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#maybe you need to look at yourself dude IDK
hibiscusseaart · 16 hours
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yesterday i had a glorious fucking migraine and i had thoughts about au of the time travel tobirama au
basically what if Tobirama fails and dies like about a year after the marriage with Madara. Konoha is building and everything, everyone is happy and then Tobirama fucking dies.
I didn't think of the reason, but maybe he was killed in battle or smth. Maybe by some clan like idk Shimura :)
(prob bc of Black Zetsu)
So, expectedly, Madara loses his fucking mind and it's even worse than when Izuna died, cuz they're supposed to be at peace what the fuck. Madara tries to raze the entire clan responsible for his sweet husband's death.
Hashirama doesn't let him do that and Madara leaves the village, where Black Zetsu catches onto him.
So basically, canon, but Tobirama was never Niidaime and Izuna lived.
The second Hokage would be, idk, Itama, who's fucking terrified and he didn't signed up for this shit!
But yeah, he's the Niidaime and he does everything in his power to implement everything Tobirama wanted to do for the village. And it's a lot. A LOT. Honestly like the dude knew he's gonna be a Hokage one day, he left MANY notes.
Itama appoints Kagami as his successor, cuz that's what Tobirama would want.
Danzo, being a bitch at the Uchiha clan, since Madara had a huge beef with his clan, kills Kagami, takes his eyes, makes it mission accident yada-yada, Itama appoints Hiruzen the next Hokage.
Idk why Itama left the position, but he never wanted it anyway. He did everything his brother wanted and peaced out to go smoke.
So, the canon happens.
The 4th war happens.
Orochimaru raises the dead Hokage, but not only him, Tobirama is there too, since he was super smart and his personal fav.
"Oh fuck, not again," Tobirama said, hiding his face in his hand. Everyone thought that's about the time Orochimaru made him fight in the Konoha crush on chuunin exams. He choose him over Itama, cuz even though Itama is a good Hokage, but he's a healer for the most part and not that useful on the battlefield.
Sasuke asks his questions and then he asks Tobirama.
"Uchiha Tobirama. The history says that you were married off to the Uchiha clan, to Madara, against your will and then took the suicide mission after a year in marriage. Is this true? You hated the Uchiha so much that you killed yourself?"
"I did what"
"Well, you were the one who created Uchiha Police Force..." Orochimaru said.
"First of all, I planned it to go further than the Uchiha and to supervise it myself. At the first stages it was supposed to be only Uchiha because it was one of the most competent clans to do this job and my clan that I trusted. Second of all, 'against my will'? Seriously?! I did not chase Madara since I was 9 to write our marriage off as a political marriage! What the fuck!"
Everyone, except Hashirama and Itama looked shocked at this confession.
"Where IS my husband? Trying to avenge my death to the whole world?"
"Uh, yeah.."
"Of fucking course. I should've left him a note specifically saying that he needs to be in the fucking village and take care of our clan. Now what? Our clan is just one a vengeful child!"
Tobirama paused, feeling up the battlefield.
"And one more Uchiha who lost his shit. Of fucking course"
Everyone shocked, cuz Tobirama had a reputation who hated Uchiha, cuz his brother married him off to them as a peace offering. Then Sasuke makes Hashirama talk about all this talk about village, Hokage, shinobi yada yada yada
Senju brothers are PISSED at Hiruzen and Danzo (thank fuck he's dead right). Hiruzen looked remorseful and said that he knew that everyone expected Kagami to become Hokage and not him.
Ok, so!
Tobirama was the fastest one to rush to the battle field. He had a feral husband to calm down.
He arrived and just stood before Madara, who froze in shock.
"Husband, come here," Tobirama said, opening his arms. Alliance is just standing there gaping cuz what the fuck
Madara didn't notice Tobirama at first, since he masked his chakra by habit. But even then he was exited to meet Hashirama and fight once more. But then he sees Tobirama and FUCK all these plans, his huband is here!!!
Madara just crushed into Tobirama. He had no idea that Tobirama could've been edo tensei'ed the whole time!
"Calm down, dear. What have you done here?" Tobirama asked, petting his husband's hair.
"I just wanted to bring you back..."
"Oh dear... You stupid, stupid man," Tobirama shook his head and kissed him, while the whole Alliance watches shocked.
And this is a story how Tobirama stopped the 4th war singlehandedly.
Ofc there's Obito, but they sic Naruto on him and it's all good. Though Black Zetsu tried something, but Tobirama is fucking READY for him. He will avenge his husband's sanity.
Before they go to Pure Lands again, Tobirama said to Tsunade, Kakashi and Naruto "Fucking fix your history books! I love my husband since I was 9!" (he actually didn't, but no one should know about it, okay)
And Madara is there just clinging to Tobirama with all his body and refusing to let go. He doesn't care about Eternal Tsukuyomi anymore, cuz he can hug his husband once more.
Migraine AUs sure are interesting
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emilykaldwen · 5 months
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The irony of the doxxer being harassed by that individual who contacted you about you blocking them/this fabled block list. Let them destroy each other
I remember friends in high school/trying to make friends in high school and the general idea of like, you had that person/persons who were really mean and you would tell yourself 'they would never be like that to me, we have sleepovers together!' but then... they will, in fact, be mean to you.
I still don't understand why I was targeted (again, this is a small blog, even if I've grown in the past few weeks since the event, I'm nowhere near the [assumed] level these individuals are) and why being blocked by a random stranger who was never going to read your work/interact with your work anyway set them off anyway.
And it is also worth mentioning that I have been harassed long before this - I have been told to kill myself, I have been harassed about abby/my fic. With this evidence, I can only assume these individuals have been also behind the long term vitriol I received, as well as yesterday's anon. Thankfully, I was never involved with any of these people. It's only in trying to make some more friends that this came to a head.
What kept me from making friends in this tumblr fandom for a long time was the abuses I would see in addition to not writing reader fic/promoting those fics. (Different tastes!). I don't regret taking the steps, as Ange and Em and the others I've started to make friends with have been nothing but kind, but I cannot abide standing by and just watching bullying behavior. And what these people are engaging in is just beyond all reason. I don't know if this is an age thing or if this is toxic twitter behavior infiltrating the tumblr-sphere. It just leaves me speechless.
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lol my student teaching supervisor sent me my feedback video because he observed me friday and it was twenty minutes long and he essentially said that he was disappointed in me and that i did a disservice to american poetry so i'm feeling pretty good about myself
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javiscigarette · 8 months
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Teacher's Pet
Joel Miller x virgin f!reader
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Summary: 25 years old, anxiety-ridden, and still a virgin, you ask your friend Joel for advice on your upcoming date. But you're more of a...hands-on learner. And he's more than happy to help. 
Warnings: PWP, unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, first kiss, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), frequent check-ins, soo much banter and Joel is a menace also so soft and sweet :')....(ends on a cliffhanger but there will be a part two I swear).
w/c: 7.7k idk what happened
a/n: I am resurfacing for your monthly reminder that I do in fact still write!! Inspiration for this came out of literally nowhere but I took it and RAN with it and I think I like it?? As always, thank you to my baby love @undrthelights for helping me with this and always listening to my rambling and for being my biggest enabler Ilysm
Part Two
my masterlist
"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever." Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck pound in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed. "A what?" "Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.  "No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 
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"Seriously, Joel. Fuck off" you snap but with no bite or heat behind it. You bring the sweating bottle of beer to your lips and finish the rest of the now lukewarm liquid off in one gulp. 
"What? I just find it hard to believe that you've never even had a kiss. Didn't you go to high school? Didn't you ever get invited to a party? Didn't you go to college? College kids do the do like all the time” 
"Clearly not all the time" you mutter, a tad bitterly.
Joel raises his hands defensively and takes a sip of his own beer. "Just seems crazy is all. There's gotta be some chick or dude out there willing to take pity on you and pop your cherry."
You audibly gag at his choice of words. "I don't need a pity fuck, thanks." You stand from the couch and head over to the fridge. The bottles of cold alcohol inside are calling your name and you want something that will help soothe your nerves. You're not a big drinker, but when Joel is prying into your love life like he is now, you wish you were.
"Okay,” he starts from the living room. “Maybe I worded that wrong. What I meant to say was, there's gotta be someone out there who would be more than willing to show you a good time."
You groan and let your forehead fall against the fridge door. "That's the whole point! I came here to get advice for my date, someone who might actually be interested in me, and all you've done is make fun of me for not having fucked anyone yet. So thanks, Joel. You're a real pal."
You push away from the fridge and slam the door shut, a second beer in hand.
"Alright, alright, calm down." He says, hands in the air as if you were holding him at gunpoint as you head back to the couch. "Look, if this guy really likes you then he's not gonna care. Probably won't even be able to tell if you are or aren't."
"You think so?" You ask hopefully.
"Well, I mean, unless you're like... super bad."
Your heart drops into your stomach and you glare at him, "Joel."
"Oh come on, I'm kidding. You're not gonna be bad, okay? Just, go into it with an open mind and just relax. If he tries something you're not comfortable with or makes you feel weird, tell him. And if he gets pissy, dump his ass."
"That simple, huh?" You scoff.
"Well, yeah. You're the one who made it complicated by thinking it was a big deal."
"It is a big deal, Joel! I know nothing!
"Nothing? You ain’t ever watched porn? Jesus, I had no idea you were such a prude."
You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and slapping the back of your hand against his arm. He yelps and laughs, rubbing his arm.
"I've watched porn before" you retort. 
"What kind?" he asks with a wiggle of his brows.
"None of your fucking business" you respond, feeling your face heat up.
Joel's lips quirk into a shit-eating grin and you're quick to smack him again.
"Okay okay, sorry!" he says through his laughter. "So what exactly are you afraid of?"
You're not really sure how to answer. It's a combination of so many things, most of which are irrational fears and insecurities. Sure you've seen it all done before, but you're well aware that none of it is realistic. At least, not completely. And just the fact that you're freshly 25 years old without a single notch in your bedpost makes you dizzy with anxiety. It's not like you're saving yourself or anything, it's just that hook up culture has never agreed with you and there's never been an opportunity that made you feel like it was the right one. That is until now, with your cute coworker who you thought was miles out of your league asking you out on a third date. And now, the prospect of being in bed with him is looming over you like a dark cloud and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.
"I guess, I'm just afraid that he's gonna be disappointed, or I'm gonna weird him out, or I'm gonna do something wrong and embarrass myself.” Joel nods along and listens. "And if it is bad then we still have to work with each other and then what if it's awkward and everyone knows about it and then he hates me and--"
"Okay, whoa slow down there, buddy" Joel says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "One, you're overthinking this. You're literally thinking like, five steps ahead of what's actually going on. It's a date. And even if it does end up in the bedroom, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one's forcing you, okay? He can't. No one can."
"I know, but I want to," you reply quietly.
"Alright. Then do."
"I don't know howwww!! " you whine, flopping backwards into the couch.
Joel groans and sits up a little straighter, scrubbing a hand down his face. 
"Well, there's no magic trick, I don't have a secret sex manual I'm holding out on ya."
You sigh, shoulders sagging as you look over at him. The idea comes out of nowhere, well, not exactly from nowhere, but it pops in your head so fast that you then have to bite your tongue before the words bubbling up from your throat come tumbling out. 
It's not a bad idea, not necessarily. 
You've been good friends with Joel ever since you moved in next door last year. An unlikely pairing, a 40 year old contractor and an almost 25 year old office worker. But after offering him a six pack as part of introducing yourself to the neighbors, you'd gotten along fabulously. He fixes things around your house and you send him home with hot dinners and warm, gooey cookies and you watch movies together almost every Friday night.
 It's an easy friendship, open and honest and supportive, and Joel has never given you reason not to trust him. He's a good guy, if not a little brash, but you know deep down he means well. And it doesn't hurt that he's objectively attractive, with his tall and sturdy frame, strong, calloused hands, dark messy curls....It's not a bad idea.
It's an absolutely insane idea. 
You continue to stare at him, clenching your teeth together to hold back the question sitting on the tip of your tongue.
"What?" he says, looking back at you.
"Nothing" you mutter, eyes flicking away.
"You've got that face you make when you're about to say something really stupid, so just get it out."
You glare at him again, not enjoying the way he can read you so well.
"I wasn't gonna say anything."
"Well now you're lying."
"I'm not."
"You're doing it again!"
"Doing what?!"
"That face!"
"I'm not making a face!"
"Yes you are! Just spit it out!"
You groan and hide your face in your hands. You blame it on the one beer even though you know you’re not anywhere close to being drunk because how else would you justify what you’re about to say? You wait a moment, thinking about the weight of it but your mouth opens before you can stop yourself. 
"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."
Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck and hear it in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.
"A what?"
"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. 
"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 
His eyes are wide, and he looks incredulous. You can't blame him, because the more time that passes between your suggestion and now, the more ridiculous the idea seems.
"I’m sorry, that was…It was stupid. Pretend I didn't say anything. Let's just watch a movie." You move to grab the remote, but Joel's hand covers yours, stopping you.
"Is that what you want?"
You look at him, searching his expression for any sign of disgust or apprehension. But all you can see is the same Joel you've known for months, patient, warm, and understanding.
"I know. I know it's stupid. But I can't get this date out of my head, Joel. It's all I can think about and the more I do, the more worried I get and I just don't want to fuck it up. And I know we're friends and this is weird and gross, but I just thought that... maybe, I could have some practice, so to speak."
He doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking at you, the panic rising in your chest the longer the silence stretches. You start to fidget, wringing your hands together in your lap.
"I'm sorry, that was way out of line" you say, moving to stand up, your skin sweaty and hot with embarrassment and your feet ready to run out the door and never come back. 
But Joel catches your wrist, gently pulling you back down to sit next to him.
"Joel" you whine, not wanting him to humiliate you any further.
"It's okay, come here."
His voice is softer than before, and his eyes are kind. You let him pull you closer, the two of you sitting knee to knee. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, not with your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning like they are, but Joel doesn't push. He simply moves his hand from your wrist, sliding it into yours. His palms are rough and warm, and the simple touch alone is comforting.
