#out of tags but yeah i hate them and something needs to be done about the district

[ambiguouslady42]

Pairing: Hajime Umimeya x Chubby Fem! Reader

Genre: Fluff (for the time being), MDNI (I will block you)

Synopsis: It's cold and rainy. The Bofurin boys stop by for some good soup!

Tags: @pixelcafe-network, @jellyfishsart, @hayatoseyepatch, @awkwardchick87, @missvulpix212, @cottonlemonade

Note: Thank you Ele and Sam, my amazing beta readers.

Chapter 2: Pastina Soup

Dividers by: @cafekitsune

Chapter 1

It was rainy today. Not much foot traffic could be seen from the restaurant’s window. You figured this was natural because along with this rain, it’s freezing. You hate rainy days; you hate the water, but mostly because there’s a loneliness that comes with it. You moved away from home to find adventure, but you’re yet to feel that moment where you feel like you are a part of something or someone.  

The window finally got fixed before the opening day. You felt blessed to be in a community like the one in Makochi. Everyone was helpful and warm. The cost of the repairs also didn’t break the bank, so you felt lucky as far as chaos went. Your restaurant opened this week, and you’re delighted to have regulars. Your staples are lasagna, spaghetti and meatballs, and tiramisu to name a few. You wanted to try having a weekly menu to experiment more The dishes were praised not only for their taste but for the sense of comfort that they bring. Tachibana came by to try your dishes and in return, she invited you to have lunch with her during the day. The boys were right, her omelette rice is to die for.

Speaking of the boys, you haven’t seen them as of late. You worry and think if there was something that you could have done to push them away. You shake your head and quell your worries with the likely outcome that they were dealing with other pressing business.

As you’re observing from the warmth of your restaurant you notice those specific jackets that you became familiar with. You notice Sakura at the front, with a glare on his face. From that instant, you run outside, without a jacket. Sakura fails to notice you, but then you see two other individuals trailing behind him. 

“Hey! Sakura!”, you call out “Sakura! Can you hear me?!” 

Sakura turns around to look at you and he instantly is startled that you would even call out to him. His two companions turn around and are as polite as ever. You notice that one of the boys has a blondish tinge to their hair, but he has a warm smile that you can’t be able to forget. The other has an eyepatch, but his manners don’t escape him.

“Hello there! I’m Suo! You must be the so-and-so we heard so much about last week.” He proceeds to continue smiling at you.

“Oh yeah! Your friend was such a big help to me last week. He came to my aid when I needed him. I am still grateful to him.” you tell him with a sense of pride

“I’m glad to hear that.” Suo proceeds to look in the direction of the blonde. 

“Oh…right! I’m Nirei, it’s very nice to meet you!”  he says with a bubbly demeanour.

The rain is starting to pick up and you’re beginning to feel cold. You’re elated to see the familiar faces, but you are yet to see the one who caught your attention last week; Hajime Umemiya. Suddenly you start to see a crowd of them walking right behind them. You notice that some of them are bruised and bandaged up. Right there in the crowd, you see him. Your heart begins to race just a little. You see the warm smile and he’s laughing amongst what you assume are his friends. 

“Hey, listen! I know it’s cold out and it’s raining, would you want to come inside and I could fix you something to eat!” you say as loud as you can so everyone can hear you.

“There wasn’t any need to shout,” Sakura grumbles as he makes his way inside the restaurant. 

“Thank you kindly.” follows Suo. Nirei smiles and nods politely. When they follow, the entire crew decides to come by, including him.

“Hey! Thank you so much for inviting us. Listen, I thought it would be a great idea to bring these to you!” Umemiya hands you some zucchini and eggplant. It almost feels like a bouquet in the way that you’re holding them. “I grew them myself and thought you might want to make something with them,” he says excitedly to you. 

Your body begins to surge with warmth, but you realize that you’re still outside. You slightly shiver and Umemiya observes this. “Let’s get you inside! Don’t want you to catch a cold!”, He says in his chipper demeanor. He wraps his arm around your shoulder as he opens the door to lead you inside. It’s refreshing to experience this kind of personality. One that is outgoing, chipper, and makes you feel like there’s an exciting surprise around the corner. He lets go of you, but you feel like his touch lingers.

As you’re inside and feel the warmth in your body, you observe the large number of men who are drenched from being outside in the rain. Concerned that they can catch a cold, you quickly decide to prepare pastina soup. You have some broth in storage; it’s time to get to work! As far as your beautiful bouquet of vegetables, you quickly try to think of what you can make. A-ha! You figure out you can fry these zucchini, and make a quick eggplant parmigiana. Of course, let’s also make some spaghetti. Being able to think on your toes allows you to become efficient in a kitchen. You hear the chatter and laughter from the inside of the kitchen. You hear the kitchen door open. “You can’t be back here right now, it’ll be another while before everything is ready”, as you’re chopping up the vegetables and setting the cooking oil to an optimum temperature on the stove. 

“I'm here to help.” the familiar voice says softly. 

“Oh, Umemiya, it’s you.” giving him a small smile. “Oh I couldn’t let you help me, you’re my guest.” 

His smile remains consistent. “I insist”, as you see him grabbing a spare apron that you have in the kitchen. “How can I help?”

You know you are smitten by the way that he is proactive. A man wanting to be proactive in your kitchen is the sure way to anyone’s heart. “If you’d like to help, start by turning on the oven that’s over there. You will want it at about 400° F. Next, you can take over chopping, while I check on the oil. We will be frying up this lovely zucchini. I’ll deal with the eggplant on my own.” 

“Yes, ma’am!” Umemiya salutes you. Having the majority of the zucchini chopped, you begin to fry the vegetable, making sure that it won’t burn. Some of the oil jumps and it grazes your hand, but you walk it off as there is too much to do.

“You okay?!” Umemiya asks. 

“Of course, this is nothing.” He is amazed and shocked at how you tolerate pain. You’re running back and forth between chopping and patting down the eggplant. “You have nothing to worry about! This is normal and it just tells me to lower the heat.” you smile at him as a way to confirm that he has nothing to worry about. He takes this as a sign to stop pressing the matter. He would do the same if he were in your position. 

“So what were you and your comrades doing out there?” you ask him as you’re laying the eggplant in a baking dish.

“Ah, that. We were dealing with a certain group and we just needed to have a conversation with them. I feel it was very productive, and there’s no more to that now!” Umemiya tells you with that smile that could melt millions of hearts. 

“Is that everything that happened?” you ask him in a playful tone. You walk just past him to try to reach for some necessary spices. However, you realize that they’re way too high up for your reach. “Why did I place this so high up? What was I thinking”, you said to yourself. “Need any help with that?” he asks as he is standing behind you. 

“Yes, do you mind reaching for that? Sorry, just vertically challenged.”, you point to what you need. He stands next to you. You realize that he’s standing very close to you; you can smell his musk. It has a tinge of sweetness with herbs; it’s inviting to you. The cheeks on your face begin to turn red. He grabs the spices with ease and turns to see you. “Is this everything that you need?”, with such a reassuring smile. “Yeah…thanks”, you say quietly. 

Using the spices, you add them to your broth. At this point, you know you wouldn’t mind having a bowl of this soup. The smell begins to linger in the air and it starts to travel outside of the kitchen door.

“Mmm, what’s that smell?!”, someone can be heard from outside. 

“It’s almost ready!”, you say as loudly as you can to be heard. You take note of what’s already ready to be served. Course 1: soup and fried zucchini. As you are plating everything to your liking, Umemiya grabs a tray and places the bowls of soup to be served. “Oh wait! You don’t have to do that! I can do it!” you shout at him as he’s walking away. “Nonsense, I said I would help!” he retorts back as he’s already out the door. 

“Okay! Okay! I got soup ready to go. Take your time!” Umemiya can be heard saying joyously to his comrades. 

Nirei is the first to take a sip of the soup. “Oh my goodness! This is the best soup I’ve ever had!” Within seconds, he takes out his notebook and pen to write down what notes he can taste. Suo who is sitting next to him, slowly takes his sips and quietly nods his head to agree with Nirei. Sakura proceeds to follow their lead. His eyes open wide, but refuses to comment on the taste. His comrades take note of his face turning bright red.

“Is something bothering you?” asks Nirei.

“NO! What are you talking about?!” Sakura retorts back as he takes another sip of the soup.  

You step out of the kitchen to check in on how everyone is enjoying their soup. You take notice that Umemiya has not yet had his portion. He’s still standing with his hands behind his back as if he’s waiting for the next command. 

“Would you like to take a seat and have some food?” you ask him.

“No, I’d rather help. I’m kind of looking forward to having my meal with someone.” He’s looking at you with those soft, grey eyes and a gentle smile. This time, you’re feeling something in your stomach flutter. You realize that he’s talking about you. 

“If you insist, Ume” you turn around and head back to the kitchen. 

The main course will include small plates of spaghetti and your eggplant parmigiana. You feel like you outdid yourself preparing the eggplant as you take a small bite to see if it’s missing anything. Umemiya comes to meet you in the kitchen to help with the plating process. “Would you like to taste the eggplant you gifted me?” you ask him.

“Did you like it?!” he asks you excitedly.

“Just try it.” You’re giggling a bit as you prepare a clean spoon for tasting.

“I knew this would come in handy for you!” He grins excitedly.

“Thanks again. It was really sweet for you to bring me some vegetables,” you respond to him. 

“I finally found someone who I think will appreciate the vegetables that I care so much for in my garden,” he responds to you. 

“I’d love to be able to see it sometime..,” you tell him with a shy smile.

