are telling my kids—what was that? bitch, i know you not with ole' dude again! man, i'll kill his ass and make you watch!"
the kids, thankfully, disperse back into the house.
roman is ready to pass on his parting words to jimmy and be the fuck gone. the desire for a good workout—or fucking—growing by the second. he might have to hit up sasha. sam was on that shit last time, and he's already in a foul mood.
but, a tug on his sleeve prevents him from doing that, roman's disdain painted over his handsome face. "what?" he asks, gruffly.
jayla rolls her brown eyes and only extends out her open palm. "my birthday is next month."
"and?" roman's more likely to wish jey's youngest daughter a 'happy accidental existence' day than 'happy birthday.'
however, she's undeterred, reminding, "my money?"
that, however, makes roman chuckle. he'd almost forgotten that out the four, she happens to be his favorite unfavorite. he don't like none of him, but she's not as intolerable as the rest. and her hustle is impressive.
pulling out his wallet, he asks, "how old you turning? 5?"
"i'm turning 7, uncle roman." she scoffs, maybe to herself, or him. "old people...."
at that, roman pauses, "you want the money or what, kid?"
she looks down, sheepishly, as roman counts out three hundred dollar bills, laying them in her waiting hand. "there. now don't bother me again until next year."
it's an easy request for the almost 7 year old, her eyes wide as she imagines all the robux she'll be able to get.
stuffing the money into her pocket, she nods and offers appreciation. "good to see you, uncle roman." roman shakes his head as jayla moves over to jimmy. "uncle jimmy....."
however, jimmy is not roman. "girl, i ain't got no money."
jayla stays true to her no filter nature. "so you're a broke ass?"
at that, roman turns his head. he actually has to hold back his smile. yeah, jayla might most definitely become his favorite at some point.
"broke ass?" jimmy, of course, fails to see that he's being baited by a damn second grader and yanks out his wallet, counting out a stack of hundreds and giving it to her. "how's that for broke ass?"
jayla looks like she just won the lottery, and at her age, she essentially just did. she doesn't bother with an expression of appreciation before dashing off with all her money.
and roman just watches as recognition dawns on jimmy's face, effectively ridding him of that goofy ass smile. "wait, that was my strip club money." he hops off the stool and goes after his niece. "get back here, you lil samoan wednesday!"
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deancasbigbang · 2 days
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Title: work song
Author: dothraki_shieldmaiden
Artist: tallula03
Rating: Explicit
Pairings: Dean Winchester/Castiel
Length: 70000
Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence
Tags: Murder Husbands, Revenge, Canon-Typical Violence, Break Up and Make Up, Mutual Pining, Getting Back Together, Criminal!Castiel, Angst with a Happy Ending
Posting Date: October 31, 2024
Summary: Two years ago, Dean Winchester's life came crashing to a halt when his boyfriend, Castiel Novak, died in a tragic accident. After painstakingly putting his life back together, Dean goes on a vacation with his best friend, where he sees a face he never thought he would see again. Now reunited, Castiel tells Dean the truth about his past and the reason for his disappearance. However, all is not well--Dean cannot move past Cas' betrayal and lies, and the ghosts from Cas' past refuse to remain there. With danger looming, Dean and Cas start on a mission of revenge and justice, but they're badly outnumbered. With the hurt of the past colliding with the fragile promise of the future, Dean and Castiel need to learn how to create a new path--or else risk being lost forever.