"You really wanna do this?” he asks softly. You can feel his eyes boring into you. “I mean, I'm not exactly a prize winning catch. And it's not like there's a shortage of willing men out there."
You shrug and chew the inside of your lip.
"Yeah, but you're my friend and I...I trust you."
There's another pause, and you wish that you could just disappear into the couch and erase this moment from your memory.
"How drunk are you?" he asks, glancing at the beer bottle on the coffee table.
"You saw me finish one bottle. And half of another. I’m barely tipsy."
"Not drunk?”
"Nope."
"You're gonna remember this tomorrow."
"Uh huh."
"And you still want to?"
You groan for the millionth time and squeeze his hand.
"Yes I want to! Look, if you don't want to then that's fine. It was just a dumb suggestion and we can just forget this ever happened."
He hums, considering your words. His hand slips out of yours, and you think that's it, you've scared him off and washed the friendship down the drain. That you'll have to hide from him from now on, that you'll have to pack your things up and move because the mortification would be too much, and that he'll hate you, and—
His two fingers sliding under chin surprise you, and he tilts your head up. He's looking down at you with that same even expression, eyes big, soft, and warm as he slides his hand over to cup your jaw in his palm. 
"If you want to stop at any point, just say so, okay? I won't be upset and we can go back to the way things were before. Got it?"
You nod, your throat suddenly too tight to speak. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, the tender touch is enough to make your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this is actually happening. That your first kiss is going to be with your 40 year old menace of a neighbor. That you’re going to, how did you put it, get a sex lesson from him. His gaze flicks down to your lips and back up to your eyes and you’re positive you’re no longer able to breathe. 
"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly. You nod. 
You're sure he can hear the thumping of your heart in his own ears as he leans down. His other hand comes to rest on your hip and when his lips touch yours, a soft, tentative pressure, you're not prepared for the electricity that shoots through you.
He's barely done anything and already you feel like you're floating. Your own hands reach out to clutch his shirt, keeping him close, afraid he'll pull away and leave you cold and wanting if you don't. But he stays put, pressing himself against you, his lips working gently against yours. You follow his lead, kissing him back while trying not to overthink it.
It's nothing like the kisses in the movies or the books, where fireworks explode behind your eyelids or where your foot pops up in the air. It's far more subdued, more quiet and subtle. But the warmth that pools low in your belly and the goosebumps that erupt on your skin when his tongue slides against the seam of your lips, light and quick, makes you absolutely melt. 
He pulls back before you can really react, and you're left with a dizzying rush of both blistering desire and excruciating anxiety. You want to pull him back in and never let him go. But your heart is beating so fast you can hardly breathe, your nerves are buzzing, and the urge to run and hide is nearly paralyzing. 
"Was it bad?" you ask tentatively, cheeks heated.
"No" he replies, giving your hip a squeeze as a smirk plays on his lips. "It was fucking awful. Worst kiss of my life"
"Shut up!" you hiss, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He laughs, the sound easing some of the tension in your body. 
"I'm just teasing" he says, voice dropping lower. "C'mere, we can work on it."
His lips find yours again, and you try not to smile into the kiss but it's hard when you can feel the way his lips are quirked up as well. It doesn’t take much else to get you to relax and let yourself fall into the moment, into the gentle press of his mouth and the warm hands on your hip and your cheek. He swipes his tongue against your lips again, his fingers pressing lightly into the hinge of your jaw to tilt your head back and coax your lips apart.
You let him, sighing as his tongue glides across yours, hot and smooth and sweet. Your hands slide up his chest, finding purchase around his shoulders, and when you move forward, pushing yourself against him, he grunts softly but lets you. He kisses you until the both of you are gasping for air, and when he pulls back, his lips are wet and red and you're certain yours must be as well.
"Better?" you ask, a bit breathless.
"Getting there" he answers with, his breath warm where it fans across your cheek. 
"You're such a liar" you say with a goofy smile.
"Yeah, I know. Now try again, practice makes perfect.” 
You roll your eyes but lean back in nonetheless. It's a bit more heated this time, the feeling of his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip making you squirm. His hand rounds over your hip, palm smoothing to the small of your back to pull you closer, the heat of his body radiating through your clothes and warming your skin. Your hands move on their own accord, no thought behind the action as they slide up to his shoulders and then his neck, your fingers finding home in the curls at the base of his skull. When you give them a slight tug, you're rewarded with a muffled grunt from Joel. Emboldened, you pull back, lips swollen and tingling.
"You’re a good kisser,” you pant. "Is that something people usually say?"
"When it’s true" he says, grinning at you. "And since I know you're gonna ask, I'd say that was a C+, maybe a B-."
You scoff but blush furiously at the smile he flashes, his eyes crinkling in the corners.
"Well then, tell me what to do next. What do I need to know?"
Joel hums as he thinks for a moment. 
"What do you want to do?"
You stare at him for a second, blinking.
"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you" you say, shaking your head a bit.
"Well, how far do you want to take this?"
You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy. You can’t deny that when the idea popped in your head it was accompanied by the mental image of you naked, spread out on his bed, but the actual act of asking him, or better yet, actually doing it is... intimidating to say the least. Are you really about to let him go all the way, to see you bare and vulnerable, let him pop your cherry as he would disgustingly put it? All just to “prepare” for a date with a guy who might not even like you that way?
Yeah, probably.
"All the way" you answer. “I want to go all the way” 
He doesn’t pounce on you like you expected, doesn’t press his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss that you had half hoped for. Instead, he simply looks at you, his brown eyes boring into yours, searching.
"Are you sure? You can always say no and you're not gonna lose me as a friend if this isn’t what you actually want. I don’t want you thinking that."
You can't help the laugh that bubbles up and slips out, because of course Joel, your kind, thoughtful Joel, would say that. He's a good man. A great one, even.
"Yes, I'm sure. But if you don't want to, I get it, I can just leave and-"
Joel laughs, the sound traveling up from deep in his chest, the rumble vibrating against you.
"Sweetheart, I wouldn't be doin’ this if I didn't want to. Just makin’ sure this is what you really want."
"I want it.” 
He squeezes your hip and swipes a thumb over your cheekbone once again. 
“Alright then.” He nods, firm and resolute, and then looks around the room. “ We’re not doing it here, though. If you're getting the full Joel Miller experience, we're gonna do it right.” 
Your eyes roll reflexively, but your heart picks up its pace regardless.
"I’m not gonna do anything if you call it that ever again."
"Fine, fine,” he relents. “Let me show you what a good, thorough fucking feels like. Better?"
Your jaw drops, and he's laughing at you, his body shaking with amusement.
"Fuck you" you grumble, shoving him away while trying to hide your coy smile. 
"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for," he says with a wide, self-assured grin.
"I'm leaving" you declare with a false sense of offense as you rise to your feet. Joel is quick to do the same and before you can take a single step away, he slips a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugs you back into him, wrapping an arm around your waist.
"I’ll stop, I’ll stop. I'm sorry" he says, not sounding it one bit.
You huff, but let him pull you closer until you’re pressed against his chest and you have to tilt your head back to look at him.
"I’ll be good. I promise."
"Liar"
"Well, yeah. But I can promise that I'll make you feel good."
You can't help the giggle that spills out and he kisses it away, his lips warm and plush and sweet against yours. The hand not resting on your lower back comes up, curling around the nape of your neck and keeping you close. You sink into him, and the fog creeps in again, dulling the rest of the world, making it seem fuzzy and distant, like the memory of a dream. All you can focus on is him, the warm solid weight of him against you, the strong arms holding you, the way his mouth moves against yours. And then he’s pulling back all too soon and you have to stifle a whine.
"Come on" he says, tugging at your hand.
His bedroom is dim, the little lamp on his nightstand and the faint glow of the moon through the curtains providing the only light. You swallow and take a deep breath as you step inside, your bare toes digging into the plush carpet, his hand warm and large where it grips yours.
He holds onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed. You step forward, letting him pull you between his knees. His hands settle on your hips, and you can feel their heat through the fabric of your shirt.
He doesn’t ask if you're sure again and you’re grateful because you’re not sure if you could form any kind of response right now. Instead, he slides his hands up and under your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your breath hitches as his hands smooth over your ribs and around to your back, the tips of his fingers mapping out the curve of your spine, skimming over each notch and bump. They climb higher, the fabric of your shirt bunching around his wrists. 
“Can I take this off, baby?”
Your heart jumps to your throat but you nod anyway. He grabs the hem and tugs your shirt up and and you lift your arms so he can slip it off over your head. He tosses it aside, the fabric falling to the floor beside the bed. You’re left exposed, vulnerable and bare, save for the worn out bra you wear, a few too many washes and a few years past its prime.
Your hands itch where they hang by your side with the instinct to cover yourself, hide the imperfections that you know so well, the stretch marks, the softness of your stomach, the way the cups of your bra are just a bit too small and spill over the tops.
But then he’s pressing his lips to the space just above your navel, his scruff tickling your skin and making the muscles in your abdomen jump and twitch. His hands find your waist again, and when his lips continue their path upwards, his palms follow, skimming up your sides, thumbs tracing the outline of your ribs before stopping at the band of your bra.
"This too?" he asks, voice quiet and husky.
"Yeah" you answer with a squeak, and he grins like a kid in a candy store.
His fingers undo the clasp deftness that makes your knees go weak, the straps slipping from your shoulders and the whole thing sliding down your arms, landing somewhere near your shirt. 
"God, baby, look at you" he murmurs, his hands cupping the underside of your breasts, his thumbs sweeping over the tops and then down the slope and around your nipple. Your breath hitches, the gentle touch sending a shiver up your spine. "You're fucking perfect."
The praise is unexpected and it sends a jolt of heat through your core. You whimper quietly and his hands are on you again, the calloused palms rough on the soft skin of your breasts. He kneads the flesh, squeezing gently before rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling and pinching and teasing. 
He pulls you closer and ducks his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes dark and hooded, and his pupils blown wide with desire.
"Can I?" he asks.
"Please."
He leans in and wraps his lips around a peaked nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, the gentle heat of his mouth on your skin making your knees weak.
His mouth works on one breast, tongue flicking and teasing while his free hand continues its work on the other. Pleasure builds and coils deep inside, the sensation unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome. You whimper and he pulls away, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before giving it a sweet parting kiss.
He turns his attention to the other, his teeth grazing over the stiff peak and drawing a whine from your lips. He sighs when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at the strands until he groans softly against you. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressing against it and dragging up and around, swirling and flicking. You’re already breathless, panting, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead.
"Feels good, Joel," you whisper shyly. 
"I know, honey" he says, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he pulls away. "Feel good anywhere else?"
He doesn't wait for a response, simply slips a hand between your thighs, cupping you through the denim, the simple action making you squeak.
"Here, huh?" he says, the heel of his palm pressing against you.
You gasp softly and nod, biting your lip, too shy to say anything.
"Get on the bed, baby."
You comply, crawling onto the mattress and scooting backwards towards the pillows, sitting at the head of the bed as you watch him. His eyes never leave you as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Your heart thumps as you stare at his bare chest, his tanned skin dotted with a light dusting of salt and pepper hair. He's broad, his shoulders thick and chest solid. Your fingers burn with the urge to reach out and touch him, so you do, extending a tentative, slightly shaky hand.
He watches you closely, eyes flitting down to the palm pressed against his chest before meeting yours again, his mouth curling into a smile.
"You can touch" he says, reaching down to curl a hand around your wrist and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding your hand back down to his chest. "I think most people would enjoy that."
"You're having entirely too much fun with this,” you mumble while your fingers spread out across his pec.  
"It is fun" he counters, his own hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the seam of your jeans and rubbing up and down. "But it'll be more fun once these come off"
Your lips part, a puff of air rushing out.
"You gonna take them off?" you ask, the words slipping out, bold and unbidden.
He grins, his brow quirking up.
"Look at you, being all bossy"
"You like it" you say, finally feeling some of the anxiety slipping away, the familiar and comfortable banter between the two of you slipping into place in a new, unfamiliar situation.
His smile takes up nearly his whole face as moves closer. 
“I sure do.” 
He looms over you, bracing himself on an elbow next to your head before ducking down to kiss you, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth, warm and insistent. You sigh into it, your hands finding the warm, bare skin of his back, muscles gliding beneath your palms as you slide them up and around, fingertips digging into his shoulders. He's so warm and solid and you can't help the little noise that slips out, a soft, needy moan. You're about to break the kiss and beg him to touch you, give you something, anything, but he pulls back before you can. 
"Impatient. I like that too" he says, voice barely above a whisper.
He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. He continues his path, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones and down the valley between your breasts, his beard tickling your sternum.
His palm presses into the top of your thigh, and you instinctively open your legs for him, his hand immediately moving to cup you through the denim, thick fingers pressing against the seam and the bundle of nerves just below. Your hips rock up, seeking more pressure and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself right now.
You huff, and he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, but he relents, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and tugging the fabric down, revealing the pair of pink panties underneath. 
Joel sits up, pulling your jeans down your legs and letting them drop off the side of the bed, the sound of the denim hitting the floor indicating that you've officially crossed a line that neither of you can come back from. But if the hungry, desperate look on his face and the way you're practically vibrating underneath him are any indication, neither of you want to.
"I'll start with just my fingers, yeah?" he says, his hands running up the insides of your thighs, touch light and teasing, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. You nod dumbly, at a complete loss for words right now.
He ducks his head, his lips landing on the smooth skin stretched over your hip bone. You squirm, ticklish, and he grins. His mouth is a great distraction from his hand, which has found its way back in between your legs, his fingers now pressing against damp fabric.
"Shit" he curses, his touch firm. "Fuckin' soaked already. Am I just that good?" he quips with a smirk.
"Jesus do you ever shut up" you gripe, but the effect is ruined by the whimper that escapes you when his thumb sweeps up, pressing hard against your clit. 
"Oh, that's a pretty sound" he murmurs, repeating the motion to pull out another one, your hips bucking against his hand.