“Just let me know when and we’ll make it happen.” he grins to you.

You watch him taste your parmigiana and the grin and the way his eyes glow confirm that you achieved your desired outcome. As you finish plating everything, Umemiya is quick to deliver this to your guests. 

You step out to see the constant glow on your guest's faces. You notice that Nirei is once again writing in his notebook. You step right behind him to take a glance at what he’s writing down. He notices the shadow cast behind him. “Whatcha writing down?” you ask. 

“Oh! Um, um, it’s nothing! Really!” Nirei is panicking. 

“No no, I just want to know!” you smile at him reassuringly. As Nireihands you the notebook at where he’s been writing. You notice that he’s been trying to find the notes in your soup and is trying to write down the possible ingredients in your pasta sauce. 

“If you wanted to know what I put in my dishes, you just need to ask!” you tell him. 

“Really?! Are your recipes not a secret?” he asks earnestly.

“Absolutely not! I just prepare everything as I’ve learned it as I travelled around. Of course, I modify things to my liking.” Everyone suddenly starts looking in your direction as you're excitedly talking about the places you’ve been. As you notice the gazes, you stop. You look around and see that Umemiya is looking towards you with that smile. You turn bright red and walk away back into the kitchen. He follows right behind you.  

To distract yourself, you start to prepare your serving of food. Your stomach is grumbling; you can’t remember the last time you ate. Your hands are shaking as you try to grab the ladle for the soup. “Here, let me help with that.” Umemiya grabs the ladle from you. “I look forward to hearing all about your adventures and why you ended up here.”

“I’d love to tell you about everything,” you say quietly.

“Wonderful! I look forward to it!” that reassuring grin appears. 

You realize that there’s a lot of food that you need to be able to eat. You don’t know if you’ll be able to finish it all.

“Don’t worry, whatever you don’t finish, I’ll make sure to help you. Your wonderful food shouldn’t go to waste!” he tells you. You observe Umemiya stepping out of the kitchen with your meals. You check to see that everything is off. He places your servings near the table closest to the window, away from everyone else. You sit right across from him. You're both smiling at each other as you place a napkin on your lap. 

“So tell me where you came from before Makochi?”

He looks at you intently, curious why someone as adorable as you would move here. He takes a sip of the soup; just as he thought: heart-warming and comforting, just like you.

[korattata]

i'm really really glad that i had done rat intros previously so the girls are like.... basically getting along completely already

[supersecretnerd]

Ok so these designs are cute as hell, the Internet is just mean

I have too many thoughts about a game I still need to watch

[neverendingford]

.

[julietsbody]

innocence — modern ! coriolanus snow + reader : your friends ask you to get some drugs from the local dealer, but you never expect he would take a liking to you.

tags : 18+!!! MDNI!!! drug dealing ! coryo, drugs, praise kink, overprotective behavior, possessive behavior, porn with feelings, p in v sex, fingering, special treatment

coriolanus snow hated parties, they were loud, and the people were insufferable— but he needed the money from the things he sold. cocaine, weed, even some ecstasy. whatever the people wanted, whatever helped support his grandmother and cousin. they weren’t living in the most luxury like all the other people who held parties in these neighborhoods, so that’s why coriolanus attended them, they always paid the most.

he typically got douchebags or stuck - up pretty girls, they both always paid him in crumpled up ones that he took forever to straighten out and count— what a bunch of assholes.

what he never expected, though, was you, coming up to the man dressed in a korn shirt and baggy jeans with a bow in your hair as well as wearing a pretty dress. your doe eyes peered up at him when you tapped his shoulder, he turned, eyes slotting down to meet yours, “hey.”

“hi,” you hesitate, cute, “i.. do you sell drugs?”

he clears his throat, “sorry?”

“do you—“

“probably shouldn’t repeat yourself, doll,” he tips his head up, “i do, are you buying?“

“just for my friends, yeah,” you smile shyly at him, and he returns it.

you’re so innocent, had you ever done any drugs before? definitely not the ones he sells, maybe the weed, but cocaine or ecstasy? no, no way. if it were for you, he wouldn’t be selling you it anyway. coriolanus had a certain soft spot, if you will, for the innocent girls that wander up to him at parties with their batting eyelashes and naturally pouted lips.

“alright, let’s go upstairs,” he tips his head to the stairs, chuckling when you move to give a thumbs up to your friends before following after him, “why do they make you ask for them?”

he suddenly moves back to grab your wrist when the halls find themselves crowded, not wanting to lose you in the sea of people, nor you lose him. you were a client, a customer, and he always treats his customer this way.

loud incorrect buzzer.

he doesn’t!

coriolanus never dares to allow himself to sweeten up around his customers, or anyone, but something about your shy, deer like attitude— it had a wolf wanting to protect.

“they say they’re too nervous to do it themselves,” you finally answer when he leads you into the nearest empty room, closing the door behind you.

he finally lets go of your wrist, “that so? what are they askin’ for?”

“cocaine,” you swallow.

“then they’re not nervous,” he chuckles, having to deal with his fair share of cocaine users, none of them are nervous to approach him, “why do you let them push you around?”

he moves to sit on the bed, chopping up the cocaine from his pocket on the nightstand next to him. he typically doesn’t like when his customers stand over him, because he never knows what they will do, and he likes to be in control at all times— but you’re harmless, aren’t you? just a little deer.

you exhale a nervous laugh, “they’re not pushing me around, they’re just asking me for favors.”

he hums, eyes peering up at you as his hands absentmindedly work on the pearl powder, it was muscle memory for him at this point. “you promise you’re not doing this shit, too?”

“i promise,” your lips tip up to a curt smile, “it’s really.. scary, honestly.”

he exhales, eyes trailing over the curves of your face before they meet the nightstand again, swiping the powdered sugar like substance into a little baggie. you watch him, almost admiring, “yeah. it is really scary, dangerous, too— don’t want you doin’ this shit too.”

a warm feeling courses through your veins, you hardly realize he’s holding the baggies out for you until he clears his throat, you blink a few times, quickly trying to grasp the money you had— it wasn’t given to you by your friends to spend for them, it was just your own money. how cruel.

“it’s on the house,” he quickly says, almost unaware of what he was saying himself until it finally passes his lips.

you bat your lashes at him, “what—“

“free, doll, just take it,” he allows himself a faint smile.

you hesitantly reach to take the baggies, “are you sure…?”

he nods, “‘m positive.”

“thank you, snow,” his eyebrows furrow at how sweet his name sounds on your tongue, like nectar delivered by the kindest dove from the gods.

you turn to leave, but he quickly stands, “hey—“ he pauses, eyes sweeping over your figure as he tries to figure out what to say, you probably go to millions of parties with your asshole friends, possibly with other dealers.. “some other dealers are gonna try to rip you off, make you pay a lot for a little bit— so just, come to me and i’ll treat you good as long as you’re staying out of trouble, princess.”

“okay, i will,” you nod quickly.

“good girl.”

⊹˚. ౨ৎ

you don’t see coriolanus for a while after that night, it has been no more than a few days, less than a week but the idea of you is rotting in his brain and eating him whole from the inside out. at every party he went to, every girl with a bow in their hair (he despises that it’s the latest trend) or wearing a baby pink dress reminds him of you. with their fluttering lashes and soft smiles, god, he hates that he sees you in every one of them. he hates that you have completely plagued his entire conscience, but yet he never complains about it, not once.

sometimes, sejanus, one of the other known dealers, though he more so considers himself a look - out when coriolanus is selling, or a promoter for coriolanus’ business— he notices how coriolanus’ eyes linger more than usual on the women at parties, it almost makes him laugh, or tease coriolanus.

isn’t he supposed to be intimidating? not a man easily falling for women.

a lover boy, that’s what he seemed like now.

sejanus swishes around his drink in his cup, eyes falling to coriolanus, “what’s up with you?”

coriolanus blinks once, twice, “what are you talking about?”

“you haven’t blinked in like an hour,” sejanus liked to overexaggerate, “are you okay?”

“of course i am,” he scoffs, “‘m gonna find arachne.”

arachne, sejanus’ best friend, albeit she talks so much shit about him behind his back. sejanus is sweet, passive, and arachne is the complete opposite. some would call arachne a maneater, coriolanus thinks of her as a conceited bitch who needs to be put on a leash. she had a tendency to run off whenever she went to parties with coriolanus and sejanus, so coriolanus always had to run after her to try and find her.

sejanus nods, offering a small i’ll look too.

coriolanus allows sejanus to walk the opposite way as he turns the corner, eyes scanning each room for a brunette with a bold red lip. he doesn’t find her anywhere, god, she better not be having sex in one of the rooms upstairs like how she was last time. coriolanus likes to think opening that door to that sight was something out of a horror movie.

he does find a different brunette, though, with more golden tones and curlier hair.

festus creed, of fucking course creed is here. he was another one of the other well known dealers in the area. he wasn’t that well with his sells, mostly because he acts like he’s above everyone else in the worst way possible, and even allows people to pay with sex.

coriolanus heard his sex is never good.

funny, isn’t it? how someone with a small dick and hardly any skills on pleasing women would offer sex as payment.

coriolanus, at least, thinks it’s hilarious.

what he doesn’t think is hilarious, though, is that festus is talking to someone coriolanus is far too familiar with. glittery eye makeup, a lacy bow in their hair, baby pink dress.. it’s you.

coriolanus’ mouth runs dry when you spot him in the corner of your eye, your lips twisting into a sugar - coated grin as soon as your eyes widen, “snow!”

you immediately move to give him a hug, festus’ searing gaze following your every movement in the creepiest way possible— god, coriolanus hates him. his fingers lace around your waist, tugging you close, “hey, princess.”