Excerpt: Dean settles on the edge of the couch, ready to jump away at a moment’s notice. The surrealness of the situation �� him, talking to Castiel two years after he thought Cas died, furious instead of joyful, wanting nothing more than to flee from Cas as fast as he can — would flatten him if he thought about it for longer than two seconds.  So he just doesn’t think about it. He sits and he waits.  Cas takes a long time to get to the point, twisting his fingers around each other, so abruptly that Dean winces at the sharp pop of his knuckles. Cas stares at a stain on the carpet like the secrets to the universe are written in its oblong edges.  By the time Cas finally speaks, Dean is ready to jump out of his skin with anticipation. He’s ready for Cas to yell at him, to call him pathetic. He just wants Cas to say something, but he’s completely unprepared for what Cas does eventually say.  “You are…” Cas’ throat bobs as he says, with an inflection that sounds like something soft and small dying, “were… one of the most important things in my life. The most important thing in my life.”  Cas sounds so sincere. Dean could almost believe him.  “I never would have left if I had the choice. Those two years I spent with you… They were the happiest of my life.”  Cas takes a deep breath, fortifying himself. Dean does the same, rebuilding his wall that had started to crack at the first sign of Cas’ vulnerability. He’s imagining everything from Cas actually admitting that he’s just shit at breaking up with someone and couldn’t figure out a different way to end the relationship, to Cas saying that he had to flee due to problems with the IRS. “When I said you were in danger… Dean, I wasn’t lying. When I first met you, I had been on the run for over a year. I knew that staying with you was only tempting fate — bringing danger right to your doorstep — but I couldn’t help myself. You were so…” Castiel swallows. His hands are clasped so tightly together that his knuckles are bleeding white. “And for two years, I thought it might be all right. I thought… I thought maybe I was allowed to have you. But then I saw someone from my past, and I knew that if they had managed to find me, they could threaten you. They could hurt you.”  “Hurt me? Cas, I don’t—”  He doesn’t know what to expect, but he still couldn’t have prepared himself for what Cas says next.  “Dean, I was a member of the Archangel crime organization until it was taken over by Lucifer Morningstar. I was on the run because he put a bounty on my head, and I know you might not believe this, but the reason I left was to protect you.”  Fucking what?
DCBB 2024 Posting Schedule
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lightlycareless · 14 hours
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https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTNL3PDf8/
I saw this and it made me think of Naoya. I’m not sure which kid this would be but this feels so much like Naoya in how sassy and done the dad seems about the situation. He also does seem like the type to climb into the backseat on the road to see what his daughter is saying XD idk I love seeing videos of dads with their kids and imagining it with Naoya
Awww, I love this so much!!
I already envisioned Naomi as a chirpy baby, always talking to her mama or papa, so this was just perfect!!!
warnings: fluff. Naoya and you are parents to an adorable baby girl named Naomi❤️ Also this is not exactly the same as what happened in the video, it actually inspired me to write something somewhat different, still related, but not identical... if that's ok 🥺 I still hope you enjoy it though!!
Happy reading!
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To me this sounds like it would happen a road trip, or anywhere where the two have to drive to their destination and grow quite unsure if Naomi will be able to handle such a thing.
But of course, she does! Kind of, Naomi is always one to entertain herself thanks to her wit and curiosity, either creating complex storylines involving her plushies, or sharing whatever crossed her mind with her parents—regardless of if they were fluent in babbling or not.
“—jump! Kitty jump!”
“Is that so, dumpling?” Naoya smiles, always enjoying listening to the voice of her adorable daughter. “And what else did she do?”
“Fly—no, sleep! Kitty tired…”
It was always endearing to see how the two interacted, like they had an unbreakable father-daughter bond you could only dream of having! Still, you weren’t jealous—no, of course not. If anything, you were simply happy they got along perfectly, God knows how guilty Naoya felt for his prolonged absences, so to see them so close… it made your heart soar with happiness.
Until Naomi eventually grows tired of being in the same sitting position for hours, and demands to be attended, which Naoya naturally jumps to do so.
“Papaaaa!!!”
“What is it, pumpkin? Is everything ok?!” Your husband naturally frets.
“Tired papa, hungry!!”
“Oh, I know what to do.” You say, reaching over for your bag to give Naomi one of her many pre-prepared meals—but she doesn’t want it, neither the milk nor the fruit; and that’s when both knew a break was due.
“Now, now—isn’t that better, princess?” Soon after finding a place to pull over, he cooed at her while gently holding her against him, watching her eat as Naomi glanced back at him, with those bright round eyes that let him know she was satisfied to be away from that uncomfortable seat and instead in the arms of her beloved papa.