"Now," he starts, his tone shifting to the same one he uses when he's about to impart some life lesson. "This guy you're gonna see, or any man for that matter, should always take care of you before himself. That's just common fuckin' sense. And if he doesn't, you send him on his way" he continues. "Because a man that don't wanna see a woman get off is no fuckin' man at all"
You're about to interrupt, tell him he's an idiot and ask him to please, please, get on with it, but his fingers sliding under the elastic of your panties, swiftly pulling them down your legs steals the breath from your lungs. Your pulse sky rockets and you shift underneath him, crossing your thighs in instinctual effort to hide yourself from him. 
"M'sorry I didn't shave or anything" you blurt out, your throat tight with anxiety and embarrassment once again 
Joel just shakes his head as he pries your legs apart.
"Baby, I could not give less of a shit about that."
"But-"
"No" he says, the word firm, an edge of command to his tone. "You’re not apologizin’ for that. And if a man gives a shit, he's a fuckin' child who doesn't deserve the honor of bein' between these thighs" he says, pushing your knees further apart.
You nod and bite your lip, the words that are just so very Joel, settling in your chest and easing the tension in your body. You let out a long, slow breath and relax, trying to ease the nervousness.
"There ya go" he says, his fingers dancing along your slit, gathering the slick pooling there. You shudder at the gentle touch, your hips rolling up just a bit before you force them back down into the mattress, trying to keep yourself still.
"Nuh-uh. None of that" he says, immediately noticing the movement. He slides his free hand under you, his palm pushing into the small of your back and encouraging you to move again, to lean into your pleasure. "You take what you want, baby. Show me how good it feels. That's all I wanna see."
You squirm and whimper, the simple, almost lazy touch driving you insane. You've touched yourself before, brought yourself over the edge while imagining what it would be like to have the things you read about and watch in videos happen to you. But you've never managed to make yourself feel this good, never felt pleasure so intense, never felt a burning pressure in your abdomen so demanding that it radiates all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.
And he's barely touched you.
"How's that feel?"
You can't even form the words, so you just nod and hum, the sound a mix of a whimper and a moan, your hips rolling up against his palm. He chuckles, and then the pressure increases, the friction building, his fingers slipping down, collecting more of your wetness to ease the drag against your skin.
He moves his fingers down, down, down, the tip of one circling your entrance, gathering the wetness pooling there. You whine loudly, any shame and modesty you once had replaced entirely with desperate need and pure desire.
"Please, Joel" you whisper, voice shaky.
"I gotcha" he says, dipping his fingertip in, just barely, and pulling a moan from deep in your chest. "Gonna give you what you need"
You groan, a long, low sound as he slowly sinks his finger into you. It's nothing like your own, so perfectly thick and long/ And you found the spot before, the spot that he curls his finger up into, but never at this angle, never with the perfect amount of pressure that he's applying right now. 
"Mmm, look at that" he coos as you clench tightly around his finger.
"Joel, god, feels so good" you whimper pathetically. 
"I know, honey, I know."
You clench again, the cockiness and self-assured attitude that usually gets under your skin now ignites your whole body in an entirely different way. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, your head tipping back as the pleasure builds.
"Another" you beg, the fullness not nearly enough.
"Greedy girl" he chides, but he pulls his finger out, and slides two back in. You swear that you could come from this alone, but he doesn't let you, the hand that was supporting your lower back disappearing, only to reappear between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit with firm, steady strokes.
White hot pleasure wraps around the base of your spine, the dual sensations of his fingers and his thumb sending you spiraling. The sounds falling from your lips are unrecognizable, high and desperate as your mind goes blissfully blank, your entire focus on the heat coiling in your abdomen. Your eyebrows pinch together and you bury your face in the pillow next to your head, trying to hide the ridiculous expression you're surely making, but you inhale the traces of his shampoo and cologne that cling to the fabric, the scent pushing you even closer to the edge. 
You try to hold back. Surely you're not supposed to come this quickly, not just from two fingers and a thumb. Surely that's a sign that you're an easy lay, or too inexperienced, or-
"Just let it happen, baby. I can feel it, Just let go" Joel says, his voice cutting through the thoughts racing through your mind, his fingers crooking inside you and dragging across the spot that makes your hips stutter and a cry fall from your lips.
You can't hold back any longer, the pleasure cresting and crashing down around you. You squeeze his fingers, your back arching, the heels of your feet digging into the mattress as you roll your hips up into his touch, seeking more and more and more. And he gives and gives and gives, working you through it and drawing it out for as long as he can before you melt into the mattress, bones and muscles liquid and warm and satisfied.
He pulls his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness draws a disappointed whine from you, his answering chuckle making you smile.
"That was- fuck" you sigh, not quite capable of coherent thought.
"Absolutely mind-blowing? Yeah I know" he teases. You roll your eyes but don't say anything because it's true, and his cocky grin fades into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you return to Earth. 
"Can I- can I return the favor?" you ask, your gaze flicking down to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.
He grunts and shakes his head.
"Not yet. Got somethin' else in mind."
You frown and push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he shifts from his position. You're about to ask what he's going to do until he's settling himself on his stomach between your thighs. You suck in a sharp breath as you realize exactly what he's got planned and your heart jumps, anxiety clouding your mind once again. 
He rests his cheek on your thigh, his eyes meeting yours.
"Alright?"
You swallow and nod, licking your lips.
"Yeah. Just... no one's ever-"
"Yeah, I got that much, that's why we're here" he says, smiling smugly when you glare at him. 
"But what if it's not good? Or I don't taste good? Or-"
"Stop" he says, the single word halting your runaway train of thought. "You need lessons in relaxing, not sex. You're so fucking tense all the time"
"Sorry" you say, immediately cringing.
He sighs, his breath ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. "What did I say about apologizin'?" he says, his tone slightly sharp.
"I know. Sorry- shit, sorry! Fuck!"
He barks out a laugh and you huff, bringing up both hands to scrub over your face.
"See what I mean?"
"Yes, yes, you're very smart and know everything"
He hums and nips at your thigh.
"Damn right I do."
You want to snark back, but his mouth is moving, his lips trailing down the inside of your thigh and towards where you're aching for him, slick and wet and throbbing. He takes his time, laying kisses on your thighs, hips, and stomach, his scruff scraping the sensitive skin, huffing out a laugh when you start to squirm, your patience wearing thin.
His hands smooth over the soft flesh of your inner thighs, urging you to spread them wider before spreading you open with his thumbs, exposing you completely. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and the urge to close your legs and hide yourself from his gaze is overwhelming, the embarrassment making your skin burn. But before you can even think about closing them, his tongue is on you, sliding up the length of you and circling your clit. The moan that escapes you is embarrassingly loud and high pitched, but the mortification is easily swallowed up by the pleasure.
He hums against you, the sound and the feeling sending a shudder through your body. Your hands grip the pillow behind your head and you try not to buck up into his mouth, but your attempts are futile. He doesn't seem to mind though, in fact you think it spurs him on, his tongue flattening against you and lapping at you messily, the wetness he's coaxed from you smearing across his mouth and chin.
The sound is lewd and obscene, the sloppy, slick noises and the soft grunts and groans that rumble in his chest as he works you up. He pulls back, his breath coming out in pants, his chest heaving as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and hooded.
"Don't know what you were worried about" he says, his voice low and raspy. "You taste fuckin' divine"
His beard is shiny and damp, his lips glistening, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in it. The sight of him looking so completely disheveled and filthy has you clenching around nothing, the ache almost too much to bear.
He doesn't say anything else, just ducks his head and gets back to work, his mouth moving with a renewed urgency, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them further apart, allowing him better access.
Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a constant stream of moans and whines and babbling pleas and praises falling from your lips, but you're not really sure what you're saying, not really sure of anything except the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your veins.
You hear him moan, can feel the vibration against your skin, and you glance down at him, and that's a mistake. The sight of him, his eyes closed and brows drawn together in concentration, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks and nips and laps at you and– is he fucking grinding his hips into the mattress?
You're fucked.
A throaty moan tumbles past your lips as your hips start to rock, a rhythm forming as you chase your orgasm. His hands leave your thighs and he slides one arm up, the weight of it resting against your abdomen to keep you still while his other hand snakes down, fingers dipping inside again, finding the spot that makes you see stars.
"Fuck, Joel, please, oh my god, I'm so- please"
He groans in response, the hand on your stomach pressing down harder to meet the two fingers curling and stroking inside of you. You cry out at the increased pressure right as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud, his fingers moving faster and faster. Flames lick up your spine and spread throughout your body, threatening to burn you alive. 
Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you and turning your limbs to jello. Wave after wave of blinding euphoria crashes over you and all you can do is cling to the pillow and arch your back, your toes curling as he continues to work his fingers and tongue, happily letting you ride his face and grind into his mouth.
He doesn't let up, not until you're a whimpering, trembling mess, physically pushing his head away when it becomes too much. He pulls back reluctantly, a wicked grin plastered to his face, his chin and mouth absolutely soaked. You're panting, struggling to catch your breath as the aftershocks make you shiver despite the content warmth spreading throughout your entire body.You feel sated and sleepy, a bone deep satisfaction making you feel boneless. 
But as you come down from your high, rational thoughts start to filter in and you suddenly remember the reason this all started in the first place.
You're here to learn, he should be teaching you how to please a man.
How to please him. 
You watch as he gets off the bed and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. Your eyes shamelessly rake over him, the dusty pink flush that decorates his neck and chest, the curve of his belly down to the impressive bulge in his jeans. 
You push yourself up, ignoring the way your arms tremble with the effort. He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face no doubt looking for signs of distress.
"You ok?" he asks, eyebrows pinched together in his typical concerned Joel fashion.
"Yeah" you say, a little breathlessly. "But I still want to..."
Your voice trails off and you glance down at his crotch, hoping he gets the message.
"That's alright, baby. It's a lot, we don't-"
"No" you interrupt, a hint of desperation in your voice. "You said you would teach me. Please, Joel. I-I wanna learn" You hope it's a good enough cover to the fact that you really just want him, your original goal forgotten. "I just don't want to embarrass myself" you add, pouting slightly for good measure, praying to god that he can’t detect the underlying want for him and him only.
He watches you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his decision. And then his eyes narrow, because of course he knows. There's never been an instance where you succeeded in lying to this man. He always, always knows when something is off.
"Alright" he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. "Dick sucking class is now in session"
You groan, your face twisting with visible disgust.
"Oh my god, that was terrible."
"What? It's true" he says with a shrug.
"That is- no, no way. Never say those words ever again. Ever." you say, pointing a finger at him accusingly.
"Or what?" he challenges, taking a step towards the bed.
You gulp and lick your lips.
"Or..."
He waits expectantly for a response. You have none, so you just shake your head and look away.
"Yeah, that's what I thought"
You glare at him and then sigh.
"You're a bully"
"Am I?” He asks, taking a step back to give you more room. “ 'Cause you're the one that asked me to teach ya. On your knees, kid. Let's see whatcha got."
You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress a grin. You don't know how he does it, but his ability to make a joke or a quip out of anything always has a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, even when the jokes are awful and the puns are terrible. Even when the joke is about you getting ready to suck his dick. 
"You're a bully and a pervert" you say, sliding off the bed and sliding to your knees, the plush carpet doing a decent job at protecting your joints.
"And proud of it.”
"Pride is a sin."
"So is premarital sex, so I'll see you in hell, honey"
You snort and look up at him from your place on the floor, grinning widely.
"You're ridiculous"
"You love it"
And that's the thing, isn't it?
Because you do. You love his innate ability to make you laugh, to make you smile even when he's about to take your fucking virginity. He knows how to comfort you, how to put you at ease, when to push you with his teasing and when to pull back and let you take control. You've never met a person who has so effortlessly made their way into your heart.
And here you are, on your knees for him under the false pretense of practicing for a man who's name you can't even remember right now.
You shake your head, the motion clearing the thoughts and the emotions that were swirling in your head, the ones that make you want to stand up and kiss him, kiss him until your lips are numb and you're left gasping for air.
"Joel?" you say his name softly.
"Yeah, baby?"
"Teach me."
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Part 2 is already in the works I promise hehehe thank you for reading I hope u all enjoy!!
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won4youu · 1 month
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Kiss Cam.
pairing: bsf!jake x downbad!reader
genres: fluff, suggestive?, idiots to lovers(sorta)
wc: 5.7k
warning: well there's a kiss cam involved so they kiss 🤭, use of cuss words, also idk anything about American football so I'm sorry if there's anything wrong about it lolol
a/n: this has been collecting dust in our drafts for wayyy too long lol soooo if you like it please reblog and consider following!
written by both @raven-naaaaa and @theaspen
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You know that feeling when you look at your best friend and your heart skips a beat, and their smile makes you smile and the entire world seems to fade into the background and it feels like it's just you and him in the room?
Yeah, apparently not everyone felt that way about their best friend. But..you did.
Jake Sim made you so goddamn happy.
Whenever his eyes searched for yours in every crowded room, and the instant smile that accompanied his starry eyes when he recognized your face, your heart did a little tap dance.Either you were projecting your thoughts onto him or just maybe, he liked you too.
But here's the thing, you don't think “like” would do justice to the feelings you harboured for the boy, and using the big L word made your insides cringe.
You've never been in love before. Crushes? Sure, you've had those. But these huge feelings? Those selfish instincts that came over whenever his smile was shared with everyone else as well? Was that normal? You didn't want to know.
"Hi __," his voice is warm and familiar. His arms wrap around your waist as he pulls you into one of those hugs you've come to love.
"Hi Jake,” You greet him back. Internally scoffing at yourself. Because practically anyone could hear the giddy smile that accompanied your voice.
Jake pulls you even closer, if that was even possible. Smiling into your shoulder as well. It's been a few seconds, but his hands still linger on your waist and when he pulls back you can still feel his touch.
Jake's touch is gone, but your heart still feels that stupid annoying rush. You ignore it completely, because honestly? The intensity of your feelings scare you, and the way Jake throws you the yearning glances scare you even more. In fear that you're probably just being delusional all by yourself.