“princess?” festus snickers.

coriolanus tries to ignore him, but he finds it near impossible with the words that leave your lips next, “this is festus, my friend, do you know him?”

coriolanus scoffs, does he know him, what a joke, “i know of him.”

festus finds himself chuckling bitterly, “is that right, pretty boy?”

coriolanus takes a step, and you feel a certain mold of metal against your waist when he does, a gun, his cold lips part, “sure is.”

your eyes roam over his features, the curves of his skin when his brows collide, the way his eyes darken with malice, the grit of his sharp teeth, the flush of his jaw against his flesh as he moves it. his muscles flex underneath his baggy band t - shirt, veins pulsing. he was angry.

festus’ lips part, but you speak before him, “snow?”

his head nods in your direction, but he doesn’t say anything.

“answer your girl, snow,” festus taunts.

“go upstairs,” he mumbles, it’s to you.

so you do.

⊹˚. ౨ৎ

coriolanus sighs when he closes the door behind him, coming in mere minutes later. you had been sitting on the bed in the vacant room, fingers playing together, eyes glossed over in fear and pricking with tears. coriolanus wasn’t the only one who carried, but you didn’t hear any shots, fortunately.

“kid’s such a fuckin’ asshole,” he mumbles, cracking his bruising knuckles, “he’s not sellin’ you shit, is he?”

“sometimes—“

“don’t buy from him anymore,” coriolanus pauses, swallowing, “he laces his shit sometimes.”

it was true, festus was messy with his work, he didn’t lace the products himself but the people that distributed them to him would, he was just too lazy to even notice.

“i’m sorry,” it comes out hushed, a mere whisper, but coriolanus’ ears pick up on it easily.

his tone is softer now, “why?”

“i didn’t know—“

“then don’t apologize,” his head tips to the side, sniffling the bubbling blood in his nose, he inhales, pupils wide as they roam your features. a glass tear raced down your pliant cheek, and he immediately moved to carefully wipe it away, “don’t cry, doll.”

you don’t say anything, merely melt into his touch. coriolanus isn’t good with affection, he’s hardly had any girlfriend before and if he has, they don’t last long due to his struggles with showing kindness. so it’s obvious the next word that leaves his mouth isn’t one born from honeysuckle, “cocaine?”

your lips move nervously, bottom lip tugging under your teeth as your mascara covered lashes move to his frost - bitten eyes, “do you have.. ecstasy?”

his lips drop to a frown, “why?”

your lips tremble when they part, cheeks heating under his touch, “my friends want to try it.”

“no,” he swallows, jaw ticking, “i’m not selling you that shit.”

“what? why not?”

“that shit is too dangerous,” he chuckles, albeit it’s bitterness, “i don’t want you around that, it’s trouble.”

“i’ve been good,” you reassure, hips swaying when you scoot closer to the edge of the bed, closer to him.

“have you, now?” his thumb is gently rubbing against your skin.

“i have, i promise,” you offer, feeling his fingers move so his thumb is now moving against your bottom lip, dipping into your mouth ever so slightly.

you smile around it and his pupils dilate even more, are his eyes blue anymore or merely just sole pupil? “naughty girl.”

then he stops, as if he had realized something, and pulled away. your lips curve downward to a frown, desperate to have his touch again, “snow?”

“don’t,” his molars collide, “i’ll hurt you.”

“that’s okay—“

“—i’m bad news—“

“—i don’t think that—“

“—i’m dangerous, doll.”

you hesitate, inhaling sharply, “but you won’t hurt me.”

he doesn’t say anything for a minute, “so, you want cocaine?”

you give him a careful nod, and he smiles. again, he’s being sweet.

“you know how to chop up cocaine?”

you allow yourself a giggle, “you know i don’t.”

“i’ll show you.”

and he does, his hand is gentle as it guides yours, fingers curling against the curve of your own as he crushes up the cocaine, guiding you to chop it up with the card he gave you. you’re warm underneath his cold touch, his movements experienced whilst yours are new. “how many times have you done this?”

he shrugs, breath fresh against the shell of your ear, “a couple hundred, for sure.”

“i could help you, you know, with the business,” you offer, despite not even really wanting to.

“no,” his fingers are tighter against your skin, but not enough to hurt, “i don’t want you in this business, you being around me is dangerous enough.”

“you’re not dangerous, snow,” you hush out.

he moves closer, and you feel his gun brush against your ass, lips curving into a smile, “you think so?”

you shiver from the touch, it’s loaded, the safety is probably off, “i know so.”

your thighs push together, he feels it, making him chuckle, “you’re so needy, princess.”

“snow,” you breathe out, “this isn’t fair.”

“how so?” he presses a soft kiss behind your ear, “just because you aren’t getting what you want?”

“do you want it?” you pause your movements.

“of course i do, i want it as much as you,” he moves your fingers so you drop the card, guiding them to his bulge, “‘m just not spoiled.”

you frown at his works, fingers curving around his bulge, god, how big was he? “‘m not spoiled either.”

“whatever you say, princess,” he grits out.

you palm him so well, it nearly has him rutting against your hand, breathing getting heavier against your ear. his fingers move to trail down down your back, dipping underneath the hem of your skirt and tracing along the thin material of your lace panties. his jaw shifts, “such a dirty girl, wearing these panties.”

you whimper when his fingers graze along the soaked part of your panties, thick fingers brushing against your clothed clit, “please— snow.”

“please what, princess?” you mumble something in response, but it’s nearly incoherent, more of a whimper, “use your words.”

he moves to pull your panties to the side, now touching your bare clit, making your thighs tremble, “i need— fuck, i need you— inside.”

he nods, pressing kisses along the side of your neck, finding himself already pussy - drunk. it almost felt sacrificial, a sinful man dipping his fingers inside of a goddess, the way you moaned at the feeling of his finger stretching you out— it was as if he could be confessing of his sins at any minute.

to see your hips bucking against his finger, his name hushed on the tip of your delicate tongue. didn’t you know that many people wanted him dead? how many people hated him? how the police could arrest him at any second? yet you didn’t care, a lamb to the slaughter, a deer in between the jaws of a wolf.

yet you were rutting against his hand, begging for more, desiring him to push another finger in— and he did exactly that, prepping your tight cunt for his cock, “you’re so fuckin’ tight, doll, i don’t know if it’ll fit.”

“it will— it will, i know it will—,” you’re just babbling nonsense at this point, and coriolanus wanted to be gentle, he really did, but your sweet moans, your sugary whimpers, the way he so easily pushed his fingers inside of you, the way that when you curl, your moans up a few octaves. you were so sensitive, god, were you a virgin?

the thought had coriolanus pulling his fingers out, twirling you around so he can push his fingers into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself as his other hand undoes the belt holding his baggy jeans up. his eyes are crystalizing the memory of your tongue swirling against his fingers, sucking up every taste of your own cunt— have you thought of this as many times as he has?

he moves his hand to take his gun before it falls, placing it on the counter behind you, his fingers move from your mouth to help him push his jeans down, your lips part, “why do you have a gun?”

he smiles sweetly at your words, nearly chuckling, “why do you think?”

“‘m not sure, that’s why i asked,” you had a certain tinge in your voice that makes him quirk a brow.

“it’s to protect myself, princess,” he pushes his boxers down, finally freeing his cock, “now be a good girl, turn around, and bend over.”

of course you do exactly what he asks, bending over the counter so he can push your skirt up. the feeling of your innocence being stripped away right in front of you was far too good, like a cross ripped from the chain around your neck, or your holy water being unpurified. you were a cupcake with frosting on top, and coriolanus was sinking his teeth into you, rotting his sweet tooth.

his dick slaps against your heat when your legs part with desire, making you whine against nothing, “snow— please..”

“just say it, princess,” he moves to rub his red tip against your clit, making you shudder, knees buckling already.

“fuck me— f..fuck me,” you repeatedly beg.

he moves closer to press a sweet kiss on the back of your neck, bones colliding when his cock finally pushes into your cunt. you were so tight around him, squeezing him around your velvet walls. your jaw falls slack when you gasp at the feeling of him stretching you out, his lips pull tight together in a grunt, “so tight for me, princess— jesus christ..”

his breathing is labored when he pulls his hips back and thrusts in, he goes slow at first, treating you like you were a fragile statue made from porcelain, but then you’re begging him to go faster, to go harder. your fingers graze along the gun placed on the counter, right next to the cocaine. his tongue swipes along the roof of his mouth before he speaks, “are you sure, doll? i don’t— fuck— want to hurt you.”

“h-hurt me, it’s okay,” you mumble out, and he truly does hesitate for a second, then his thrusts are suddenly faster, bumping you into the counter with the sheer snap of his hips. your cries sound like noises formed from a blessed harp, passed down by the gods for him to listen to, each moan getting louder and louder until his ears are ringing, until the music sounds hushed compared to your screams.

it’s so obscene, all of the things that he finds himself spitting out as he harshly bucks into you. so cute, jus’ wanna ruin you, takin’ my cock so well, that feel good princess? he can’t help the way his hands snake up to your hair, tugging at the pretty bow wrapped around it, earning a frosted moan from your glossed lips.

it’s not long until you’re cuming on his cock, with him pulling out to twirl you around and push you to your knees, allowing you to jerk him off until thick white stripes are decorating your face. the white glitter, the sweet scent of your lip - gloss, now accompanied by his cum.

how cute.