“We should stretch our legs for a bit before continuing.” You suggest, to which Naoya enthusiastically agrees to—he had driven to a near lookout with the hopes of distracting Naomi (though it was more like rushing to find one, he wasn’t to stop in the middle of the road and expose his family!) and get a few more pictures of her; mementos to reminisce his loved ones while away for work.
“Look over here, little mochi!” you sang, waving your hand at Naomi to catch her attention and get her into the right position: a lovely picture of her and her papa standing before the beautiful scenery of the Japanese countryside.
“Alright, I think it’s time we head back on the road if we still want to be on time.” Naoya says, wanting to take advantage of the sunlight as well as Naomi’s now calm demeanor, believing it wouldn’t take long for her to fall asleep, lulled into deep slumber after being tired out…
Or at least that’s what either hoped, for Naomi, upon seeing her parents approach the car, quickly understood that she’d be relegated back to that awful seat, far away from dear papa and all the attention he was giving her—no can do!
“No!” Naomi cried, shaking her head. “No, papa!!”
“What’s wrong, Naomi??” Naoya, as usual, worries. “Are you still hungry? Or do you want to stay here a little longer—”
“Papa no go! Stay!’
“Oh, you don’t want me to go?” He asks, flattered by her request. Though concerned, because if he were to stay with his little princess, then who…?
“It’s ok, I’ll drive.” You suggest, taking the keys from his hands. “Go sit back with Naomi, our mochi needs you.”
“Are you sure, my love? We still have much to traverse.”
“I’ll be fine.” You encourage with a smile. “Now go, sit with her. I’m sure the two of you will have much to talk about!”
And that, they did, for Naomi wasted no time to jump back on whatever playful scenario she left pending, now with the addition of her equally imaginative father (no surprise where Naomi got it from) who made her playtime even more exciting.
“And then, the great Toji-kun appeared, defeating all enemies around them and rescuing Kitty!” Naoya effused, playing with one of her plushies—a stern-looking penguin that somehow reminded him of his cousin.
Naomi giggles, liking the addition of this so-called amazing Toji-kun into her games, alongside noticing the fondness her father seemed to have for this character for he’d always bring him along one way or the other, regardless of what they were playing—
Never comparable to her adorable Hello Kitty, of course, but she wouldn’t tell him that. Not when she was having so much fun!
And so, your chirpy daughter and doting husband continued to entertain one another, making the ride to your first destination quite enjoyable—it kind of made you sad having to interrupt them just to ask Naoya a question regarding your hosting reservation, but since they quieted down a bit this might be the best moment yet—
“Honey, at what time do we check-in?”
Only to realize their silence hadn’t come from observing the scenery around, but rather, succumbing to their own exhaustion, Naoya’s head rested over Naomi’s seat while her hand tightly heled onto his, for even when asleep she didn’t want to be far from him.
You smile at the sight of them, giving them one last glance through the rearview mirror before continuing looking ahead, hoping that by the time you arrive you’d still be able to snap a picture of them.
Until then, you look forward to spending the weekend with them, on what was Naomi’s first holiday as a family.
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Been wanting to write about Naoya, Y/N, and Naomi spending a holiday together ajkghkajgha I don't know what exactly, but you know, I'll figure out something :)))) (suggestions are greatly appreciated too hehe)
Thank you so much for feeding my domestic au. We just love a doting Naoya, don't we :') 🥹❤️ if only... Well, that's why I'm here for 🤭 still have more to come!!
Now, take care, and hope to see you soon!
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miridiums-writing · 2 days
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Hey could you write like a Thranduil x y/n thing? I kinda need it right now.
No Escape
Thranduil x reader fan fic
Imagine : If only you didn’t look so similar to his passed wife, maybe you could have made it out of the elven kingdom with the others.
Authors note : im sorry ive been gone so long, im back now though I promise. Ill set up a new masterlist and we can all forget my old works don’t exist because I hate them all.