"You look good," he tells you as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
You don't try to fight his touch. If anything you lean into it.
Jake seems to have noticed that- his thumb traces some invisible shape on your cheek, eyes so full of adoration.
"Thank you," you reply bashfully. Somehow you could never be nonchalant and cool to him like you are with others. And it pisses you off.
"Come on, let's get to our seats," he says, holding your hand and dragging you through the semi crowd and toward the seating area.
Coming to a football game would definitely not be your first choice, but here you were, with Jake because Heeseung “dropped out” at the last minute and he needed some company.
Okay, here's the deal. You didn't know much about football, but you just came along because well, you're a fool in love.
You didn't mind it honestly, because if watching some dude run around the field with a ball made Jake happy, you'd sit through it for however many times he wanted.
So there you were sitting mindlessly nipping at your sandwich.
“___, the first quarter is done,” Jake grins as he sits down beside you.
“How many more of these do I have to sit through Sim,” you fake whine as Jake laughs beside you.
“You do realise you didn't have to come along with me right?” He chuckles, throwing an arm across your shoulder.
“And leave you here all by yourself to look like a loser with no friends?” You scoff, giving him a smug look, “I'm practically saving your reputation here Sim. A thanks and a lifetime supply of chocolate muffins would do.”
Jake simply rolls his eyes at your faux uppity look.
You shift in your chair as you look around the field, “What do people even do in these breaks?” you ask.
Jake points towards the huge screen that was displaying the results a minute ago.
“See that,” you hum mindlessly, “that is a kiss cam. So during the breaks, people usually just look at other people snogging each other.” You snort at his words and look at the screen. As if on cue, the camera points towards a young couple. The couple share a flustered look before pecking each other and the entire stadium erupts into cheers, and you couldn't help the smile on your face.
“That's so cute…but also lowkey weird, what if it points towards siblings? Or like friends? Wouldn't that put them in an awkward position?” Your question is genuine, but Jake only hangs on to one thing you said.
“Friends?”, he parrots, as his cheeks flush pink, “like us..?” His voice is low, but you catch onto it. Your face heats up at the thought of kissing him. You lock eyes with the boy. There was something so magnetic about his eyes.
You let out an awkward chuckle, “I mean, we don't have to worry about that, no?” You force out a laugh, fiddling with your fingers. “It's not like the camera is gonna point at us.”
“___,” Jake whispers, “you might want to look at the screen.”
Well, fuck.
The camera was pointing towards a very familiar young couple, well at least they looked like a couple on screen. You swore to God your heart was going to jump out of your rib cage. You turn away from Jake, avoiding the camera and Jake laughs awkwardly, crossing his arms to sign ‘no’, which had the audience booing at the two of you.
Thankfully, the camera quickly pans towards another couple, who seem more than happy to kiss each other.
Jake breathes a sigh of relief which you don't miss. Your chest heaves a tiny tiny little bit in disappointment.
Luck definitely wasn't on your side today because soon after, the camera panned towards you and Jake. Again.
Jake laughs as he signs ‘no’, earning more boos from the crowd. You looked up at the screen and noticed that the camera was still on the two of you.
You don't really know what got into you, maybe it was the consistent booing by the crowd that finally tipped you over, because one second you were looking at Jake on the screen and the other your hands were on his face as he looked up at you with wide eyes.
“Sim, I'm going to kiss you,” you rush as you pull him towards you, “If you don't want this tell me now.” He doesn't really remember much of what he said. All Jake remembers is the feeling of his lips on yours.
He could have sworn he heard fireworks when you pulled him closer and crashed your lips against his. Your lips were soft against his and there was a sense of longing in them. God, you drove him mad.
He lets out a groan as his hands find company at your waist, pressing and feeling your skin. He couldn't believe this was happening.
You couldn't believe it either. The moment his lips were on yours, it felt like it was just the two of you in the stadium, but unfortunately, the loud cheers of the audience brought you back to your senses as you heaved against his chest, him burying his head into your neck.
“Fuck, you have no idea how long I've waited for that,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your back. “Yeah?” You look up at him with a flustered smile.
“Yeah.” He says, gulping. The rosy flush on his cheeks still present. The camera isn't pointing at you two anymore and the game has already resumed again. But the two of you can't help but continue to act like giddy idiots.
You're definitely gonna have to thank Heeseung for dipping out on Jake today.
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snekdood · 1 year
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im probably not the best person to say this given the way ppl see me on here but like... @ some cis women... who is blowing smoke up your ass this much that you think you can do this shit and that you’ll actually find “the perfect dude” bc i promise going on social media to find lonely desperate simpy dudes who are so insecure they need the validation of some woman whos a stranger online to feel like they’re worth something in the moment? i’m sorry but you and i both know you’re never gonna find That Dude, especially not this way. how in tf do you think you’re so worth it to do this shit like sdjbsdj these dudes need to stop fawning over women who are like this bc the truth is they don’t even want to actually date people, a lot of women like this just go on dating sites or whatever to ALSO just validate themselves. they need to know or tell themselves men are chasing after them so they can forever continue disregarding them and forever continue to simp after that one celebrity she’ll never get an inch close to fucking let alone date.
#videos#fave#sorry to be harsh but gawddamn.#idk where yall get off thinking you're worth chasing like!!! im sorry but i do not give an inch of a fuck.#do you see me??? you need to be chasing ME if you want a fuckin chance alright#yall find the lonliest most touch deprived men who are probably on the brink of suicide to drain of their ability to validate you so you#can just dump them in the trash later after you're all full#what a boring type of person my god. and im sure you make this shit your personality too likwe.#wtf are your skills. bc being hot isnt enough for me lol.#id much rather die alone with dignity and self respect than give women like this the time of day let alone the moment to feel like#shes above me enough to just randomly earn my validation. i do not fuckin care ma'am!! sorry#i do not care about validating and encouraging your narcissism. and i dont like to call women narcissistic all that often but christ.#go become a lesbian already and leave men alone lol bc clearly you dont actually wanna date them#like im not saying confidence in yourself and knowing you're worth wanting is bad. its just that we all know this girl isnt sincere.#she doesnt want to actually find a guy. shes waiting for fuckin. harry styles or something to swoop in.#also shes deeply insecure too. we know shes also doing this to feel validated on how she looks since she knows so many dudes are#looking. and clearly she cant validate herself so she relies on shit like this and i bet my money she does it on tinder too#if you're this distrusting of men that you gotta put up all these weird rules like 'not talking till u find the perfectly hot enough dude'#which you and i both know is stupid and arbitrary- maybe if you distrust men this much you shouldnt be looking for date in them#bc lord knows all those dudes were lying about being 6 feet lol#this is like somehow a worst way to find dates than tinder#congratulations. i didnt know that was possible lol
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appocalipse · 6 months
Note
heyy if ur taking requests could u maybe do like bestfriends steve + reader where steve, eddie, nancy and robin have to pick up reader from a party and she’s like REAL drunk and just idk super clingy w steve and doesn’t wanna not be touching him. maybe eddie, nancy and robin all make fun of him for it but they acc find it rly cute.
thank you for your request! ♥♥♥ | 2.2k words
"Stevie!"
You collide into him suddenly, nearly knocking him back a step or two with the force of your momentum; there's a smile on Steve's face when you look up at him through eyes that are more than a little hazy with inebriation. You're drunk. Probably way past drunk, if the way the world won't seem to hold still is anything to go by, but you don't care. There are other things vying for your attention—like how warm he feels against you, how safe he makes you feel, how pretty he looks from up close...
"Whoa," Steve says as you lean even further into him and loop your arms around his waist in a tight hug. "How much did you have to drink, exactly?"
He doesn't mean it in a mean way, which is why you grin up at him from where you've got your cheek pressed firmly to his chest. You can feel his heart beating under the palm of your hand now, a steady and calming rhythm that soothes something inside of you.
"Dunno," you reply, grinning stupidly when you catch sight of maybe three copies of Eddie Munson standing off to Steve's left; all of them have identical amused looks on their faces. "Might've had, like, a couple..."
Steve sighs deeply, though there's no exasperation or disappointment to be found in his expression when he tilts your face upwards to look you over properly. You just beam dopily at him, because he's so pretty right now you don't know what else to do.
"Dude," Eddie speaks up, drawing Steve's gaze away from you while your own attention goes back to pressing yourself even more snugly into him, "she is totally sloshed."
You frown, shaking your head in fervent disagreement.
"Am not!"
"Sure you aren't, sweetheart," Eddie agrees placidly, but you get the impression he doesn't really mean it.
Before you can point this out, however, the blurry shape of Robin Buckley steps forward. The room is dark with flashing strobe lights and smoky with incense and cigarette smoke, but you'd recognize her voice anywhere.
"Who let you drink this much?" Robin asks as she lifts a hand up to brush some hair back from your forehead.
It's oddly soothing and so you lean into the contact with a happy hum. Robin and the others laugh — but then again, it sounds kinder than mean, the kind of laugh that bubbles up when you find something unexpectedly endearing, and so you don't mind as much as you maybe should.
"Nobody," you mumble as you press your face into the side of Steve's neck and take a deep breath in; his scent is the same as always, earthy and warm with an underlying hint of that stupid spray he likes to use sometimes. "I'm here alone. 'Cause Steve here blew me off for you guys, but that's okay," you say, even though, to be fair, it sort of isn't true — he didn't blow you off.
"Hey," Steve starts, sounding half-indignant and half-apologetic all at once. He's got an arm around your shoulder now, supporting you and keeping you upright, which makes you want to tangle yourself up in him completely. "You didn't tell me you wanted me to come hang out with you tonight!"
You sigh mournfully against his skin, feeling wistful all of a sudden. It's true. You hadn't told him. That was partially due to the fact that you had been trying to prove to yourself that you weren't so desperately and helplessly infatuated with him that you needed his presence constantly, but that plan had obviously backfired on you spectacularly.
"No," you mutter unhappily as Steve moves the two of you towards a nearby couch. "But I missed you. Don't wanna miss you."
Nancy, Robin, and Eddie, who are watching the two of you with expressions of varying degrees of amusement, exchange looks. Steve pretends not to notice, probably because he knows he won't like what they have to say if he hears it, and instead guides you down onto the cushions next to him. "You're drunk."
"You're pretty," you reply without hesitation, even though you're very clearly changing the subject. "It's unfair, y'know?"
You hear Robin snort, followed by a quiet thud like someone's just been slapped on the arm, and you know it's her who laughed, and that it must have been Nancy who'd shut her up. You don't know where Eddie is; you're not even sure when he wandered off, to be honest. You're too focused on Steve and the way his face looks under the colorful flashing lights.
"Oh yeah?" he asks, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too widely at your comment. His eyes are bright with laughter when you meet his gaze and nod confidently. "How do I get 'unfair', exactly?"
"'S all in the face," you say matter-of-factly, your own fingers trailing down his cheek in an almost absentminded gesture. "Kinda makes it hard to think about anything else sometimes, if I'm being real here. Like, it's not really fair, 'cause then what are we supposed to talk about? Oh, oh—and then there's your hair!"
"My hair?"
Robin wheezes somewhere behind you, which would have made you giggle if you were still paying attention to the people in the room besides Steve, but you're not.
"Mmhmm," you hum, your eyes running over the soft brown locks on top of his head. "Love it. Wanna touch it all the time. Y'see, Steve? You see? This is why it's not fair at all. And, and—" you trail off here for dramatic effect, squinting at him theatrically before leaning closer with your hand cupped to the side of your mouth, as if you're about to share something private. "—the way you make my insides feel? So, so unfair. Totally your fault, buddy."
"Wha-" Steve croaks out, looking alarmed and caught off guard by your drunken confession. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh," you regain your serious tone, frowning at him in a somewhat bemused manner when he continues to gape at you. "Not 'sposed to tell you. S'not the rules."
Eddie barks out a laugh somewhere off to your left, but Steve ignores him. "Rules?"
"Yeah, 's against the rules, dummy," you say, like he should've already known that. "Gotta follow the rules! Duh. Steve."
"Yeah, Steve, duh," Robin pipes up, earning herself a glare from Steve as well as a smirk from Eddie. "Oops, sorry. Please, continue."
"Can I touch your hair? Like, please, 'cause I might die if I don't, 'kay? If that's okay. Gotta test the theory. Just a little bit, though." You can tell by his expression that he wants to laugh, and that he's also mildly worried that you've lost your mind. "Please?"
Robin, Eddie and Nancy have their hands clapped over their mouths to contain their laughter. You're too drunk to notice, but Steve narrows his eyes at them in warning. "Yes," he says. "Just—yeah, go ahead."
With a little noise of excitement, you reach out to card your fingers through his hair. He smells really good — like clean laundry and fresh pine trees — and the feel of his hair in your palm is exactly what you had imagined, though you're loathe to pull your hand away now that you've felt it.
Steve goes unnaturally still as you press your face into the juncture between his neck and shoulder, a move he should have expected but didn't, and you sigh happily when the scent of his cologne hits you full force. He's like a living, breathing, cuddly teddy bear, you think, a combination of warmth, softness, and comfort all rolled up in one gorgeous, handsome, unobtainable package.
"You're warm," you mumble, feeling like you could fall asleep right now. "So, so warm. 'S like you've got a space heater in your chest, 'n that's like, so awesome."
He blinks a few times, momentarily speechless as he tries to come to terms with the fact that you are, in fact, drunk enough to be saying whatever the hell comes to your mind. "Uh, thanks?"
"Smell nice too," you murmur, hugging him tighter to you. "Like, wow. Love your hair, like, love love."
His cheeks are burning hot now, his heart beating erratically in his chest when he notices Eddie staring at the two of you with a knowing gleam in his eye. "That's—thank you, but, hey, come on now," Steve says, his voice faltering a little. "Let's get you home, okay?"
"I don't wanna."
"Don't you wanna sleep in your bed?"
You pause, considering his words, and eventually concede that, yes, your bed does sound lovely right about now, so you give him a brief nod in response. "I guess, but can you come too?"