“so fuckin’ pretty,” he mumbles as he tucks his dick back in his boxers, pulling his jeans back up when your painted nails move to wipe away the cum on your face, lapping it up with your pretty tongue.

you giggle sweetly, “do you do this with all your customers?”

he shakes his head, “no, doll, you’re special, you know that.”

and it’s true, you really were special.

you were a dangerous man’s doll.

[fairuzfan]

Scrolling through a blog because I remember them being pointed out as Zionists a while back and then I found this post about standing together where the tags are FILLED with non-Palestinians calling BDS performative and shit like yeah I'm aware they fought the israelis at the border of Gaza to let aid in but by the time BDS had come out with the condemnation of standing together, they WERENT doing that. They were just talking. They didn't do SHIT when bds put out that condemnation. Now that they're finally doing something (too little too late btw) you wanna take this as a chance to yell at BDS?? Do you guys think it's appropriate to tell Palestinian orgs what they're doing correctly or incorrectly based on your own viewpoints??

"They work to deradicalize israelis so they use a specific vocabularly" I want you to know that Palestinians have been using that vocabulary for 75 years. No they're not doing something new. They're doing the same thing our elders have been doing for generations. And do you know what we learned from that? That israelis hate our guts more than you can fathom.

If standing together had FROM THE START done shit to help Palestinians in tangible ways, I wouldn't be saying anything. But they didn't. They JUST started a couple months ago with their efforts at the Gaza crossing so now you want to moralize and say "at least they're doing something"??? By all means they should continue doing this, I'm not telling them to stop but the way this post is just so rude... bds initiatives are widely supported by most Palestinians around the world (and yet we criticize it still, obviously) so you all have absolutely no reason to take this as a chance to diss it if youre not palestinian.

You guys actually need to stomp this shit out from your posts why the fuck are you all letting this happen. Bds has been around for longer than standing together and DOES help Palestine by making it clear that companies building on west bank territories (which the companies are owned by ISRAEL not Palestinians) will not be bought from or supported, meaning that they withdraw their contracts to put the israeli government in a monetary bind.

Also you all talk about "israeli deradicalization" as if we are at a point in time where deradicalization is the goal. We know people in '48 and the West Bank and Gaza. Like sorry but that is not what we are thinking about right now! Slow change might have been useful a while ago, but we literally cannot afford slow change right now.

That is to say I really don't care that much about standing together despite what it may seem. They do not occupy my mind nearly as much as i talk about them. I'm just astounded that you guys are giving them money when you can be donating to Palestinians in Gaza directly.

Also I was right, silverfox66 is a zionist so. Don't reblog them.

[tojisbbygworl]

He’s Not Actually That Cool - Hobie Brown x Black!Reader

Based off of this post

Part 2 bonus bonus ii

Masterlist

Imagine Hobie, the undeniably coolest person in the Spider Society, is a virgin nerd with a big dick

Tags: Hobie is a pathetic virgin loser, 18+, a lil smut, Oral (m receiving)

"How are you even cooler under your mask?"

"I was this cool the whole time."

A scoff behind the both of them. It's you shaking your head in your mask.

Hobie smirks at you. "Something funny there, love?" You don't say anything, just pretending you don't hear him and looking away innocently.

Hobie was the reason you were a part of the Spider Society. He and Miguel had captured the anomaly in your own universe with your help, of course. You knew Hobie had immediately took a liking to you what with the way he stared at you through his mask when he first laid eyes on you, frozen in place, color palette pink.

You liked him the moment he ripped his mask off when it was all said and done. He looked real good with his wicks, his sharp facial structure, wide-set nose and even larger lips. You actually believed him when he said he was briefly a runway model, emphasis on the briefly.

He invited you to join them and pulled you into the portal before Miguel could even say anything. You two have been inseparable ever since.

As you met more people, they all told you of their opinion of the man who seemed to be your best friend. Everyone says the same thing, that he's effortlessly cool and it makes him a little obnoxious. It always made you tilt your head.

You've seen the anime action figures in his room ranging anywhere from Naruto to Tokyo Ghoul.

"Oi, don't touch my things. You're the only person I trust to let in here, don't ruin it."

He's talked your ear off about the intricate lore of FNAF (he HATES MatPat btw)

You've groaned at how many times you've heard the name 'Afton' leave his mouth.

"So the place shut down again after the victim lost their entire frontal lobe"

"And that's the bite of '83, right?"

"No, that's the bite of '87. Thought I told you about '83?"

He probably did but he talked about it so damn much that you forgot. "It's cool, I'll tell you. So the bite of '83..."

This man is a fucking nerd but the BIGGEST misconception everyone has is that he's probably great at sex.

He has a reputation of "running through" everyone who wants him at the society...and yet no one has actually done anything with him. Everyone whispers about it, but no one has ever come out and admitted to having sex with him.

He's without a doubt your closest friend, so you asked him about it while you were chilling at his, watching him strum his guitar.

"So I heard you been running through the Spider Society like a tomb raider."

He cackled, "Yeah, that's what they all believe, innit?"

"It's not true?"

He shook his head. "I haven't got bottle, luv. Don't know what the bloody hell I'm doing."

"Oh really?"

He stopped strumming to look up at you, his smirk falling upon seeing your sultry and mischievous face. He grew a bit nervous, but was more excited if anything.

"What's that look about?"

"Would you like someone to teach you?"

He dropped his pick from how badly he was shaking. Hobie gulped and slowly nodded his head. You walked over to him and slowly lifted his guitar off his body, then pushing him back into the couch and sitting on top of him.

That's how this current make-out session started with you doing most of the work, taking off yours and his clothes feverously.

Hobie just sat back and let you do whatever you wanted. He especially loved watching you strip down to your underwear, blood shooting to his dick as soon as he watched your breasts bounce out of your shirt. He watched you pull your panties off of you leaving you completely naked and him only in his boxers.

He shifted in the couch to relieve some tension. You giggled at his starstruck face.

"You good?" You asked him. He nodded. "Do you need me to pull it out for you?" He nodded again.

You laughed, but was quickly shut up by his long, curved shaft slapping back onto his stomach. His underwear did him no justice, nothing could have prepared you for this.

He shyly looked away and bit his lip, not wanting to admit that he liked the way you gazed at it. It fueled his ego, but he didn't know how to tell you without stuttering.

He was actually shaking pretty bad, and it worried you. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah...I just..." he gulped and looked back down, his dick jumping upon looking into your eyes. Just like his, yours were a deep brown. Your eyes were furrowed in concern, and your full lips were parted. His breathing got deeper.

"You really want to have sex? With me?"

You deadpanned him, then leaned your head down to his base. Hobie gasped when you stuck your tongue out and licked all the way to his tips. Your played with it for a couple seconds, leaving him a shuddering mess. His precum leaked from it and you licked it all up reveling in the salty taste.

"O-oh..." he moaned when you grasped it gently and began to pump. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, so glad that he didn't have to imagine it was your hand beating his dick. He humped into it a little, and he looked so sexy crunching his abs that you couldn't help but to enclose your mouth over him.

"Oh, fuck," he exclaimed. He threw his head back up and gazed upon your form. You were giving him the sloppiest top he had ever seen, (he only watched BJ and missionary porn and you were much better than those girls)

God, he couldn't wait to get you under him and hump into you like's he's thought about for so long. He's used his hand, his pillow, he even looked up how to make his own flesh light because he would never be able to hide a real one from you. It was gross but fuck, how else was he supposed to get his rocks off? If he didn't do any of those things, he would have no control around you.

"Fuck, babe. Please keep going~" Hobie was drooling - actually drooling - out the side of his mouth. He panted and clenched his hands. You had to reach out and move them to your hair.

The poor thing panicked, he had no idea what you wanted him to do. He gently pet your small afro, more concerned that he was close to cumming down your throat.

You stopped and popped him out of your mouth, laughing a little at how cute he was.

You didn't notice how stressed he looked, him sitting up a little more in the chair. "Ngh, wait, no-" he whispered.

His dick bounces with each spray of his cum with him letting out a string of moans and curses as it lands on his stomach and chest. "Ffff...uh...uck..."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," you say, watching his fucked-out face. His head bounces with each deep breath he took.

"Why...did you...stop?" he asked in between pants.

"Why did you pat my head?" you asked, standing up, begrudgingly putting your clothes back on despite the ache between your legs.

"What was I supposed to do?" Hobie stares at your ass lustfully, feeling the blood rush back into his dick from how it moved.

"You were supposed to grab my hair and choke me with your dick, baby."

He gulps not being able to take his eyes off of you. "Oh."

You turned after putting your panties back on and froze. His dick was standing straight up again, the head glistening with thick white liquid. He stared at you embarrassingly, hoping that you would just come back over and kiss it.

"You could have said something before I started putting my shit back on."

"Sorry," he said, not being able to contain his excitement when you walked back over to him. His smile went away when you instead hovered yourself over his lap. His cum was still on his stomach and his dick. "W-Wait-"

"Yeah?" You whispered sensually, grabbing him again and pulling your panties to the side to line him up with you.

"I'm still-, I still have-, Is this okay?"

"I'm on the pill."

He starts getting nervous again, but he doesn't know why.

"You scared?" She asks.

He looks at her and rests his hand on her hip. "I don't want to hurt you. Or make you uncomfortable."

You giggled again. "I promise you I'll be fine."

"But, I still got my cum on me, babe."

"I know." You leans over to his ear and lick it. He shivers. "Isn't that so nasty?"

Hobie moaned as you begin to sink yourself onto him. You moan too, Hobie splitting you like you never imagined.