The forest was so dark, you and the rest of the company trying to navigate through the winding trails. It was all going fine and well until you all realized you were gong in continuous circles. Seeing the same trees, the same oddly shaped rocks over and over that you all realized something was wrong. “lets just set up camp for now and try again tomorrow.” You insisted, noticing the frustration of the others. “Fine,” Thorin conceded. “We get out of here tomorrow though, we have to keep pushing forwards.”
With that you all settled down for the night, you went off to gather some wood for a fire with Bilbo, unsurprisingly your favourite of the company given how down to earth he was, plus the pure entertainment factor he brought to the group at times due to his cushioned upbringing. “Do you think we actually will get out tomorrow?” Bilbo asked, clearly more worried if that could be the case than he let on. “’course we will, we’ve gotten this far haven’t we?” You reassured, patting the top of Bilbo’s head in hopes of calming his anxiety. “I suppose so.” He mused, adding another stick to the bundle you had already gathered. “Exactly,” You said with a warm smile. “Nothing left to bring us down now except the dragon.” Bilbo seemed to grimace at this. “Don’t remind me” He grumbled. You just laughed lightly. “You’re far too negative, always hope for the best, and prepare for the worst. That’s why you’re here, you little burglar.” “I’m not a burglar.” He reminded. “Well, you’re the best we’ve got, maybe when we’re out of this forest I can help train you how to be stealthy.”
The light banter between the two is quickly cut off by a very loud thump against the forest floor, almost shaking the ground between the pair of you. You immediately dropped the pile of branches to the moss ground, breaking into a sprint back to the others, you could here them in the distance fighting when you’re path was blocked by the biggest spider you’ve ever seen in your life. It was a large black, hairy thing, immediately trying to shoot webs in your direction to catch you. Adrenalin jumped you into first gear, dodging by a hair at the first shot, and bringing your bow and arrow from your back to aim at the spider, aiming right between the eyes and firing the shot. The shot lands. The spider falls, only for three more to appear in its place. This was not going to be easy.
You reach back grabbing another arrow and letting it fly, hitting each spider as they came with pristine accuracy. Even with such accuracy though from years training, it didn’t seem to be enough. The arrows quickly started to dwindle, before running out. Not having enough time between spiders to scavenge for your arrows, leaving you eventually cornered, and empty handed. Though just as one of the spiders went to launch itself at you it got violently thrown backwards by...an elf?
~~~~~
You couldn’t decide whether you preferred the spiders, or this. Getting dragged, cuffed, towards a rathe impressive looking castle. Not that you’d ever say that allowed, in fear of further angering Thorin who already looked like he was plotting the elves deaths in detail, shouting, swearing and struggling as he went. You kept your head down, not sure what was about to happen, but not wanting to anger the elves, especially after they went out of their way to save their lives. Even if it meant they’d ended up getting dragged to the dungeons. You had graciously been given a cell alone. Given you were the only woman in the group it seemed only fair. You got yourself comfy against the wall, listening to the others chat amongst themselves on what to do, waiting for a quiet moment to bring up what felt like the most important thing to worry about. “Where is Bilbo?” You said, cutting through the whispers. The others immediately went silent at that. He wasn’t among them, you hadn’t seen him since before the spiders. “Maybe he’s doing what he does best, burgling the keys.” Baldin grunted. You just hoped he was right.
All talk of escape was cut off by guards coming down, leading Thorin from his cell to meet the king. When the dungeon door closed behind them all of you sighed. If Thorin was angry, which he was, all hope of doing this civilly was going to be immediately snuffed out by his rage. The wait for Thorin to come back was long, and silent. Talk of escape had died completely as you all waited tensely for him to return. And return he did. His eyebrows furrowed in rage, cursing under his breath as he was pushed back into his cell resulting in a loud bang as his body collided with the floor. No words needed to be spoken for them to know it hadn’t gone well. The already depressing reality hit like a train. Unless a miracle happened. This was it.