He chokes on air, but manages to play it off by clearing his throat. "What—to your bed? No!"
"Why not?"
Steve shifts a little under your intense, alcohol-addled scrutiny; he feels strangely guilty, as though he's letting you down by saying no. "Because you're drunk?" he says, feeling flustered and unreasonably nervous all of a sudden.
You scrunch up your face in a pout. "Oh, that's a dumb reason."
Steve chuckles and you sigh happily again, because you love his laugh and everything else about him, and he seems to realize this, given the way his expression softens. "Come on, you drunkard. Let's go home," he says gently, tugging on your arm in an attempt to get you to stand.
You resist at first, shaking your head stubbornly as you hold onto him. "Can't. My legs don't work anymore. They're all wobbly."
Steve closes his eyes for a moment, huffs out a soft laugh, and you can't help but grin up at him. He's so pretty that, like, how is that even allowed? How can you be around him and not spontaneously combust or something?
"Well, what if I carried you?"
"Like a princess?"
Steve looks at you with an expression you can't decipher — it's halfway between incredulous and endeared, and it makes your heart feel too big for your rib cage.
"How romantic," Nancy observes.
"So long as she doesn't throw up on him," Eddie adds, nodding sagely in agreement.
"Oh, I hope she does," Robin says, with a devious smile, "he'd deserve it for being such a coward."
"I'm...right here, guys, and I can still hear you." Steve finally says, throwing them a scathing look that only makes them laugh. "If you're not going to be helpful, you can wait in the car."
"As if," Eddie counters.
Steve opens his mouth to tell him where exactly he can stick his opinions, when you grab the front of his shirt and drag him closer.
"Steve," you say, the smile falling from your face as a sudden thought occurs to you. "Are you mad at me? Because I can go home by myself. That's okay."
"Hey, no," he replies softly, "I'm not mad at you, sweetheart. Not ever."
"'Sweetheart'? Really?" Eddie mutters to Nancy, who elbows him in the ribs when he doesn't lower his voice in time. "Ow, okay, okay—just saying. Don't want them to keep dancing around each other forever, is all."
"I'm not dancing," you tell him, completely unaware of Eddie's snickering, "I don't have any shoes on, Eddie. Wouldn't be able to dance without shoes on. Silly."
"My bad," Eddie says, his lips twitching with badly concealed laughter, "forgive me."
Steve scowls at him before turning his attention back to you, his face so close to yours that you can momentarily feel the tickle of his breath against your skin. "Okay, come on," he says, "up we go."
And then, in one swift movement, he slides his arm under your knees and scoops you up into his arms. You let out a squeak of surprise and automatically wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself.
"Oh, oh, oh," you say excitedly, "you really are gonna carry me."
"Told you so." Steve adjusts his grip on you and makes his way towards the exit. "Are you good? Am I hurting you?"
You shake your head slowly, grinning as you stare at him from a whole new angle. "No," you tell him, feeling much more awake than you were moments before. "This is...this is like, actually kinda cool."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," you repeat, smiling shyly back at him. "Feel like a real life Cinderella now. Whoa, you're, like, super strong."
"Yeah, Stevie, you're 'super strong.'" Eddie teases, waggling his eyebrows when Steve sends him a quick glare. "Aw, don't look at me like that. It's cute. The two of you."
Nancy doesn't tease like Robin and Eddie do. She walks behind Steve, making sure to stay a couple steps behind to give the two of you some privacy. Even so, when you look over your shoulder to make sure nobody's listening, she gives you a wink and a small thumbs-up that makes you smile.
The parking lot is filled with teenagers all wandering aimlessly in groups, so it takes Steve a while to navigate his way through the crowd. By the time he finds the spot where he parked his BMW, you've grown drowsy enough to rest your head on his shoulder.
Eddie immediately pops open the door to the backseat, slapping it a few times as he looks over at Steve and grins. "Hurry it up, lover boy," he drawls out, "she looks half-asleep already."
"She's fine," Steve shoots back, frowning in annoyance when Eddie and Robin both pretend to yawn exaggeratedly, "shut up. I hate you guys."
2K notes · View notes
berzahoes · 10 months
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manifestation, baby! | tom blyth
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summary: fans find out tom’s girlfriend has an old youtube channel where she reviewed the ballad of songbirds and snakes (and she definitely manifested her life)
an: the way i thought about this idea and quickly wrote it down so i didn’t forget it. i used to have an app that made those fake tweets but i’m just tired to make fake profiles 😭 maybe i’ll change it later idk
for the purpose of this imagine, let’s pretend tbosas book was published between 2017-2019
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liked by zeglerslove, 444_bri and 35,377 others
tomblythxsnow apparently tom’s girlfriend has an old youtube channel where she reviews books and she reviewed the ballad of songbirds and snakes and she literally manifested her future 😭
lucymygf WHATTT WHATS HER CHANNEL NAME
tomblythxsnow it’s yn’s book corner. she hasn’t posted since 2019 ngl i need her to review a little life because that book destroyed me
nat76_ omg i used to watch her videos!! i’m still subscribed to her 😭 i remember only buying and reading the books she liked because i wanted to be her so bad
j4ckaszlol “if someone ever makes a movie adaptation of this book and casts someone attractive to play snow then i am sorry for the person i become” REALLLLL
graybairdsmockingjay dude the part where she said “i’m calling it now whoever plays young snow will be my boyfriend. movie studios always cast someone attractive as the younger version of a character!” MY JAW DROPPED SHE NEEDS TO TELL ME HER WAYS
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“guess what rachel just sent me.” you heard tom say when he arrived to your shared apartment.
“wedding invitations?!” you gasped as you almost stood up from the sofa since you were watching reruns of criminal minds, but tom stopped you.
“no, it’s better!” tom sat beside you and showed you his phone. “why didn’t you tell me you had a youtube channel?” on his phone screen was your review of the ballad of songbirds and snakes, which had become a very popular video over the past couple of days.
you hid your face with a pillow and groaned. “don’t remind me. i just wanted to talk about my books and my family didn’t care. don’t watch it! it’s embarrassing!”
“i think it’s cute. aw look, your dog made a cameo!” he pointed at your old dog you used to have that walked into the frame.
“indi! no, come sit right here. oh . . . and she’s walking away. okay, anyways.” your younger self said in the video
“indi? why Indi?” tom asked you even though you were still hiding from embarrassment.
“after indiana jones. my dad and i loved those movies and he gifted me indi as a birthday present.” you confessed.
“love, don’t be embarrassed. i think it’s cute that you manifested your life according to the comments on instagram,” tom paused the video then cuddled up to you. “i won’t watch it if you don’t want me to.”
“it’s fine, i just didn’t think anyone would find it. we can watch it together.” you uncovered yourself and sat down properly to watch the video with tom. before he pressed the play button and together you watch your younger self review the book.
“i’ve read all the hunger games books at least four times and this one did not disappoint. but i do hope whoever ends up being cast as young snow is someone hot. i’m sorry it’s the rules! and they will be my boyfriend, i’m calling dibs.”
tom smirked at you. “if only younger you could see you now.”
“she would definitely think ‘wow, how did we pull this beautiful man?’ then be confused as to why the hunger games and fnaf is trending in 2023.”
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liked by tomblyth, rachelzegler and 1,377,389 others
ynlovesbooks told ya. love you tomblyth ❤️
rachelzegler she is THAT girl
ynlovesbooks no u
everdeenx12 bestie he’s EVIL
ynlovesbooks he’s a walking red flag but my favorite color is red 😍
chamaletproblems pls tell me how you did this
ynlovesbooks i figured out who they were casting and kept him hostage until he agreed to be my bf
tomblyth true
3K notes · View notes
yeomongi · 25 days
Text
⭒ 𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘻 𝘤𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘴 ⭒
·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
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⭒ genre : smut 18+ MDNI
⭒ a/n: lol i’ve seen a few ppl do this but my answer always differs from theirs so i decided to make my own :3 also this is literally just me being straight up horny so i apologize im advance 😭
̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
⭒ HONGJOONG ⭒
i feel like hongjoong would be pretty big… not like MASSIVELY big but but, y’know? like probably 6.5-7 inches…? maybe not too much girth but definitely long and skinny, AND VEINY MMMNNNNGGHHHHH 😫😫 perfect to reach all the sweet spots inside you that you can never reach yourself.
̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
⭒ SEONGHWA ⭒
big. just straight up big. quite literally the perfect dick i’d assume… the type youd just want to admire all day. 8ish inches, smooth , a pretty pink tip, and it’d have a slight arch to it. and oooooh i just know it would feel good during missionary, the arch is his cock brushing your g-spot with each thrust …
̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
⭒ YUNHO ⭒
idek how to describe his dick without using the word BIG. it’s for sure 10 inches, you can’t change my mind… definitely more on the skinny side but it still doesn’t disappoint. kind of similar to seonghwa, smooth, a cute pink mushroom tip, and it has an arch. he’d manage to hit every spot deep inside you that’d make you lose control.
̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
⭒ YEOSANG ⭒
boy oh boy… yeosang gives me so many mixed feelings i genuinely don’t know. idk if he’d have less length more girth, or less girth more length? i’m not sure, but i know for a fact he’s big. either way, i NEED HIM KSJKDKSKSSKMWLDKSKS 😭 he’d definitely have veins down there, going off the rest of his body.. have you seen this man’s arms!!! he even has bulging veins on his neck?!
̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
⭒ SAN ⭒
san probably has the best one in the group.. long. (9ish inches?,) thick, veiny, curved…hell, it’s the ideal cock for me. long enough to reach all of your sweet spots, thick enough for fill you up perfectly, and the veins only add more stimulation as you’d be able to feel the texture against your g-spot. san DEFINITELY has veins leading all the way down there…cough cough, like this …
̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
⭒ MINGI ⭒
huge. like, HUGE. the type that when he sticks it in it feels like ur being ripped in half (pleasantly ofc), no matter how many times you’ve had sex with him. mingi would be like ~9 inches but tons of girth on him. he’d definitely have veins, and OMFG, his happy trail just makes me 🫠 like imagine he’s fucking your face and you can feel the soft little hairs brushing against your nose as he holds you down…AUUUGHHHHHHH OMFG
̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
⭒ WOOYOUNG ⭒
long. wooyoung has the longest cock in the group, nobody can convince me otherwise. kinda similar to yunho, but potentially bigger? he’s probably like 9.5 inches soft, but when he’s hard i deadass think he’s like 11 inches. THE VEINSSSS… he’s definitely veiny down there. really fucking veiny. i mean, look at the dudes arms…picture all those veins on a dick. and if would have an arch as well. like imagine having missionary with him 😫 the way he’d easily thrust into your cervix while his bulging veins brush against all your most sensitive places… i need him so bad i can’t even
̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
⭒ JONGHO ⭒
last but not least time for jongho :3 im heavy on the less length more girth for him… like this boy is THICK. i wouldn’t be surprised if his shaft was as wide as a water bottle tbh. he still has a decent length though! 6 inches paired with an intimidatingly large girth was the perfect pair. i’d be so in love with his cock .. like i’d just sit there for hours, pressing gentle kisses against his rosy pink tip, fingers tracing the veins around his base. literally chefs kiss 🤌💋
̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
425 notes · View notes
gigi-loveless · 5 months
Note
Okay kind of out there ask, dom reader teasing and topping Abby while Ellie is a little perv and watches from behind them. maybe it's not that out there idk, i just like bottom Abby its so fun
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summary - what was supposed to be a chill night in with your roommates takes a hard turn.
warnings - 18+. FILTH. this is FILTH. lowkey dubcon if you squint REALLY hard, intro is cheesy asf so i won’t blame you if you skip it
authors note - i did not proof read this bc i needed to rub one out after writing this jesus chriST anyways requests are open again finally . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
“okay, okay,” abby chuckles as she gets the perfect idea. “so we think we know everything about each other right?”
you and ellie turn to each other, both curled up on opposite ends of the couch, and nod in agreement, as ellie passes you her neatly rolled joint, both of your eyes following your cocky roommates detailed arms.
“so,” ellie coughs, “where’s this going then abby?”
“jesus give me a second, williams!” abby shouts, that rare, adorable smile that makes you absolutely melt appearing. “let’s play hot seat.”
ellie rolls her eyes unceremoniously, and peels herself off the couch. “okay, okay!” you notice her ears burning pink underneath her auburn hair, pondering to yourself what an innocent game such as this would make her such a mess.
“okay okay, who wants to go first?” abby asks, as ellie turns away slightly, avoiding eye contact, biting back a smile. her chiseled features glowing in the moonlight through the window. “well, i suggested the game, so how bout you, sugar?” abby gestures to you. your hands start to get clammy, ellie’s odd energy throwing you for a loop.
“cool, yeah.” you agree, making your way over to abby’s chair in the corner of the room.
“okay, els, you know how this works right?” abby questions, as ellie quickly interjects.
“d’you think i’m five? gimme a break dude!” she laughs, playfully punching abby’s shoulder.
“okay, okay….” abby chuckles again as she sets a one minute timer on her phone. “and time starts….now.”
“okay coming in hot, filthiest fantasy.” ellie’s eyes widen with desire as she asks you her question.
“no doubt, wanna have someone watch as i put a girl in her place. sounds so fuckin fun.” you explain nonchalantly as the two girls watch you take the final drag of the minuscule joint between your plush lips.
abby and ellie give each other a quick look before abby blurts out “do you wanna make that come true now?”
you cough, waving the smoke out of your face, laughing. “the fuck, anderson? like….” the girls eyes widen, eyeing you in your workout shorts and tank top. “oh, you’re serious.”
“what is it angels, you wanna see this?” you creep up from the chair, confidence building with every motion. pulling off your tank top and throwing it in ellie’s face, your nipples perk up at the sensation of the cool air.
“fuck….” abby whispers breathlessly, using every fiber of strength to not palm her clit at this very second.