"You really want to shag a virgin?" He finally asked her, his voice wavering.

She rolled her eyes and sighed in frustration. "Virginity is a social construct. Don't be ashamed. Now shut the fuck up."

Definitely making a part 2 and a lil bonus and another bonus (ii)

Taglist is closed!

Masterlist

[churipu]

( OO1 ) ★ unwarranted assumptions , sukuna ryomen

featuring. sukuna ryomen x reader

warnings. cursing, college! au, sukuna and yuuji are twin brothers here lol, sukuna might be a lil ooc here (he's in love, he just doesn't know it pls spare him omg). // wc: 3.5k

ENTRY ( OO1 ) OF THE "INTO THE IPINVERSE" MILESTONE

"how do i know if i'm in love with someone?" "you want to kill everyone who gets near them." "oh, shit."

tag: @rrairey milov, ily for participating in this mwah mwah, @sad-darksoul, @sweeneyblue1 , @idkuluka, @colorful-happy-shit

sukuna and yuuji were quite the opposite. the only thing they share is their looks, and their love for basketball. that's about it. on one hand, we have itadori yuuji—the younger twin— who has a passion for basketball, is the campus' sunshine, and is always friendly to practically everyone.

on the other hand, we have sukuna ryomen—the older twin, just by twelve minutes— who also has a passion for basketball, is "considered" as one of the campus' scariest person, and is never friendly to everyone.

the two however, stuck to each other like glue. walking around campus with one another, like two peas in a pod, they did everything together. it's no longer an odd sight to see them both together — it is pretty weird if one is here, and the other is there.

despite their contrasts in personalities, the two were popular. being star athletes, constantly winning trophies for the campus, and climbing up in fame. hell, even people from different campus would drop by just to meet the two at times, it's funny.

"hey, great job on the match, yuuji."

then there was you. a friend of yuuji — the two of you met during the first semester, and have been good friends since then. however, you never really talked to sukuna. the only thing you both have exchanged were short greetings, and eye-contacts.

you had a cinch that the older twin doesn't particularly like you; but that was just your assumption. you didn't know the truth. this sole assumption was the only thing that made you cease contact with the male. in all honesty, you find him rather . . . well, intimidating. the aura he sets off was just, unsettling. so you just assumed that sukuna doesn't like you.

sukuna finds you rather, amusing. how you would only congratulate his younger brother, and not him as well despite him being next to his brother. how you would throw your gaze away the moment your eyes met his. how you would bow your head down a bit whenever you both exchanged greetings. he didn't understand why you were so intent on doing all that stuff, and so he assumed that you weren't fond of him.

the male wanted to question it, but really — it would be weird for him, and for you. so he never actually done it.

see? assumptions are such fucking party-poopers. i mean, if only the two of you had come to both of your senses and just talked instead of assuming things about one another, where you think sukuna hates you, and sukuna thinks you hated him.

"why do they do that?" sukuna finds himself asking his brother, yuuji. elbow nudging yuuji's arm lightly.

"i need names." yuuji replied back before averting his gaze to the side, watching his twin brother staring at something— or someone intently. yuuji looks over to what sukuna was so focused on, smirking lightly when he saw you in his own vision, "are y'talking about y/n?"

sukuna lightly grunted, leaning back onto the chair rest. his eyes finally ripping away from you, who was currently throwing laughs and giggles amongst your friend group.

"yeah, them. why'd they do that?" sukuna parrots.

"do what, exactly?" yuuji retorts back, leaning his cheek onto the palm of his hand, sighing out in triumph; trying to figure out where this conversation will go.

"avoid me, but not you." yuuji pops a small smile, lightly elbowing his brother's side, "what?"

"do y'like them?"

like? sukuna didn't like you. he just finds your attitude towards him amusing, and . . . maybe you confuse him a bit at the difference on how you treat yuuji and him. but sukuna would never say that to his brother, he'd never hear the end of it, he just knows it.

"like? psh, you've gotta be kidding me. i was just fucking curious about their behavior, you brat." he pushed yuuji away lightly before burying his face into his arms, heaving out a loud sigh.

yuuji chuckles, "brat? you're only twelve minutes older than i am," he sings out in a teasing manner.

sukuna swore he just finds you amusing. at first.

so why does it pisses him off that you ran to his brother's side after a match and handed him a bottle of energy drink, and not him. murmuring out strings of curses, he felt like an absolute buffoon, standing beside yuuji — drenched in sweat, using the hem of his jersey to wipe the dribbling sweat.

while yuuji had all the glory. getting a small cute, teddy bear motive handkerchief from you, an energy drink, and a congratu-fucking-lations.

"yeah — that buzzer beater was totally amazing, yuuji. congrats on winning again! not that i've ever doubt you or the rest," you complimented, and hearing 'the rest' coming out of your mouth, for some reason; pisses sukuna off even more.

the older twin swerved his shoes on the court's floor, letting his soles let out a screech as it rubbed against the shiny surface of the floor. earning both yours and yuuji's attention.

"y'alright?" yuuji asks, popping open the bottle cap of the energy drink from you. and the sight made sukuna ball his fists in annoyance — god, he didn't even know why he was feeling like such.

"yeah. 'm gonna head to change," sukuna mutters out, hesitantly turning away to leave.

and the moment he turns his body away, sukuna could hear the vivid voices of both you and yuuji exchanging goodbyes. and before he knew it, yuuji was walking alongside him, "are you really okay? you look like you need to let out a fuse."

sukuna answered with a soft hum, his eyes narrowing as he continued on walking to the locker room. still angry, frustrated, and annoyed all at once.

"y/n told me to tell you congrats, by the way."

sukuna peered over the locker's door and arched a brow, "why couldn't they tell me that themselves, hm?" yuuji chuckles, finding his brother's behavior funny; because when else was yuuji going to see sukuna act like this?

like a love struck puppy, who doesn't know they're in love.

"who knows?" yuuji shrugs, grabbing the hem of his jersey and ripping it off his body — breathing out loudly, using the handkerchief you gave him to dab the sweat on his face.

sukuna eyed his brother, squinting his eyes lightly before doing the same action, minus the handkerchief. while he was doing so, a thought passed his mind.

"how do i know if i'm in love with someone?" yuuji instantly knew who the person sukuna was talking about, but prompted to say nothing about it and just play along.

yuuji pretended to give the question a deep thought before eventually answering, "you want to kill everyone who gets near them."

sukuna stared at his brother for a short while, muttering out a subtle, "oh, shit."

the reaction was enough for yuuji to made his own conclusion, "you like y/n don't you? which explains why you're in such a shitty mood, since they only paid attention to me—"

"okay, shut the fuck up." sukuna blurted out, "so what if i fucking do, huh? it's not like they'd like me back anyways."

sukuna shuts the locker, the loud bang resounding in the almost empty locker room. yuuji broke out into a loud laugh, "there y'go, making assumptions here and there, it's not like you both have ever talked in a normal conversation before anyways. how do you know they don't like you?"

good point.

"what are you going to do without me?" yuuji sighs out exasperatedly, the younger twin approached his brother, sliding the partly (sweat) damp handkerchief into sukuna's grasp, "return this to them for me, and who knows — maybe you'll be able to make a more positive assumption or two after."

sukuna wondered why he was standing in front of you, his hand shoved out, in between his index finger and middle finger was the same handkerchief yuuji had told him to give back to you.

"the brat wants me to give this back to you." he grunted out, his voice deep and unfriendly.

you stood in front of him, blinking rapidly; not knowing of what to say, should you start off with a greeting? or just tell him thank you? or maybe congratulate him for the match?

and so you decided to do all three, in a random order.

"thank you for your win, congratulations, hi." oh, god. the moment he stared at you in plain confusion — or maybe despise, you just wanted to crawl under the ground and die right there and then.

". . . thanks." he slowly murmurs back, waiting for you to grab your small fabric from his fingers, but you never did, "are you gonna take this or what?"

sukuna wanted to punch himself on the face after you flinched at the tone of his voice, your fingers frantically ripping away the fabric from his touch, mumbling out apologies. he didn't mean for his voice to come out that harsh.

the male wasted no more time in turning his heels to walk away, noticing your tense form; instead of a more positive assumption, his assumption worsened from you hating him, to you hating and being scared of him.

". . . bye." he mutters out, walking away with long strides to go find yuuji.

and when he did, sukuna just wanted to use his younger brother as a punching bag. hell, he didn't know why he was so angry at yuuji, and himself. heavy on himself, though.

"woah, what's up with you?" yuuji pushes his brother away lightly, "how did it go? did you guys like . . . at least exchanged phone numbers or not?"

sukuna shook his head, "think they're scared of me." he mutters out, throwing his head back, stressed out.

"is that your assumption again?" sukuna didn't answer him, which confirmed the question. the younger one heaves out a loud sigh that attracted an odd look—more like a glare—from sukuna.

"i wan' to sock your face in so bad," he mutters out condescendingly, eyes boring into yuuji's face; which in a way intimidated the younger twin, of course.

with a nervous smile, yuuji raises both of his hands up in defense, "chill, 'm gonna give you their phone number, maybe y'should ask them out or something."

see, the thing is that sukuna hated texting— in a way, it's like leaving footprints everywhere. he hated all that stuff. call him old fashioned, but you know he has a pretty good point. so he refused blatantly, "no, jus' leave it to me, i'll think of something."

the gods are on his side.