~~~~~~~
You woke up the next morning to banging against the bars of your cell. You were crumpled against the wall, your back strained from the position you’d slept in. “Get up.” The guard said gruffly, starting to poke you with the sheathed sword to fully wake you up. “Get up!” The demanded again, much more aggressively than previously. You slowly started more your cramped body up off of the floor. The cell door opened and two guards immediately grabbed your arms ad started dragging you out of the dungeon to who knows where. The walk was long and winding, it felt like they were taking you on a confusing route on purpose to make sure you didn’t know the way out. Or maybe the halls really were this confusing, who knows. Either way you eventually arrived at a rather impressive looking door. Large green wooden panels made up the door with large tree roots encasing the doors, twirling around the doors handles.
Someone from the other side opened the doors leading to what seemed to be a throne room, with a tall blonde haired man sat on top, a rather dramatic crown upon his head, adorned with gems and jewels to mimic a berry branch. He watched closely as you were dragged in, forced to kneel down in front of him on the ground. His expression seemed to change from mild annoyance to surprise as you got closer. Now kneeled before him, the man stood, towering over you as he stared down at your face, almost like he didn’t believe it. “Oh, it’s you” He said, relief and sadness laced his voice. His legs seemed to give out under him and kneeled down staring at your face with tears in his eyes. “Oh my dear, how I’ve missed you. I though- I thought you died.” He said, his voice cracking slightly as his hand reached for your cheek, fingertips gently grazing your cheek. You stared at him blankly. Not a flicker of recognition behind your eyes as he acted as if you were supposed to know him. Confusion took over his features at your lack of response. “Calatheil? My blossom, why are you acting like you don’t know me?” Now it was your turn to be confused, “That’s not my name, I’m (Y/N).” You said in response. The man went quiet after that, staring holes into the floor. “But you look like her.” He said, his voice firm, like it was a fact. “That doesn’t mean I am her”
The man went silent again for a moment, anger passing over his face before disappearing. “Of course it does,” He said. “You’ve just forgotten is all.” His words were firm and absolute. “Ill just need to remind you, my poor wife” You looked at him as if he was insane. “But I’m not. I am not your wife, I’m sorry. But I’m not... I wanna go back to my cell now.” The man laughed without humour. “Absolutely not, my wife shouldn’t be around such vermin.” “Do you mean the dwarves?” you asked, going on the defensive, they were your friends, were they odd absolutely, but that didn’t mean you loved them any less. “Of course I do! You’ll be going no where near them ever again. Guards, take her to my room, and do not under any circumstances let her get free!” He ordered, standing up from his crouched position and heading back to his thrown. “And bring me Thorin! I may be inclined to allow his freedom under a condition.” You were once again grabbed by guards and dragged out. “No! I’d rather cells, don’t you dare, I’m not your wife! Let me go!” Your shouts died down as you were dragged further away, thrashing in an attempt of any escape, managing to get one arm free only for more guards to hold you, overpowered once more by the numbers. The struggling silenced to Thranduil as the door shut behind you.
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dreadsuitsamus · 20 hours
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First | Choso Kamo x Reader |
author's note: this is a sequel to that small first kiss imagine i wrote a while back, and i've finally found the steam to wrap it up! i love this guy 🩷
pairing: choso kamo x fem!reader
warnings: nsfw, explicit smut, fingering, dry humping, friends to lovers
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Frost nips at Choso’s delicate little nose as he has a cigarette out on the balcony, his habit uncaring about the weather conditions being less than stellar. It’s cold, though not snowing at least. His dark hair is down, the ends tickling the back of his neck while a beanie covers the top of his head and ears, keeping him as warm as possible in this thirty degree weather. Shooting a gaze over his shoulder as he blows the smoke with the direction of the wind, he peeks inside of the window to see if you’re ready yet, but the living room is still empty. So, with his question answered, he turns back around and looks to the sky.
It’s been a handful of weeks since he first kissed you, and he’s kept his word: a kiss every single day, and usually more than once a day at that. And naturally, as one would hope with frequent make-outs, things have progressed a bit beyond two friends just kissing to heal old wounds. You’ve been friends for quite a long time by now, and it’s been so easy to transition to this budding romance, the expected awkwardness and general weirdness you thought would appear not existing at all. Choso puts out the cigarette and discards it with a flick to the busy city street far below him, climbing back into your apartment and shrugging the hefty coat off of his strong, broad shoulders once he’s closed the window.