“c’mere abs…lemme take care of you.” you murmur sultrily, running your hand down her braid as you straddle her thigh. “wanna watch, els?” you motion to the stunned girl, her nimble fingers already down her boxers. “ah, ah, ah…..” you whisper to her, pulling her fingers out and sucking on the wetness from her digits. “you’re gonna wanna save that. just getting started.” her breath hitches, wide eyes taking in the warmth of your mouth around her fingers.
as you’re finishing up, you feel abby brushing up against your ass, and going to grope it. “don’t even think about it anderson. you do what i say, yeah?” you ask, pinning her muscular arms up above her head. the blondes expression goes soft, submitting to your energy. “stay.”
“that’s a good girl.” you whisper, before locking your lips in hers. she tastes just how you always imagined; coffee and cherries. she can’t help but buck up her hips into yours, desperate for any friction. “was that….your….plan…all along?” you ask, one hand around her throat while your pouty lips leave tender kisses on her collarbone.
“m-mhm!” she nods, ellie’s faced flushed in awe, scanning the two of you.
“yeah? i could tell from the second you suggested that game….sluts. both of you.” you chuckle, before nearly tearing her muscle tank off her toned body and connecting your gooey mouth to her petite nipples. the moan that comes out of her at this stage is guttural; you smile to yourself knowing you can make these girls fold with a simple kiss. “tell me what you want angel….” you coo, circling her ribs with your nails. without warning, she gets too impatient and starts rubbing her clothed cunt against your thigh. “well….if you can’t behave, maybe i’ll just play with ellie for a bit.” abby whines as you peel yourself off her, as ellie’s eyes darken.
“let’s see how wet you are…”
ellie quickly rips her boxers off, allowing you to spread her pale thighs. her cunt is quite literally dripping. thank fuck you have a leather couch.
“may i?” you ponder from between her thighs. she bobbles her head yes uncontrollably, only stopping to throw her head back in pleasure when you lick a thick stripe up her puffy pussy. “god, y’taste so fuckin good….” you mumble, looking back to abby for a moment. “learned your lesson yet?” your eyes taunting her, before diving face first into ellie’s pussy, no hesitation. the poor girl can barely get a moan out before-
“i know you bought that strap….saw the box.” she sighs out, relieved.
“sorry els…” you giggle, a thin web of spit connecting your drenched lips to her pussy. “i’ll get you later. gotta take care of that slut first. be good and watch, and i’ll reward you again.” she gulps in response, giving you a light kiss.
you motion for the girls to wait, and scurry off to your room to get yourself ready. soon you’re back, bottle of lube in hand, rubbing the cool gel on your 7 inch length. abby’s eyes widen, likely not realizing how big your dick really was.
“this okay?” you ask, hovering over her neatly trimmed pussy. she nods, whimpering. “words, angel….”
“y-yes!” she gasps out, desperately rutting her hips against the tip of your dick. anything, anything for a taste of that delicious friction.
“good girl….” kissing her forehead, you sink into her with ease, her eyes rolling back sinfully as you bottom out in one stroke. “look so pretty like this…s’fuckin obedient….”
her veins melt back into her freckled shoulders as her senses succumb to all of you. her moans are fucking pornographic, you almost wish you got it on video….
in which ellie already has her phone shakily pointing at the two of you, her hand back between her now bare thighs, rubbing lazy circles over her clit. all that’s left of her is her flannel, her breasts poking out from in between the the buttons. because let’s be real, she never wears a damn bra so she can whip them out easily.
“jesus abs….s’fuckin tight.” you moan out, lightly scratching at her biceps. “takin me so pretty….never thought i’d get to have you like this.” the blonde sobs out your name in reply, desperately flailing to close her legs to relieve the pressure in her stomach as you pry her open. “you better stop, or i’ll take you from behind instead.”
“promise?”
and that’s how you ended up with abby andersons back arched for you, ass up, with your cock so deep in her cunt ellie can see the silouhette of you in her abdomen.
“yeah? you wanted this, huh?” you pant, the only sounds that echo through the room are simultaneous moans from the two girls and the squelching of their juices. abby’s noise more prominent as she shrieks in pleasure while you yank her braid so far back she has to stare at ellies glazed over cunt just out of reach while you ruthlessly thrust into her.
“answer or you won’t fuckin cum.” you bellow, tightening your grip on her locks.
“yes! y-yes! need to cum…hah…hah….hah….s’bad!”
“atta girl.” you groan, spreading her pussy to watch her cream a perfect white ring all over your strap, your own high peaking, your thighs shaking in pleasure.
the three of you collapse onto the couch, all going silent for a moment to catch your breath….before bursting out into uncontrollable giggles.
“gotta do that more often, huh?” abby smirks, with the satisfaction of knowing her stupid little plan worked.
“mhm….” you agree, brushing your hands up against the two girls. “gonna put els in her place next time though…”
you shoot a glance at the lanky girl, and her eyes go hazy.
part 2….?
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li-x1nyu · 12 days
Text
how tartaglia reacts when you're drunk and don't recognize him
tartaglia x gn!reader
sfw, drunk reader, angst, some fluff, reader has been hurt in prev relationships
A/N: i don't usually post stuff like this hehe, idk what changed my mind to!! hope you enjoy🤭
You had told him if you didn't come home before 2, he should probably come pick you up.
"Hey, you're here!" Hu Tao beams at Tartaglia.
"Thanks for watching them," he grins and gestures to you sitting at the counter.
"Yeah, dude, of course."
Tartaglia stares at you for a little while. He still can't get over how pretty you are, the curve of your nose, the ways your eyes kiss in the corners. Your hair looks surprisingly neat for someone who's drunk. Your expression is distant, finger trailing along the edge of the glass. You seem to be drinking vodka? He thought you didn't like vodka.
Sliding an arm around your shoulders, he leans to whisper in your ear, "Hey, pretty, you ready to go?"
You leap back into the present.
Looking puzzled, you push his arm off of you, saying, "Please don't call me that."
He blinks, a ghost of a smile still on his face. "Haha... what?"
Their faces mirror each other in confusion.
"I'm not going home with you, I have a boyfriend," you say, turning back to the half filled glass.
It clicks in Tartgalia's head, and a teasing grin forms. "A boyfriend, huh? Can I fight him for you?"
"You'd lose," you reply flatly, deadpan.
Dropping himself into the seat next to you and propping up his cheek, he says, "Tell me about this boyfriend of yours."
He watches his lover's expression brighten, like you forgot the entire exchange that just happened.
"Oh, he's the sweetest," you gush immediately. "And he makes me laugh so much, and he's so lively and good with people, but he's so hardworking and stubborn and, ugh, he's so beautiful. How is it possible to be so beautiful?"
His heart is about to explode all over Hu Tao's kitchen counter. His mind can't believe it, he's the reason your face is a beautiful, dreamy, rambling mess.
And you're not done. "I don't deserve him," you say, "I wish I could do something for him, but he always says I don't have to."
Because you don't have to, my dove, Tartaglia thinks. You're doing more than enough already.
Your expression suddenly snaps. "Shit. I'm a terrible person. I need to go home."
Tartaglia snaps out of his own trance in alarm. "Why?"
"He's at home now, and I'm out here getting wasted." You rub your face and search for your bag and phone.
"Woah, hey, you're drunk," he holds you by the shoulders, "I'm taking you home."
"Just because you're literally gorgeous doesn't mean you get to touch and take home random people!" You smack his hands off of you, again. Tartaglia's not sure if he should cry or laugh.
You cover your mouth in surprise at your own words. "Holy fuck, I'm a terrible person," you whisper. "Am I allowed to call someone who isn't my boyfriend gorgeous?"
He's convinced alcohol makes your brain overthink twice as fast as it usually does.
He also thinks it's a dumb question. Have I given them the impression they can't speak their mind?
He thinks it's okay. "Of course you are," he tells you instead, frowning. "He's not a good boyfriend if you have to be allowed to do something."
"No, he's a great boyfriend!" you say instantly. "I just-" You cut yourself off with a sigh and chew on your fingernail. There's a loud thumping in his heart as he waits for you to continue.
"I never know about these things," you say finally. "I feel like he never really tells me how he truly feels. I don't know if there's something I do that actually bothers him. And I'm..." You rub your nose bridge. "I'm scared to ask."
Tartaglia is quiet for a long moment. What he has cleverly deduced from this is that his lover is scared of him. All pride he'd felt earlier from making you swoon is now replaced by a sick feeling of self hatred.
"Maybe there's just nothing you do that really bothers him," he suggests softly, trying to lighten the mood.
Your expression turns glum. Fuck, was that the wrong thing to say? He mentally kicks himself.
"That can't be right," you sigh. "When I have nightmares, he always wakes up to comfort me. I'm pretty sure that pisses him off. And he always says it's okay too, but-" you blink rapidly, like blinking away tears. Tag winces.
"But then he... he takes longer in the shower, adds more caffeine to his coffee. And- and he'll eat less of the breakfast I make him."
"Oh," he says smartly, running out of things to say. He should've paid more attention to the little things, knowing that of course you would.
You shake your head and squeeze your slightly glassy eyes shut. After mumbling to yourself, "stop oversharing to strangers" twice, you put the cork back in the vodka bottle and set your glass in Hu's sink after pouring it down the drain.
"Anyway," you turn to him when you're done, "goodnight, I guess. Thanks for listening?"
"I'll walk you home," he offers again, softly.
You hesitate. Of course you hesitate.
"You're drunk," he reminds you. "I'm sure your boyfriend won't mind as long as you get home safe."
You give in. You let him put his coat around your shoulders, but you don't put your hands through the sleeves.
Halfway home, you just stop walking.
"Love?" Tag tilts his head at you. "Darling, what's wrong?"
You blink a few times. "Tartaglia?"
He grins. "Yes, hi. You recognize me now?"
You blink again. Then a smile starts to spread, and you forget the reason for your daze. You put your arms into the sleeves of his coat. "Yes," you say sheepishly. "Hey, you."
A hand is held out for him to hold.
Their talk can wait for next morning.
sorry if tartaglia is a little ooc! thank you for reading 🫶 might post a part two where he comforts you about it?
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seattlesellie · 1 year
Note
hi angel i saw u say you wanted more fluffy ellie requests and i thought about maybe something along the lines of the cute pics she has of you two in her phone idk it’s just something i thought of u don’t have to write it if u don’t want to i just love ur blog and everything u write 💗💗💗💗🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
not about love ♡
pre-dating slightly loser college!ellie 🦕 incoming !! basically u go through ellies phone and find… something. part 1 of… maybe?
warnings: slightly mean ellie for a second, sexual tension, mentions of weed and alcohol.
part 2
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Tic-Toc, the gentle sounds of the ancient clock in Ellie’s room filled the thick air. a gift from Joel. It was a warm, lazy afternoon. You almost fell asleep, almost. Her bed smelled like her, so did the ruffled, Nirvana t-shirt you were laying on. Everything in this room practically screamed Ellie. The scent, the sketches on the wall — of Dina, and Jesse, and you. Why did she have more sketches of you than anyone else? A dinosaur lego, a miniature solar system, obscure band posters, Oh! here’s the pin you gifted her once!, two pairs of mismatched socks, a random rock (“It’s from like, the moon” she said. It was from the local science museum.)
“El” you whined, receiving a gentle hum in response.
“I’m bored” you exclaimed with a heavy sigh. It's not as if she owed you any attention, she told you she had to study. For some reason, some odd reason nor you or her could put your finger on, you had to be there with her. “Well” you excused. “It’s not like I have anything better to do, right?” A lie. What about your project due Monday? Nevermind.
“Catch this” she exclaimed, tossing a serene light blue stress ball directly at your face.
“Ow!” you whined, yet again. If only you knew what those whines did to her.
“Sorry bro, gotta finish this fucking question. She said, flexing her sore hand. “Fuck this fucking Prof, seriously” She mumbled, clearly annoyed, clearly frustrated. Ellie had this thing, well, if you could even call something that she only had specifically with you a “Thing” — where she had to call you by those stupid names. “Dude” “Bro” “Jeez man!” just to see you squirm. Youd flinch ever so slightly, a fleeting reaction that betrayed a hint of offense flickering in your eyes. Every time you couldn’t help but pout, couldn’t help but look a little bit hurt, it did something to her. It wasn’t because she liked hurting you, God knows she didn’t. It would give her a glimmer of hope, of light. Shed journal about it, too;
“I called her Bro again. She looked really sad. Why does she get sad? I’m so fucking stupid. It’s probably because no one else calls her fucking bro, I’m literally delusional. Also had expired fucking Pizza. Worst day ever. Shit. Not that bad because she smiled at batted her eyelashes. God Ellie you need therapy.” YOURE A DUMBASS!!!!”
Half an hour had elapsed, brimming with Ellie muttering to herself under her breath. lighting a blunt, burning the blunt, passing it to you, begging you to give it back after 3 seconds.
You were pretty sure you had gone through every single app on your phone five times already. Stalking rando’s on Instagram, watching ASMR tiktoks, talking shit with Dina in the groupchat. How much more of this boredom could you take? My god, you were humming a stupid melody to yourself.
“Griiiind boy you know I grind when I pull-“
“Shh”
Did Ellie just shush you?!
“Excuse me?” You said.
“I’m trying to concentrate. Also what the fuck is a Fartulum?” Ellie retorted, withdrawing slightly and punctuating her frustration with stomps on the floor. God, she was too fucking cute.
“Can I play on your phone?” You questioned innocently. One more opening and closing the same App and you’d have lost your damn mind. You could practically see the Candy Crush candies popping inside of your brain every time you closed your eyes.
“No” she answered bluntly.
“Why? you scared I’ll find your nudes? Not gonna look- Swear on my li-“
You could hear her eye rolling, somehow.
“I dont have fucking nudes” she affirmed with a touch of exasperation.
“Someone else’s?” you said quietly. Your tone almost exposed you. Almost.
“Psh… no” Ellie said in return, just as quiet. Her tone almost exposed her, too.
Wish I had yours. Shut it, Ellie.