"i guess, we're partners?" you asked him meekly, slipping into yuuji's empty seat since the younger one was away with his assigned partner on the other side of the lecture hall.

sukuna hums, not knowing what else to say. his eyes followed your figure as you dropped a binder on top of the table, though— one thing particularly caught his eyes. the strip of photo that was tucked beneath the binder's transparent cover, he recognized you, your two other friends, and yuuji.

why the hell was his brother there? the male had one of his eyes closed, and a toothy grin; showing off his pearly whites while his fingers are formed into a peace sign. his cheek leaning onto the side of your head.

indubitably silenced, you averted your gaze to his face slightly. seeing that his attention was on your binder, you awkwardly shifted the book away— and sukuna came into his senses, now looking onto the surface of the table.

"uh . . . should we get started then?" you proposed, and he gave out a subtle nod.

the passing half an hour was just plain awkward. awkward is an understatement, you wanted to just walk out on him— but that would be rude. plus, he's actually doing his share of work, and you did yours. only conversing when you both needed opinions on each other's results.

"so," sukuna started, breaking the silence that seemed like had been going on for like . . . forever.

"you like my brother?"

you slowly tilted your head to look at him, blinking your eyes feverishly, "what—? god, no. what? where did that even come from?" sukuna felt the knot in his stomach unknot, a little relieved to hear your answer.

"just askin', since you're both so close." he shrugs, not even sparing you a glance.

"you're assuming." you found yourself chuckling, "jus' because we're close, doesn't mean i like yuuji— i think of him more of a . . . brother figure," you informed sukuna.

"oh." he resounds, "since we're twins, y'think of me as a brother too or is that exclusive for my twin?" sukuna questions, his tone laced with mischief.

rolling your eyes, you answered him in the same joking manner, "exclusive for your twin, not like we ever talked before, y'know?" oh. right, that did shut sukuna up, his silence killing the conversation almost immediately.

his silence domineered over you. it was like he was planning to do something to you right this very moment, until your lecturer calls out that the session was finished (and how the project should be submitted next week during his session).

saved by the lecturer.

"uh . . . well, should we continue this next time then?" you asked him, packing your stationary.

"yeah, sure."

" . . . if you don't mind, can i have your number? for project purposes," jackpot. sukuna took the chance and nodded, using his pen to swiftly write his digits on your binder, "thanks, i'll text you later. bye, sukuna."

once you left his sight, yuuji pops in. grinning efficiently, "i saw that, this must be fate, i can just feel it."

"you believe in that shit? we're just gonna talk about the project." sukuna retorts back, packing his own belongings before swinging his bag strap over his shoulder.

"oh come on, you're smiling. at least your body's honest," yuuji teases, earning an up right smack to the back of his head, "if they ask where you should do the project — say our house."

absolutely not. sukuna thought.

yet here you were, sitting on the floor of his room, scribbling away on a piece of paper as he sat across from you — glancing up from his own paper from time to time, taking a swift look at your focused face before returning to his own.

sukuna couldn't focus at all. he wanted to, really. but he was alone with you in his room, this was a chance for him; to get to know you. he had so much to say, but he didn't know where to start.

yuuji, earlier in the day had even gone out to give him a list of questions to ask you so you both could have a better relationship. sukuna didn't think it was needed, since well, it is sukuna. why would he need a list for?

on the other side, you too, were dying to say something. but the permanent scowl on sukuna's face made you falter even before you could take a whiff of him.

a knock to sukuna's door was all it took for the both of you to stop scribbling, finally taking a good look of each other. and the door swung open, revealing yuuji with a white shirt and a yellow jacket on, he was holding a plate of what seemed to be chocolate chip cookies, "so— how's your project holding up?"

sukuna shrugs, "i guess, it's fine."

yuuji slid the plate on top of the wooden table, grinning lightly, "you guys getting along just fine?" he questions, squatting down.

you nodded, "we're okay."

okay? okay??? well, in a way you and sukuna are both fine. but sukuna didn't feel fine, "guess so."

the dopey smile you had on the moment yuuji entered his room made sukuna think that you didn't feel comfortable enough to be in the same room as he is, alone. and honestly, just the thought of it made his stomach churn in agony — because, why must it be his own brother that he's jealous of?

"well, i gotta go. dig in the cookies, g'luck on the project you guys," yuuji smacked sukuna's back harshly before trotting away to leave the room, mutely shutting the door.

you grabbed a piece of cookie, taking a crunchy bite out of it. marveling in delight.

"are you scared of me?"

sukuna needed to stop with the sudden questions that made your heart leap at least three miles away. widening your eyes a bit, you arched both of your brows, "wha . . . t?"

you stopped chewing altogether, eyeing the male across from you like he's crazy. i mean — if you were to be honest, you were partially intimidated by him and the aura he's giving out.

"i asked if you're scared of me," sukuna repeats, laying his pen down onto the table as he intertwined his fingers together, waiting for an answer.

you nodded, "truthfully, you're intimidating."

oh.

sukuna expected that answer, but why did it actually made his heart throb? as in — the person he likes is actually scared of him, and it broke a little part of him. however, he still has a scowl on his face and his expression unchanged.

"you have this big scowl every time i go around yuuji, and it intimidates me. so i just assumed that you hated me," sukuna blinked, brows furrowing slowly; the creases in between his brows deepening by the passing second.

"what? i assumed that you hated me." he replied, emphasizing on the 'me'. and this time you furrowed your brows, swallowing the bite of cookie you took before and wiping the crumbs off the corner of your lips in confusion.

"what? no, i don't. what? why would you even assume that?" you questioned him, now dropping your own pen onto the table, completely disregarding the project.

"why would i not? y'keep avoiding me like i'm a bad person, so i just assumed that you hated me." sukuna replies.

"i thought you hated me, because you look like you want to kill me every single time, so i just never talked to you, it was pretty scary." you retorted back, shaking your head, the cookie was now a decoration in between your fingers.

sukuna can't help but to chuckle, "so it was jus' our shitty assumptions?"

you hummed, "i guess so."

to say the least, sukuna felt like he was breathing again. yuuji was definitely right about all these assumption things — and he kept in mind that he'd praise the younger twin later (maybe). the sight of you eating a cookie in front of him made him feel a little overwhelmed, now that he got all the hard part done. he felt like he could talk with you now.

"then . . . can i get to know ya'?"

you narrowed your eyes at him, "really? no strings attached?" he raised both of his hands up in defense, shaking his head lightly, "why do you look like you want to kill me every single time then? are you plotting my murder? is this a trick?"

your questions made him pop out a light smirk, "so what if i am, huh?" he teased.

rolling your eyes, you shoved a hand out to him, "since we didn't start off in the right path, why don't we start over? i feel like this is the only appropriate way."

sukuna raised his hand up to engulf yours in his, feeling a light tingle in his chest as you squeezed his hand lightly, "i'm y/n l/n, just call me y/n. cool?"

the male scoffs, "cool. sukuna ryomen, it's only fair if you get to call me by my first name too, so . . . call me ryomen."

"ryo for short. that's your name now," sukuna arched a brow with an amused smile, nodding his head. internally doing a victory dance in his mind as he just got a nickname from you — and yuuji is just 'yuuji'.

a win for him today.

"you're a little smiley today, did something happen between y/n and you earlier?" yuuji asks, pressing the pause button on his controller to face his brother who was laying down on the couch, the corner of his lips tugged upwards.

"i'm ryo now."

"ryo as in ryomen? i mean — that's your name, so? what are you implying?" sukuna stared at yuuji with a lighthearted smile. yuuji is somehow smart to catch up with these kind of things that it sometimes baffles sukuna, "oh, i get it. so, now you both are on first name basis?"

not even first name basis. this is a nickname that they gave me. sukuna sings in his mind, breathing out in content.

"it's a nickname. they gave it to me," yuuji cooed loudly, tossing his controller aside, "y'know . . . i was assuming they didn't like me, and they assumed it was the other way. they assumed i hated them because apparently i looked like i wanted to kill them?"

yuuji pointed his finger accusingly, "see? i was right!"

sukuna rolled his eyes, "that's the first time y'have ever been right, don't get ahead of yourself."

"so — when are you planning to confess to them, hm?"

a light kick to yuuji's side was enough to send him toppling over the couch, whining out in pain, "we just became friends, and y'think i should confess? that can wait," sukuna mumbles out.

sukuna was just delighted that his assumptions were unwarranted.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[carlsangel]

KEEP TALKING PLEASE?

carl grimes x fem!reader

(carl is a chest guy.)

tags: smut, BOOBS!!! and all that jazz

masterlist here!

Carl loves your body, there’s no denying that. Whether you liked it or hated it, he would always love and adore it. He absolutely loved worshipping your body while you two were alone in your room. Usually when you’re out with others he does it quietly. He’ll run his hand up and down your thigh if you’re sitting or he’ll just stare at you for minutes until you notice.

One part of you he adore the most are your boobs. As silly as it sounds, consider him obsessed. The first time he saw them was way into your relationship, a point in time where you were sharing a room but you would change in front of him. He was always so curious and couldn’t help but ask so one time you let him see. He practically froze while he was sat on the bed.

You went to put a shirt on but he immediately protested. “Wait- just hold on.” He shyly waves you over to sit beside him. He’d admire you for a moment before looking up at you, putting his hands out towards your breast, waiting for you to give him the go ahead. When you smile and give him a small nod, he gently cups them, grazing his thumb over your nipple. You breathe in a sharp breath and he looks up at you slightly alarmed before realizing it felt good for you.

From there, he’d just massage you while you made out. Slow, gentle kisses while he played with your chest. It was probably his favorite moment of his life by far.