“Oi!” He comes to tap his knuckle against your closed bedroom door. “We still gotta get a cab, babe, come on! We’re gonna miss our reservations.”
“I don’t know what to wear!” Your voice wails from behind the wooden barrier between you and Cho, and he sighs. He’s not sure why he didn’t expect this of you, as you’ve historically always been the late one in your friend group.
“Whatever you wear is gonna look great!” Choso pouts and leans against the wall. You’re not convinced, though, and you look between the two dresses laid out on your bed. It’s your first date with Cho, and despite knowing him for over seven years, you’re as nervous as you’d be on a blind date with a proper stranger. You’re treading a line finer than the baby hairs at the back of your neck, after all, and on the line is something too precious to lose.
But also on the line stands the chance for a relationship that could flourish into the best thing you’ve ever had. Frankly, there should probably be more butterflies rumbling in your tummy!
Moving to the bedroom door and pulling it open to see your dear friend, you take his large hand in yours and tug. Happy to be dragged anywhere you take him, especially into your lair as you’re half-naked under that little silk robe, Choso easily follows your lead. He doesn’t hide his sneaky little grin well, and you bat his arm with a laugh, warmth withering the nerves away with the comfort that, at least, he thinks you're hot. Cho’s the same as he’s always been, after all, and the reminder melts the tension from your shoulders. “You’re dating me now and still acting like this?”
“Am I supposed to stop?” He murmurs, tugging his beanie off and threading those long fingers through the chocolatey locks, fluffing it up a bit and then smoothing it out.
“I hope not.” Sinking your teeth into your lip, you pick up your two best dresses, holding them up and turning to Choso. “So, which one do you think would look good?”
His amber eyes don’t linger on either choice and instead scan that skimpy lilac robe that hardly reaches your mid-thigh, his hands closing into tight fists while his Adam's apple bobs steadily. He’s always thought of you as attractive, no doubt, and that’s why he kissed you on that sweet night your friend group passed around first kiss stories. You deserved an amazing first kiss and Choso wanted nothing more than to be that for you, to erase the memories of that dreadful man you gave your all to. His intentions aren’t all pure, however, and he hopes to God you can’t sense it.
He would kill your ex if given the chance. How dare that bastard take and take every ounce of your spirit, crushing you beneath the weight of his impossible expectations, carelessness and general assholery? Choso’s made it more than his personal mission to wipe out every memory, heal each scar and destroy any and all lingering ideas of doubting what you deserve. You should be loved, adored, cherished…
And fucked absolutely senseless.
If your first kiss was no good, your first time couldn’t have been halfway decent either. And he hasn’t wanted to admit it, he wants to be good and proper and show you what a gentleman is like… But every night it claws at him knowing that you’ve never been shown a good time. Knowing that your beautiful body was never worshipped, never adored and doted on or prioritized at all kills him. He should take it slow like he planned, he knows. It’s what you deserve!
But he’s going absolutely mad at the sight of you now and frankly, it shows; your chest flips at the look in those warm, hungry, honey-hued eyes. “Cho?” Your voice, so soft and pretty, quickly jolts him back to his senses. Shaking his head as if to knock the naughty thoughts from his brain, Choso takes a proper look at each dress you’re holding.
“Uh… They’re both… nice.” One has a plunging neckline and the other one is so short he’s not completely sure it’ll cover your ass! Why don't you just write ‘tease’ clear as day on your forehead while you're at it? Not to mention, it's thirty fucking degrees outside and he's not looking forward to giving up his coat when you get cold!
“Just nice?” With a defeated groan, the dresses are tossed onto the floor and you’re back to the drawing board in your closet, flipping through your array of sundresses, evening gowns, club outfits and more. Choso’s close behind as you walk away, a confused crease forming between his brows as he takes in just how packed this walk-in is. He could swear he’s seen you cycle through the same six or so outfits since he met you! How could you possibly have this many clothes?? 