“Then let me go on your phone” You whined, got off the bed and almost slipped on one of her belts that laid on the floor. So messy, so, so Ellie.
She cast a sidelong glance at you, her eyes darting from the corner of her vision. Her grip on the pen was incredibly tight. It happened every time you got near, got too close to her. Whether it was clutching the strings of her hoodie, her knuckles turning white with tension, or her toes curling in a clenched stance. Shed never ever admit it to herself, cool, calm & collected, but fuck did you make her nervous.
You settled yourself on the chair beside her, causing her to divert every ounce of her attention back to her assignment, shifting it solely onto you. You. You. You.
She gazed directly into your eyes, and a peculiar warmth flooded your face. Its funny how even after being friends for all this time, making eye contact with her managed to stir something within you. She asked you about it once, mid fight. “You never even look at me when we talk!” she huffed. “Yes I do!” no you dont. “No you don’t!” and when your lips quivered, turning you in, she left it at that.
Ellie scratched the back of her neck, her arms flexing subtly with the motion. You gave her that look, the look that made her cheeks go bright pink, her hands clam up. She bit her lip. “Fine”. You won, flashing her a toothy smile she couldn’t help but grin at.
And there you were, with Ellie’s iPhone 5C (Yeah, she never got that buying a new iPhone every 2 years phenomenon) laying on Ellie’s bed, in Ellie’s room.
“Ew - Ellie what the fuck? why is your screen greasy?!” You squirmed, fingertips grazing over her slightly sticky screen. Is that fucking chicken nuggets residue?
“Shut up, dude. You asked me for my phone so deal with the consequences”
Dude.
You rolled your eyes, proceeded to wipe the screen of her phone with the corner of her cozy flannel bedsheet. Her phone was really warm. One more month and it would probably set on fire.
“Password?” You questioned, and shifted to lay on your stomach, your cheek caressing the pillow. It had a little auburn colored hair laying on top of it.
Ellie huffed and waited a second before she responded, contemplating again. It’s harmless, fuck it.
“2222”
“Okay, seriously - you could get hacked with that dumbass password”
“Pffft” Ellie huffed. “I’d fucking beat them up if they tried robbing me” she said, ever the brave.
“I’m not… talking about robbers, Ellie. Like, hackers?”
“Same thing”
“You cant beat up hackers they’re- Nevermind” you sighed.
2222.
If the room was classic Ellie, god, so was her phone. Default Apple background, because she truly couldn’t be bothered. iMessage, Instagram with four pictures on her feed; One of her arm slightly flexing her tat (who the fuck was the bitch who commented “damn” under there?), one of a stray cat wearing her grey beanie, a meme that says “Fuck sex. Let’s do something romantic like play Fireboy and Watergirl on CoolMathGames.Com” (God, she thought she was so funny for that one. 6 Likes, one from you, one from Jesse, the fake Instagram account you and Dina created for Joel, her ex Cat, and one from Dina and a spam bot). Next to the Instagram laid the NASA app (of course), Call Of Duty for iPhone (Made her sleep for only fifteen minutes one night), calculator, 9GAG (People still use that?!), and… her gallery.
You pursed your lips, contemplating the situation. Should you?after all, Ellie said; No nudes. So what could possibly be on there?
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Of course.
You couldn't contain a soft giggle that escaped your lips, earning an inquisitive whine from Ellie. "What's so funny?" she grumbled, unable to resist her curiosity.
“Said you were studying, so study” You said, while scrolling through her gallery.
As you readjusted your position on the bed, you unintentionally swiped to the left, revealing her albums. Just harmless browsing, right?
“Screenshots”
“Funny memes”
“Pics to send Jesse when he’s being stupid”
“Dhhdjsjsou”
“Stink ❤️”
A picture of you, laying on the grass, a bright, toothy smile spread across your face. It was from your Instagram, the one you deleted because you thought you looked dumb. The one Ellie commented a for once unsarcastic “Woah” on.
The album was locked.
You felt your throat go dry, heartbeat speeding up. Your leg started shaking, and God, you hoped she would come and snatch the phone off of your hand.
But she didn’t. She just shifted in her sit, cleared her throat and resumed her studies.
You shouldn’t have. But you did.
2222
Unlocked. Success!
You felt like screaming at the top of your lungs. Was it even hotter in here now? Extra humid today? you bit your lip, it almost hurt.
A picture of you and Dina. A selfie you sent to the groupchat two weeks ago. Ellie doodled a green heart on it. You were sweating. A picture of you on Christmas last year. That same day you had your stupid fight on. You were wearing a Santa hat, mug of hot Coco and tiny white marshmallows in your hand.
Your stomach felt as if it were infested by a swarm of Ellie looking butterfly’s.
A picture of you sound asleep, in Ellie’s bed. She was mid-moving a hair strand away from your face. It was blurry. You recognized that top.
You were wasted that day. Blabbering uncontrollably about how you had to crash on her bed, because you were scared your new roommate would think you’re stupid, and dumb, and an idiot, for getting drunk at a frat party.
You couldn’t understand why Ellie didn’t want to help you. You almost kicked her when she said she couldn’t, that you’d be better off in your bed. “I snore. And I kick in my sleep - Seriously” You almost cried. You called her a bad friend, a fake one, because — isn’t that what friends are for? Shouldn’t they have your back when you’re a babbling mess? Hold your hair for you, put you to sleep, take care of you?
Ellie couldn’t sleep that night.
When you laid there, right on her bed, her face went so red and hot you could fry something on it. She almost hit herself in the face when her chest grazed your back. When your leg caressed her’s, and ended up on top of her thigh, she almost screamed. When you shifted to face her, an angelic, sound asleep expression on your face, she swore she almost died. The string of your top came off, revealing more of your shoulder, and the strap of your bra, Ellie turned around so fast she almost woke you up.
She slept for 20 minutes.
When she woke up, she had to make herself remember it. Remember you, laying with her.
So she took a picture. An innocent one.
You almost jumped when the pen fell slipped from her hand and she turned around to face you.
“What are you doing?”
Whats in her notes app?
part two
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strwbrryeyes · 8 months
Text
𖦹°。⋆ kuroo as a best friend
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⟡ cw: fluff, friends to lovers, glass injury, short party mention, idk what else
⟡ a/n: this was short and rushed whoops. also my last one for like a week maybe idk college sucks dude. also i feel like he'd be a scaredy cat with movies idk.
⟡ best friend series: lev, yaku, kenma || masterlist
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best friend kuroo who you met in class when you started high school.
best friend kuroo who you got closer to when he helped you clean up the glass from the beaker you had dropped during chemistry class.
best friend kuroo who insisted on taking you to the nurse after you stepped on glass that went through your shoe.
best friend kuroo who skipped practice that day so he could walk you home safely.
best friend kuroo who offered to take you home every day until you recovered so long as you were fine with waiting for him to finish practice.
best friend kuroo who you continued going to practice with because you were actually intrigued by volleyball.
best friend kuroo who helped you talk to coach nekomata because you brought up wanting to be manager but were to scared to ask. it took a lot of persuading but coach agreed. you now see kuroo everyday.
best friend kuroowho introduced you to kenma during your second year. kenma wasn't good with new people by any means but he saw that you were important to kuroo so he dealt with it. he eventually listened to you more than he would listen to kenma.
best friend kuroo who had so many nicknames for you that anytime he said something weird you would just assume he was talking to you.
best friend kuroo who attended a different college than you but still made arrangements to come see you whenever he had the chance to.
best friend kuroo who always made sure you ate healthily and would go grocery shopping with you every so often so he could teach you about balanced diets. also because you hated vegetables.
best friend kuroo who nearly asked you to dye his hair after he got a B on his final exam. he said he needed a new identity. you didnt dye it.
best friend kuroo who took you to a party at his school one time and lost you then had to yell at the top of his lungs so everyone would shut up.
best friend kuroo who threw you over his shoulder when he finally found you.
best friend kuroo who took you back to his dorm after because he figured parties just weren't for you.
best friend kuroo who you stayed with during your spring break because you knew you were going to be bored at home.
best friend kuroo who you made stay up all night watching horror movies.
best friend kuroo who was terrified and wanted to go get ready for bed so he could forget all of that happened.
best friend kuroo who realized his feelings for you when you did your skincare routine on him because he was judging you for taking so long to do it on yourself.
best friend kuroo who decided you looked cute with your green face mask on so he leaned in to kiss you.
best friend kuroo who was worried he fucked up when you pushed him away before he could kiss you but you only did that because you didn't want the face masks to get smudged since you applied it so perfectly.
best friend kuroo who waited a whole 15 minutes to kiss you in silence but as soon as you both took them off you lunged at him to kiss him saying "it took you long enough"
best friend kuroo who is now boyfriend kuroo who transferred to the same college as you with the excuse being that he is now addicted to skin care but needs your help.
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hellomagicalsouls · 4 months
Text
i saw this as Klaus either being upside down or floating? or maybe he's just lying down and I'm looking too far into it. I mean he has to be upside down. look at his coat?
is he in prison? or? idk man honestly. my brain has been zapped
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I hope he isn't being tortured again. also cute shirt. very themey. stars and shit cute as hell.
my dude isn't having the best time. I think he's discovered he has anxiety for the first time and doesn't know how to deal with it
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also eyeliner or eyelashes? they look dark as hell. s1 Klaus eyeliner reveal yourself. Ben in the back is looking forward to just being a squid, good for you babe.
also me not being able to sleep and falling asleep just as the trailer was posted and then sleeping through until I wake up much earlier than needed
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(also netflix looking at all of us being rapid over not having the trailer)
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imaniwriting · 9 months
Note
Hi, I think u said that some requests like got deleted or smth. anyway I had a request where it’s Rafe x reader and like he has to leave for a meeting that’s last minute and he was like hanging out with his girlfriend, the reader, and his friend and like he pulls him into another room and gets SUPER overprotective. saying stuff like ‘she gets a scratch, she catches a fever, anything happens I’ll kill u’. I saw it in another tv show and ughhhh 😩😩😩 anyway maybe the reader gets hurt or smth, idk u can add a little bit of ur own twist 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 thx
(Love overprotective!rafe)
𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 (Request are open)
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Warnings : overprotective!Rafe, swearing, topper and kelce being a bad influence (let me know if i missed any)
Summary : when Rafe leaves to take care of business he makes it clear not to get you hurt.
Genre : mostly fluff
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You were currently at the beach with Rafe and his friend’s topper and kelce. You were trying to learn how to surf by the help of Rafe but let’s just say you are not a fast learner.
“Fuck they calling me for.” Rafe asked himself while picking up his phone when it started ringing you guys were currently having a break and sat at the beach bar.
Rafe had his arm wrapped around your waist, glaring at any boy who stared at you too long. He knew he shouldn’t have let you leave with the tiny bikini you had on. But he promised he could fight if it came to it.
“What do you want Barry im busy” he said in an harsh tone annoyed. His eyes scanned you while Barry was talking on the other line he rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath before replying “I’ll be there”
You were obvious to the and still were eating your burger he had bought for you. “Baby, I gotta go i’ll see you later i need to take care of something” he said with a bitter tone to his voice he didn’t want to leave you in the first place.
You looked up at him in confusion “what why?” You asked. “I don’t know Barry told me he needed me stay away from the water till i’m back I won’t be long” he said getting up from his chair.
You nodded and he kissed your lips before handing you his credit card “ if you want to buy anything else do that just don’t go into the water without me” he said making you grin “don’t worry baby is won’t” you reassured him before he abruptly turned to topper and Kelce.
“I swear to god if anything happens to her, a cut, a bruise i will kill both of you slow and painful” he whispered in a low voice so that you couldn’t hear him. He then turned to you smiled and walked over to his car.
Soon after you had finished eating and went back to your towel. Closely followed by topper and kelce. “Damn I really wanted to keep on surfing.” You said sitting down on the towel. Topper shrugged “you can.” He said making you shake your head “rafe told me I should stay away from the water till he’s back.” You explained.
“So what he’s your dad now or what? You can do whatever you want” said kelce making topper nod. “For real though he wont even know.” He tried to convince you which worked rather fast. “Maybe one wave wont hurt.” You said standing up with the surf boat in your hand.
Topper nodded and walked with you to the shore. “Here we go” you whispered to yourself. Before running into the water. You stepped on your surf board that Rafe had customized for you when he heard you wanted to learn how to surf.
But before you could prepare for the wave it hit you knocking you off the surfboard but your eye hit the edge of the surfboard making you yelp before hitting the large body of water.
Topper and kelce saw that and panicked quickly running in to get you before contemplating whether they should tell Rafe or not. You were already sat back on your towel with an ice pack. “Dude if we tell him he’ll kill us!” Said Kelce while staring at you you found the whole situation rather amusing. “It’s not that deep kelce why are you so on the edge?” You asked laughing not knowing what rafe had told them before he left.
“Look y/n when he comes just act normal and act like you are just hot thats why you have the ice pack.” You shrugged and nodded not caring really.
Not long after Rafe made his way over to you who was eating an ice cream. He smiled before noticing the dampness of your hair. He looked at the surf board and realized that it was also wet.
“Hey baby,” he started but stopped when he saw the ice pack on your face. His relaxed expression was quickly replaced by anger. “What happened?” He asked grabbing your hand and gently removing the ice pack only to reveal a bruised eye.
His eyes snapped to topper and kelce who were rubbing their necks trying to ignore the stare he was sending them. “Let’s have a talk shall we guy’s?” He asked with fake enthusiasm while grabbing their arms.
Let’s just say that day topper and kelce returned with two bruised eyes.