It reached another level when he started to use his mouth. At first it was something he’d done when you guys were intimate, but then it became something for comfort. Anything with your boobs really. It was comforting for him and he wasn’t sure why, maybe it was how warm you were or how soft your skin was.

You could be laying down on your bed, cuddling with him while talking. He’d grow to get a bit sleepier and quieter so he lifts your shirt a bit in his hands and looks to see if you’d let him like usual. “Yeah go ahead baby.” He loved how gentle you’d be with him while he was sleepy. It was just everything he needed. He’d lift your shirt up enough to reveal your bra and he’d pout at the barrier between him and what he really wanted.

You were wearing a sports bra so he just slid the fabric up to see your chest. He smiled immediately and before you knew it, his mouth was latched onto your tit. He’d shut his eyes as he sucked gently, drawing small moans from you. He didn’t mean for it to be sexual, it was just something he found comfort in. He pulls back a moment to look up at you. “Keep talking…please?” Once again his tone was sweet and light.

You’d just talk and talk about your day while he sucked at your nipple. He’d make small noises against you, which would die down as he fell asleep.

Other occasions he’d just enjoy holding them. Kind of how women find holding their own boobs comfortable, he’s the same except they don’t belong to him. Sometimes you’d watch movies in the living room on the couch while Rick and Michonne are chatting in the kitchen behind you both. All he wanted to do the entire time was to put his hand under your shirt and hold your tit because it was warm and comfy but they wouldn’t leave and he got so frustrated.

Anytime they spoke to him he’d be sort of irritated until they left.

I think it’s safe to say that Carl is a boob guy.

a/n: sorry this is so short but i really like it!!! i actually got two requests for this so i hope it meets the expectations LOL okay that’s it bye love you!

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh @callsignwidow

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

hi!! this is the same anon from earlier and i saw you wanted to write for james potter. and i’m so sorry if you’ve done something similar. so maybe after a quidditch match, win or loss, all james wants to do is lie and bed with reader and hug her. but they’re not dating and he ends up confessing too, still tired, he doesn’t even realize he’s admitted his feelings

thank you again for your time:))

-can i be ‘🎀 anon’? lolol

hi lovely 🎀! thanks for your sweet words and adorable requests 😊 i hope you like it!

pairing: James Potter x reader tags: fluffy fluff, some angst, gn reader if you want word count: 1.9k

Cuddles and Confessions

So close. So bloody close. And to bloody Slytherin to top it off? The defeat stung worse than any other James could remember. 

As he lumbers back up toward the castle after the match, frustrated and furious, some Slytherin fans jeer at him from across the lawns. It pushes him over an edge, and he turns to — well, he’s not sure to what; berate them? beat them up? — a strong hand grabs his shoulder and turns him back around.

“Easy, mate. They’re idiots but they’re not worth it,” Sirius says easily. Sirius of all people being the voice of reason has James realizing maybe he needs to calm down. 

James falling into step with Sirius without a word, the two make their way back up to the castle. 

When they get to the common room, it’s packed with mad and sad-looking Gryffindors consoling each other, complaining about bad calls, bad-mouthing the Slytherins: a typical post-match defeat. 

“Thank Godric,” Sirius sighs, heading immediately to a small table stacked with firewhisky. He grabs two glasses, but James stops him before he fills the second one.

“No thanks, mate. Don’t really feel like the company,” he says, scanning the room. He admits to himself there is one face that would have made him stay, one person whose company was actually the only thing he wanted right now. But he doesn’t see you. So he stalks off, bounding up the stairs to his currently empty dormitory. 

He’s lying on his bed, tossing a ball up and down when he hears a soft knock. 

“What?” he yells, the harshness of his voice even surprising him a bit. Surprise shifts to horror when your beautiful, blushing face peeks around the door. 

“Hi, Jamie,” you say shyly. “I’m sorry. Sirius said you wanted to be alone. I should’ve listened. I didn’t mean to annoy you. I’ll just —” 

“Wait, wait, wait,” he rushes, going over to you and pulling you into his room. “I’m so sorry, love. Please don’t go.” 

You smile a bit at this, looking down at your feet before nodding slightly. 

“Ugh, I’m a prick. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” His voice is soft now, warm and enveloping as you look into his pleading eyes. 

“It’s okay,” you chuckle. “I get it. Rough night, huh?” 

“Yeah,” he chuckles, smiling for the first time all day. You had a way of bringing that out in him. 

“Want a hug?” you offer. He nods immediately, internally cringing for being so uncool in front of you.

“Yes please,” he half laughs. 

You step close to him, and even this increased proximity has him reeling. He can’t wait to feel your warmth around him, to smell your hair as he nuzzles into you. 

He’d been hoping to win tonight’s match for more reasons than one. He hated Slytherin for starters. He loved winning for seconds. But also, he had been hoping a Gryffindor victory party could be the perfect place to finally tell you how he feels about you. Firewhisky flowing, adrenaline pumping, maybe he’d finally have the courage he was supposed to have as a Gryffindor and tell you the truth. 

You bring your arms up around his shoulders, pulling him close to you, bringing one hand to his messy hair and scratching comfortingly. James’s large body immediately melts into yours. He hums into the crook of your neck, and you giggle. 

“Thanks for coming to check on me,” he whispers into your shoulder, holding you close. 

“Why would I want to be downstairs wallowing with everyone else when I could wallow with you?” you tease, pulling back slightly to be face to face again. He hates how much he just wants to pull you back into him. 

“Oh, I’m much better company than those wankers,” he plays along. 

“Yes, I’m sure. Seems you’re quite chipper from your greeting.” 

He cringes and whispers “sorry” again. You shake your head quickly, wanting him to know you’re only teasing. 

The silence stretches a bit too long, neither of you knowing what to say. It’s especially awkward because your hands are still on his shoulders, his on your hips. 

“So what were you doing?” you ask, coming up with nothing better. 

“Just lying in bed, wallowing,” he confesses. 

“Sounds fun,” you chuckle. You break apart from him, the tension becoming too much and head over to his bed, plopping down onto it. He laughs and follows, sitting close next to you. “What do you want to do?” you ask, your voice low. “I came to cheer you up, but I think I’m doing a bang up job so far,” you chuckle, scrunching your nose. 

Before thinking about it, James brings his hand up to your face, lightly tracing his finger down your nose for you to relax it. 

“You’re not,” he says earnestly. “I’m already better, just having you here.” He thinks he feels your face warm where his hand still caresses it but pushes the idea down, not wanting it to be wishful thinking. 

“So what do you want to do?” you ask again gently.

“Honestly?” he asks shyly. Nervous was a weird look on him, usually so cocky. 

“Of course,” you giggle in your warmest tones, wanting him to be open with you, relishing in the intimacy you seemed to be building. 

“I want to keep lying in bed wallowing.” 

You stiffen immediately, chiding yourself for misreading his nerves. He wanted you to leave; that’s why he seemed shy. 

James sees — and feels — you tense at his words, and luckily for him, he realizes right away what you’re probably thinking. He continues before he can stop himself, dreading your leaving more than dreading saying something stupid. 

“With you,” he adds hastily. He feels himself blush, hates it, but pushes on. “I want to lie in bed and wallow… with you,” he repeats more softly. 

“Oh,” is all you can think to respond.

“I mean, just hang out, you know. I just… you just… I just like hanging out with you. And even just your hug made me feel better,” he rambles sweetly. 

You smile and pull away from him a bit. Before he can be disappointed, though, you’re pulling him with you as you shuffle further back onto the bed, lying down and bringing him horizontal with you by the shoulder. 

You’re lying next to each other, both tense, facing the ceiling, your sides grazing but nothing more. You look over at him, and he looks at you, and you both look away like idiots. 

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself he literally just told you he wanted to be here with you, clinging to that to give you the courage for what you were about to do. You turn toward him and bring your hand up to his hair. His eyes snap to yours. First they show shock but that quickly melts to adoration. Then they show nothing at all as they close in comforted bliss. You chuckle softly and see the corners of his mouth tug up at the sound. 

“Feels nice,” he whispers.

“Yeah?” you whisper too. He just nods. 

You shuffle closer to him, and he turns his body towards yours. Your arm is cramped now between your two close bodies, so you do the reasonable thing for comfort, you tell yourself, and wrap your arm under his shoulders. His face coming to the crook of your neck, you miss the huge smile that breaks out on it at the contact. 

He’s lying on your shoulder now, the rest of his body flush with yours. Your arm is around him, your hand coming up to continue playing with his hair. James brings his arm over you, hugging you close, and you place your arm on top of his. 

It crosses James’s mind that friends don’t cuddle. But he stops his internal monologue in time to savour the moment rather than over-analyse it, which he’s bound to do later.

You just lie there in silence for  a bit, the tension having eased considerably. 

In your warm, comfortable cocoon, you bring your face closer to the top of his head on your shoulder and nuzzle him a bit. He just hums in response. 

“You’re comfy,” he says. It sounds muffled, his mouth squished against your shoulder. You laugh, and it shakes him up and down the slightest bit. 

James loves the feeling of your vibrating chest just below him. He can’t help himself and tickles you where his hand rests near your ribcage. You laugh louder. You hold down his arm to stop him and playfully shake him off a bit to protect yourself from more tickling. His grip tightens in response, and he’s almost on top of you by the time he’s done adjusting himself. 

“No, no, don’t go,” he chuckles. “I’ll stop.” 

Your laughter has mostly subsided, but your voice is raspy as you respond, “Promise?” He nods into your shoulder. “Fine. I’ll stay if you behave.” 

He laughs, squeezes you, whispers, “Promise.”