Blinking himself out of the stupor, Cho places warm palms to your shoulders, rubbing a gentle massage into your skin. His touch is magical, and any other time would be quite soothing. But the nerves that line every inch of your body are just too frayed for a simple shoulder rub to cure this time. “Baby, it really doesn’t matter what you wear-”
“Of course it does! This is our first date!”
Okay, time to re-route.
Choso presses a kiss to your temple, hands gradually marking a path to your hips, taking the scenic route and enjoying a few selfish squeezes along the way. With soft lips at your ear, you shiver at how Choso touches you. This relationship— situationship?— is still fragile and fresher than a newborn baby, and while the kissing is plentiful, that's about as far as it really gets.
“Relax...” Cho murmurs quietly, squeezing your hips and rubbing at your rear. “Breathe, baby. It's all okay.”
Melting like butter, Choso’s touches light your eyes with lust and, dragging your wet tongue along your glossed lips as a soft moan passes by, you fall easily into his embrace. “Cho…”
With a trail of kisses smattering your neck and shoulders, Choso coos. “You could wear a paper bag and I’d still be fighting off all the other men in the room. And all the other girls could be naked and I'm still only gonna be able to see you. I mean it, babe. You're just that perfect.”
“... What if I wore nothing?”
Choso kisses a spot he's not sure he's touched yet. “Then we'd both be in jail, but my sentence would be a lot longer than yours.” Murder is, after all, a bit more than a frowned upon misdemeanor.
“And what if you wore nothing with me?”
A small smile is hidden into your skin, Choso's lips pressing insistently to your neck as his large hands come to pull at the knot at the front of your robe. “Then I think we're missing our reservations tonight.”
You're leaned back against him fully now, head rolling off to the side to allow him more unbridled access to the column of your throat. “Who likes that restaurant anyway?”
“You're right.” Sharp teeth nip gleefully alongside a low chuckle. “What's another six week waiting list, hm?” Your robe slips from your shoulders after a light, insisting tug at it by the small of your back. By the time it's pooled at your ankles, the silky fabric cool on your skin, Choso’s hands have resumed their exploration of your body.
His hands are cold still from his smoke break, which sends goosebumps down your delicious body wherever he touches you. His mouth, hot and minty with a tinge of cigarette, plants a kiss on the shell of your ear, his low voice whispering against you in a way that lights the rest of your body up.
“You’re so pretty.”
Your nipples, covered by a pretty pink bra with strawberries on them, peak as your cunt is struck with a lick of lust; you never dreamed before that Choso would be one to make you feel this way. He's always been just a friend, a guy you never really realized even had a penis, let alone one you'd like to see and touch and more.
How time changes things!
You turn in his arms, pushing up onto your tiptoes into a desperate kiss, one that nearly sends Choso off of his feet as your dalliance moves from the closet and to the bed. Boldness strikes him and he's turning your back to the bed, the edge of the mattress knocking the back of your knees before you're guided down, Choso’s large hands holding your figure tenderly.
“Can I touch you?” He murmurs, hands completely still despite his lust swelling below the belt and beneath his ribcage. Even with the general flirting, kissing and touching going on, to make the true transition of friend into boyfriend is a heavy step, one he doesn't want taken back.
Adoration-fueled goosebumps scatter your body, the tingling feeling in your breast and thighs meeting in the middle for a warm flooding of your tummy. Cho is so delicate, so thoughtful and considerate… It makes your desire for him triple in the single blink of an eye.
“Please.” His whisper is more urgent now, a frenzy building behind warm, amber eyes. He'll certainly stop if you command him so, but you couldn't dream of doing so now.
Your fingertips brush against the strong, solid line of his jaw, feeling his smooth, pale-toned skin. “Yes. Everywhere.”
Choso’s lips crash onto yours immediately, greedily having a fill of your sweet, pretty lips as the pads of his fingertips graze your body, massaging small circles into the warm, electrified flesh of your hips. The thin line of your panties taunts him, that and his own clothes reminding him of how far away he really is from you.