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satoruhour · 10 months
Note
Helllooo!!!! I hope you're doing well<33 I'm not sure if you're taking requests so this can be taken as a random rant as well. (I'm in my exam week-depressed-stressed era lol) but is it just me Or the animated version of choso and the mans voice actor just doubled his hotness!?? Hence why me is here to ask if you could do a choso street racer au, could be anything from him meeting at a race or him taking them drifting? Idk but I just need more racer choso au's😭😭😭
LUCKY DIME
a/n: oh no my love i hope your exams went well and that you’re resting comfortably now ❤️ OFCCCC i planned to write a racer!choso for so long i just didnt have any motivation / tagging @screampied
wc: 3k
warnings: racer!choso, reader is ‘dating’ a weirdo, fem!reader, threat of sexual assault (from weirdo guy), threatening harm, flashback, unsafe driving tendencies (dont follow them in this fic lol pls drive safely), semi-public sex (parking lot), car sex, slight nipple play, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, fingering, finger sucking, implied multiple rounds and p -> v sex later on, n*sfw under the cut
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choso hasn’t always been open about his origins — moving from the shimotsuma district to shibuya just two years ago in need of quick cash to send back to his struggling mother. it was a hard decision on both ends, with his mother advocating more for him to leave for a better life than the one she could offer. he acquiesced with a promise to earn enough to send back to her every month in return for the secret stash she provided for him and that promise meant everything. he was going to get money no matter what.
even if it meant meddling with the local yakuza, doing petty little tasks of collecting money, escorting the people important to the oyabun to their meeting places, being on lookouts while gambling and prostitution happens indoors. choso would never write back to his mother on what he’s been doing to get so much money, but if he’s able to send a hefty amount back to her on every 29th, he’s satisfied.
that is until he’s met with a couple arguing as they walk along the alleyway, creating such a ruckus that choso’s sure they could power the whole of shibuya — well, more of the man, anyways, saying something about racing and cars that he’s not even sure he catches on.
“well, if you just listened to her and opted for a flat-plane rather than use a cross-plane, maybe you wouldn’t have lost the race!” you’re throwing your hands up, struggling to walk behind in these new heels you bought while you navigate the dark alleyway. for a boy who’s expressed interest in you, he wasn’t doing well in trying to keep you one bit. you’d say he’s rather annoyed that you know so much about cars, trying to genuinely help him while he just sees it as attacks.
“yeah, well, if you kept your mouth shut, you wouldn’t have embarrassed me about losing to noritoshi.” you roll your eyes, unaware you’re passing a dangerous area with dangerous activities behind the door choso was guarding, nor do you notice the way the bodyguard perks up at the name of noritoshi, who sounds awfully familiar.
you scoff, “trust me, you embarrassed yourself the moment you tried to challenge the dude,” it was meant to be a harmless comment; noritoshi could never measure up to the famous four, but he practised his drifting hard enough and put in the hard work, stayed humble. he was everything that your “man” wasn’t, and it was only deserved that he didn’t win. ultimately, you didn’t expect much from a man in the illegal racing scene who only cared about who had the nicest engines and paint finishes.
“what’d you say?”
choso keeps a close eye on the both of you.
“it was nothing—” you sigh, reaching out to grab at his arm to get him to stop shouting so loud when you notice the person standing in front of a shady door — twin pigtails hairstyle with a dead look in his eyes and a tattoo across his nose, dressed up in a suit. it was scary enough walking through a dimly-lit alleyway, but your fear heightens when your eyes fall upon the surroundings of ashes of late night campfires, dried blood along the walls, and used condoms on the floor.
“no, no, tell me what you said, just so i know that i heard you right,” your “man” insisted, stepping up so close to you that your nerves were on high alert from the proximity and the possibility of that someone just a few feet away inflicting harm on the both of you.
“it was nothing! i just meant that you didn’t have a chance against noritoshi from the st—” it’s like you hit a sensitive nerve, because the next thing he’s doing is grabbing your wrist and dragging you along, not aware of how choso perks up even more, ready to leave his post. it borderline hurts with the way he grasps at your skin, paired with the discomfort of your heels and outfit, you can’t just wait to get home and rest up.
“ohh, so that’s what you said!” the man continues to tug you, not heeding your pleas for him to stop, “might as well just leave you here with the yakuza to see whether you stand a chance.”
that’s what the man was guarding . . wait.
a shout wretches out of you when you notice there’s no shadows at the door that’s lit simply with fluorescence at the same time the mysterious man has one hand each on your arms.
“who are you—” your “man” has the gall to speak first, shocked at the stronger grip of the other when he tears the fingers away from your wrist before stumbling back. the mysterious guy simply tugs you into his hold, levelling the other with just a stare from his eyes that’s got him babbling and stuttering in fear. you hate to admit that once the man beside you speaks, your body curls into his side — it’s like a smooth cup of coffee that you gravitate towards.
“do you want to repeat what you just said?” choso puts you behind him as he approaches the other, one step taken while the cowering one takes one step back. “because i can always open the door i’m guarding and let them take care of you, instead.”
“t-that wouldn’t be necessary—” he’s adamant on his threatening, taking out a flip phone and dialling numbers one by one, no doubt the number of his boss. he doesn’t even look at you, eyes trained on the pigtailed man as he continues to dial the number and pressing call. if choso’s being honest, he’s about to shit himself just as much, never having called his saiko-komon personally before so he only fakes the number, thanking the heavens that someone somewhere decided to call his boss’ phone just at the same time.
they all hear it, the familiar nokia ringtone from behind the door, but in choso’s ear, all it says is that it’s an invalid number that garners no answer. he talks over the operator’s voice anyway.
“yeah, i need you to take care of this guy. just outside here—” that’s enough for him to go running away, puddles splashing and his voice crying out for civilisation, although you’re not too happy yourself, afraid for your own fate. kept like a pet for the yakuza? made to work for them to pay off this small helping hand? commit—
you sit up from the hood, “you called a fake number?!” it’s hard to say when that fateful meeting turned into this over the past few months, asking choso to recount the night the two of you met out of curiosity when you realise that your yakuza-accountant boyfriend had dialled a fake number the whole time.
“i had just joined! i wasn’t going to phone my boss . .” he sheepishly says with head turned to you, and while you’re giving him brutal smacks on the shoulder (“what! if! he! hadn’t! run! away! were you going to let a phone operator beat him up?”), you’re still thankful he decided to step in at the right time even if his heroic act had been brought down a notch by this revelation.
it’s then that he asks about the whole racing thing you were involved in but you’re taken aback by the fact that he wasn’t going to make you do anything in return. even if the alley had boasted its dubiousness, you realise than the man standing in front of you was not much older than you, a childish sparkle in his eyes when you entertained the question. with a random number in your phone, it was up to you if you wanted to text him, but after a few races, you think that he was just too handsome to pass up.
choso picked up racing and drifting fast, joining your small group of friends of yuji, megumi and nobara who were all rising up the ranks. it was difficult, knowing the famous four, but it didn’t hurt trying to build a reputation in the underground scene. he practised around the docks, crashing into crates, sending the seagulls flying, and almost sending your scrap car over the edge.
“tokyo is pretty at this time of night,” choso mumbles as he sits up, too, liking the way you scooch closer to him on the hood of his 1967 Ford Mustang.
“tokyo is cold, i’m lucky i’m not freezing to death.” you tease him even when you’re wearing his warm jacket, squealing when his cold hands make it under the jacket and your shirt.
“how are you cold, that jacket’s wool!” he nestles his face into your neck, freezing nose touching the skin there and you giggle, trying your best to push him away. choso says that, but he’s happy to see you in his jacket while his arms tingle with both frost and lovesickness. “you’re just extra sensitive to the cold.”
before you can retaliate, though, he’s pulling away from your body heat to look you in the eye; it was a wonder he even got you, a girl who’s just so passionate about cars and who taught him everything he needed to know about it. six months down the road, he’s writing about something other than living paycheck to paycheck again, getting in some extra money from racing as well.
“wanna drive?”
you grin, hopping off his hood before jumping into the car beside him and he only laughs at your enthusiasm, hopping in after you and starting the ignition. you wish it was like this before every race: you beside him in the passenger seat as he gets ready to race against his opponent. the rev of the engine always excites you, knowing you contributed to the many modifications of his Mustang. but choso always says it’s dangerous for you — so you’re left to watch from the sidelines.
but now, as choso drifts down the mountain, you can’t help but stare at him as he changes gears every few seconds, hair blowing everywhere from the wind outside before he reaches the base and races off into the main road. you’re shouting in excitement, music blasting loudly from the cassette player while you dominate the streets at night.
“d’you think i can break 190, sweetheart?”
your jaw drops, “while drifting?” he nods, “you’re insane . . yeah, do it.”
choso’s laughter feels infinitely heavenly, stepping on the accelerator on a fairly empty road. he’s familiar with the traffic of the roads too, so at 4am, it’s basically deserted when he speeds down the gravel while he tries to break the speed limit. you feel on top of the world, a pretty road full of green lights on every turn; there’s a couple of sharp screeches from his tires as he navigates shibuya.
“hear that increased throttle response . .” you whistle when he presses his foot into the accelerator again, Mustang speeding off into the streets while you look over to him: hand holding the stick shift and one hand on the wheel. he’s as pretty as you remember him six months ago and his beauty truly hits you in the moment that you unconsciously rub your thighs together.
“all thanks to you, baby,” feels like the final blow, not knowing the effect he has on you until you’re waiting until he slows down to place your hand atop his on the steering wheel. there he lets you steer where you want to go, face melting into recognition at the place you’re taking him to.
“you’re nasty.” in the abandoned car park, he giggles when you’re shushing him as you make your way to the backseats, levelling him with a stare that begged him to hurry.
“yeah . . whatever, you like it.”
choso grins, switching off the ignition and climbing in after you, making you forget all about the cold season of japan in mere minutes. his lips collide with yours and his body naturally pushes yours to the leather seats, driving you crazy just with his mouth. his hands make quick work of your skimpy outfit, inching past your tight halter top and to your tits. you gasp softly into the kiss.
“may i?” even after all this time, choso still asks for permission, pulling down your top and bra when you nod.
his mouth is both warm and gentle when it meets with your nipple, tongue swirling around the bud and eyes looking up at you just to relish in the hooded lids and soft moans you give him. his free hand fondles your other, squeezing and playing, rolling the bud between his thumb and forefinger.
“just s’soft . . always,” he hums into your chest, kissing you down bit by bit and making you wait for it with each teasing journey he makes. there, he manoeuvres himself onto the floor, kneeling on the carpeted finishing as your knees hook onto each shoulder. the car is filled with your laboured breathing, watching him slowly undo the straps to your uncomfortable heels. it’s excruciatingly slow, pulling at the strings and removing each shoe before his lips leave fire along your shin, up to your thighs and to your pulsing core.
“choso . .” you whine, hips bucking off the leather.
all he does is laugh, hands spreading your legs before he’s licking his lips at the mess you made in your skirt, panties and back of the fabric soaked right through. your boyfriend pulls you forward with a certain fervour that makes you yelp and you match him with a nervous grin as he tugs away the underwear and marvels at the arousal that just sticks to your pussy, pretty and dripping right in front of him.
you have no warning before choso indulges himself in your cunt and you cry out in surprise, hand tangled up in the mess of his hair that falls from his pigtails. his warm tongue laps at your clit like a man starved, slurping up all of your arousal into his tongue. the cold weather is just the cherry on top, cold wind wafting through the walls and the windows, making you extra sensitive.
“c-cho—” you hum, one hand lost in his black locks while the other clutches tightly onto the seats for any sort of anchor while choso only pushes his face further in between your legs. he can feel your pussy clench around nothing, switching between sucking and flicking his tongue with a relentless pace that threatens your sanity. “t-too much . .”
all he does is laugh into your centre, eyes flitting to meet yours while he continues his ministrations, arms wrapping around your thighs. choso moans at how good and sweet you taste, a curious hand moving from your legs right to your hole where he plays with your folds. gently, he pushes past your walls and you whimper from the intrusion, clamping down around his finger.
“relax, darling, i got you,” he softly says, relaxing his pace just a bit as he starts to thrust his finger. while slow, his tongue doesn’t stop, however, still continuing to make the lewdest noises.
“pussy so damn sweet,” he groans, nuzzling his face right into your sloppy core before teasing a second finger; it’s easy to slip in but he still warns you wordlessly, inching them right in until they reach the knuckles, “and so tight, too—”
the car is filled with the smell of sex, the sounds of your pussy and your endless moans as choso starts to pump his fingers in and out, reaching so much deeper than any of your toys can and stretching you out just right. your hips buck uncontrollably as you feel that coil in your stomach, knowing that you were only going to get even more of this before choso properly fucks you — but it’s all he promises, that to make sure you’d cum on his fingers and tongue thrice before he even thinks of railing you like you deserve.
“c-choso, your fingers—!”
“yeah?” it’s breathless, bottom half of his face all soaked and wet, but he goes right back in.
“mmfuck— cho, cho, p-please . .” your words are jumbled up, babbling through your teeth while his fingers gathers all of your juices, “i’m g’nna—”
choso thinks you’re just perfect like this, moaning as much as you want in his Mustang and spread out just for him to eat. he cannot keep his eyes off you, curling his fingers just a bit to find your sweet spot as he flicks your bundle of nerves as his eyes stay on the way your lips part for little pants to escape. your eyes have fluttered close by now but he doesn’t mind as you continue to push his head towards your cunt.
“cum on my fingers, my love,” the other groans, words muffled a little, “cum on my tongue like a good girl.” 
“cho— f-fuuck . .” you writhe around on the leather seats as you reach your peak, voice descending into a silent scream while your jaw hangs open. at his peripheral he can see and feel your thighs tremble while you chant his name like a prayer, over and over until you think your voice is hoarse. his seats are wet, no doubt, and you wince seeing your cum decorate the leather, but choso quietens your worries as he leans up to give you a kiss. you can taste yourself.
“taste good?” you’re ruined despite it being your first orgasm, answering half-heartedly before slumping, a soft moan leaving you when he removes his fingers and strings of your arousal stick to each digit. his hand naturally gravitates towards your mouth, fumbling with your lips before he pushes in — distracted, he takes the opportunity to latch his mouth onto your cunt again and you mewl loudly.
“that’s just the start,” choso grins, laying a long stripe up your pussy and groaning softly at the way your tongue swirls over his fingers, “i’m sorry in advance . . hope you’re able to get out of bed tomorrow, baby.”
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