“Choso.” You murmur at his short hesitation, playing with the little hairs at the back of his neck. It soothes him, as intended, and he presses a sweet kiss to your cheek while dipping his thumbs below the band of your skimpy underwear, toying with the fabric before running his hands up your beautiful curves and carefully removing the thin bralette to see your breasts, bare and beautiful for the first time.
Choso’s mouth, hot and honeyed with his wanton saliva, glazes over one of your gorgeous, pert nipples. A shiver trembles down your spine and a soft little moan passes your lips as his tongue swirls and lips suck, and the encouragement is enough for him to slowly dip his hand beneath your panties, those long fingers finding a hot, sticky mess to play with.
The feeling of your juicy cunt on his hand, the way your pretty little clit hides between the succulent lips of your pussy… It makes Choso harder than he's ever been. A harsh shiver overtakes him as his fingers lather in your sweetness, two of them carefully dipping inside of your hole.
“Holy fuck…” His warm breath fans over your breast, his forehead resting against you while he slowly pumps his fingers in and out of you. The way your walls just suck him in, so greedily, so warm and inviting and… and god he can't believe how hard he is. “You're so perfect…”
Heat fills your entire face at his admission. All he's done is for your pleasure, yet he's panting and groaning like you're the one touching him. Is it really possible for a man to feel pleasure from giving, rather than receiving?
With the way that rod in his jeans pokes at your leg, it must be.
“Cho, you feel so good…” Your face buries into his hair, the dark chocolate locks smelling of strawberries. He never did seem like the type to buy the “manly” ten-in-one types.
“No, you do.” Choso presses a sweet kiss to your collarbone, urging his long fingers deeper inside of your core, spreading your sticky, thick nectar over his digits. He relishes the feeling, the way your pussy grips him and asks for more and more and more. And he gives it to you, finger-fucking you faster and filling the room with raunchy squelches, the addicting sounds only urging him even further.
“So good… Pretty pussy, sweet pussy…” It's as if he's drunk, intoxicated on you and all you're giving him. He slips a third finger inside of you, gentle in stretching you open to accommodate the girth of the three fingers together. All he wants is to feel you, simply just can't get enough of you around him.
“Ch-Choso, fuck, mmmmmmmm fuck!” He's hitting all the right spots so perfectly, prodding the spongy spot inside. “I-I’m close, honey, so close…”
Sharp teeth sink into the curve of your breast, quiet growls muffled into the flesh. You're so close, and he's going to get you there, all over his hand. He needs it, you need it, god he needs it…
Your back nearly snaps as you shoot up into an arch, cumming harshly and moaning loud enough to piss off the neighbors, who also happen to be your friends, though once Nobara is past the interruption of her beauty sleep she'll surely be joining Yuji in giggling about it.
Choso's rutting relentlessly now, withdrawing his fingers from your cunt and to his mouth, moaning as he licks and sucks every ounce of your essence from his digits. This man, your friend— boyfriend, is dry humping your bed while suckling his own fingers that are drenched in your taste, getting off on pure you…
He's absolutely perfect.
Pulling his hand from his mouth, you cup his strong jaw and pull him up for a kiss, and he adjusts himself between your legs, the tinkle of his belt buckle the only thing keeping you in the moment enough to realize he's shoving his pants and boxers to his knees, that lovely cock (that you had no idea he was packing below that belt) springing up against his stomach before he lays back down, his hot cock leaking against your ruined panties as he ruts.
His large hands rest on either side of you, holding him up so he's not pinning his weight down and crushing you, and you play with his hair as he comes closer to orgasm. The bedspread is bunched into his fists as he crests, his lips no longer able to cooperate with yours as beautiful, hot, sticky ropes of thick, white cum burst from his purpled tip, covering your lower belly and panties in his seed, all whilst groaning entirely unintelligible babble.
This is the first time in your entire life that you've felt so sexy and desirable, and the warmth in your chest blooms into a strong heat, a flame of love and adoration that may never burn out.
Choso falls to the left of you, his chest heaving while he gathers himself. He glances your direction, and with a bit of an embarrassed smile, he slips his hand into yours, squeezing warmly.
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