Any tension that had been left has dissipated completely, and you fall into easy chat as you hold each other close. Your hand continues playing with his hair, tugging it when he says something stupid. His arm draped over you occasionally squeezing you more tightly whenever either of you says something nice. You go over the highlights of the match, lamenting the result. Without realizing it, you start talking about any and everything else, and by the time the conversation lulls for the first time, both of you chuckling lightly, James wonder how much time has gone by. Not enough, he thinks to himself, wishing this would go on forever. 

The quiet, your hand in his hair, your warmth radiating around his body, it all soothes him into a half slumber. It washes over him how exhausted his body is from the match, how tense it had been from the fury at its result.

“This is nice,” he slurs. 

“Mmhmm,” you hum. 

“I’m not even mad anymore.” He sounds astounded even in his sleepy tones. You chuckle. 

“Good.” 

“Mmmm. We’ll prank the Slytherins tomorrow. And I’ll think of another time to tell you how I feel.” Your hand halts its motions. James is still completely relaxed, and you realize he’s pretty much half asleep, not truly realizing what he’s saying.

You don’t want to take advantage of him in this state, but you want to be honest with him too, and he clearly wanted to talk to you about whatever this was. 

So, you warmly whisper, “How do you feel, Jamie?”

“I love you,” he mumbles. You’re melting at his words, and you can’t wait till tomorrow to say them back. You shift your weight so you’re more facing James than under him, and this rattles him a bit more awake. His drowsy eyes are heavy initially but then they startle slightly. Before he can worry or regret, you hold his face gently in both your hands, your thumbs caressing his cheeks. 

“James…” He just looks deeply into your eyes, his eyebrows furrowed, not saying anything. “I love you, too.” 

His face shifts as if in slow motion. His eyebrows rise; his lips smile widely; his eyes crinkle.

“You love me?” He sounds equal parts giddy and disbelieving. 

“Yeah, I love you, you grump.” He chuckles. “You love me?” you echo.

He takes his time responding. Scanning your features adoringly. Eventually, finally, calmly and assuredly he says again, “I love you,” nodding as he closes the little distance between you. 

Your kiss is slightly awkward at first, your lips smiling automatically at his words before realizing they’re being called on to take on new, intoxicating shapes. 

[moondirti]

pregnant diner waitress reader just has a dirtbag babydaddy, calling her and screaming the whole over the car and her being late.

honestly i hadn’t planned to have her baby daddy in the picture at all but the angst potential here… too tempting to pass up

PART 1 • PART 2

tags: simon x reader x johnny. darkfic. dirtbags. verbal abuse (not by ghost or soap). pregnant fem!reader who still hasn’t realised she’s being actively abducted.

It takes a bit to convince you to let them drive you home.

Your resistance is met with a paradoxical reaction by both men. On the one hand, there’s a warm comfort at the knowledge that you aren’t so easy to take advantage of. Even in your distraught state, you push back against every solution they propose. It is quite a detour, I’d hate to inconvenience you or I’m sure I can get a friend to come out instead. You’re wary, though your exhaustion sways you to assume the best of them, which means that you aren’t quite at the point of flat out refusal.

Otherwise, they – Simon, in particular – simmer in frustration. Red wine in a saucepan, reduced to a stronger version of itself over flame. Bitter. Strong. More insistent: cannae rest easy tonicht knowing we left an expecting hen tae fend fur herself. They poke at the knot until they find a loosening, tugging, tugging, then abandoning it once a more promising end appears.

Eventually, their combined efforts (though most of the credit can be attributed to the sincere, puppy dog look Johnny sports at all times. Hard to resist, even for Simon) dismantle your willpower. You duck your head in a modest thank you and shuffle behind them, seating yourself firmly behind the drivers seat even though you’re offered shotgun, hugging your bag over your belly.

“Do you need me to type in the address on google maps or something?” You say after they pull out of the parking lot.

“Y’were on about Adderford.” Simon meets your wide eyes in the rearview.

“Yeah.”

“Reckon I know the road.”

Simon does know the way, and so does Johnny. Adderford, off of exit A36. Near a polluted lake that was the victim of an attempt to turn the town into an industrial hub. Nothing to show for that, of course – all it has to offer now is a poor quality of life for all those who weren’t fortunate enough to get out.

Yeah. They know the way, and their confidence must set a precedent for the trip. Your anxious fidgeting stops after 10 minutes of driving, and you’re smiling at the nonsensical story coming from the passengers seat a mere 5 minutes later. In the meanwhile, your rationalisation is visible. Simon watches your gaze flicker back and forth between them, then around the car that must feel luxurious next to yours. If they wanted to do something bad to you, then they would’ve already done so. Besides, what kind of delinquents drive a wrangler?

30 minutes in, you’re fast asleep.

They really couldn’t have asked for a better turn of events.

They come up on exit A36 and stick to the middle lane, passing the little sign that points to Adderford being a couple miles out. Past the point of no return, beelining towards the secluded house they’ve made your new home, and you can be none the wiser. Johnny can’t believe their luck, babbling in a hushed voice about how nice it’ll when you to wake up in their bed.

The fantasy loses its grip when your phone rings, blaring from deep within your bag. Panic ripples across your face, jolting you from your sleep as you scramble for the device. The series of events unfolds in far too familiar a way for one of them. Simon – a buried torment wringing around his guts as he listens in.

“H-Hello? Shit. What–” You’re breathless, stuttering. Back to that scared little thing they found by her car, crying. “Please- please calm down.”

And though you try to keep your voice low, they leech on to every word you say. Someone on the other line yells, indistinct insults punching through the mic and landing. You wilt, tucking your lip underneath two teeth, waiting the anger out.

(Tommy donned the same expression those nights when things got bad. Simon remembers hugging him against his chest so he wouldn’t have to face the misery his brother’s countenance wrought.)

“You shouldn’t- I’m sorry, but I thought I c-changed the locks. You’re not allowed to be in… not in my apartment.” More yelling. Soap twists a fist, concoting a hundred different ways he can track whoever it is down. Make them pay for their abuse with their own tongue down their throat. “It’s none of your business- you left…”

“Easy.” Simon whispers to his partner.

“Si.”

“I know, boy.” Perhaps all too well. It gets harder to keep a firm steer over the wheel.

“Don’t accuse me of– my fucking car broke down! You shouldn’t even– fuck! Hello? Hello?” A low scream tears from your throat, prelude to the aggressive shoving of your phone down into back your bag. Trembling fingers press down over your eyes, rubbing until your tears soak into your skin. Ridding of the evidence to your dismay. You suck in large gulps of air, holding them in your chest until it aches, then gasp out equally hefty exhales.

No one speaks for a while. Then–

“I don’t think I should go home right now.”

Too broken for them to feel anything but overwhelming pity. Johnny clicks his tongue, looking over his shoulder so you can latch on to the sincerity that seems to calms you so.

“O’course. Whatever ye need, lass.”

Your frown softens “There’s a motel–”

“Next one’s farther ou’ than our place is. Can’t take you there and back m’fraid.” Simon interjects. Like a record scratch, or sandpaper on an already raw moment. It must make him an awful man to use your earlier propriety against you, but conviction has superseded his desire to act decently.

Sure enough, you visibly blanch, shaking your head and stumbling over your words.

“No! No, of course not. Of course- that was so silly of me to ask. You can, I mean… you can drop me off anywhere, really. I’ll sort t-things out for myself.”

“Not what I meant, pet.”

You don’t catch on. He doesn’t repeat.

Johnny bridges the gap.

“We’ve got a spare bedroom.”

next part

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn't go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: get ready for the hate.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The tunnel lights up ahead of you, revealing the cubic rock walls as you plant torches in your stead. The eerie soundtrack of night time and the ominous groan of zombies looming somewhere in the cave have you uptight. Silently, you press on, digging and mining mindlessly, fingers mashing the buttons on your controller. 

“Hey, where are you?” Jacob’s voice startles you. 

You nearly forgot you’re playing co-op. You sniff and shake your head, cursing aloud as your shock has you succumbing to the arrow of a sneaky skeleton. You sigh as your possessions scatter and you spawn back in your bed. 

“Back home,” you say glumly, “just ate it.” 

“Ah, damn,” his deep voice rolls in your noise-cancelling headset, “sorry, hope that wasn’t me.” 

“No, I wasn’t paying attention,” you hum and sigh.  

“Ah,” he accepts and lets silence linger before he clicks his tongue, “what’s going on? Everything alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you put the controller down, your avatar sitting on the geometric bed, “I just...” you stretch your neck and massage your scalp around the thick band of the headset, “got a lot on my mind.” 

“Right. I thought you were all done exams,” he says. 

“I am, but... packing. Going home. I called my old boss and turns out I’m not gonna have a job this summer. Gotta start over,” you yawn and rub your eyes, “what about you? Final exam tomorrow?” 

“Uh... yeah,” he hesitates as if he forgot. You do wonder why he isn’t cramming right now. You could never play minecraft all night the day before a final. “Easy stuff. I’m not worried.” 

You scoff. You wish you could say the same. All you’ve done is worry those last two weeks. Exams, getting home, getting a job. Your grandmother won’t very happy to find out you’ll be slumming it for a while. At least you tucked away some money through the semester. 

“Hey, if you need a few bucks...” Jacob offers. 

“What? Are you crazy? No way,” you exclaim, “really, no, I couldn’t. I’ll be fine. I just... I hate looking for jobs. You know how it is. Friggin awkward.” 

“It’s not a big deal. My dad sent me my birthday money so...” 

“Uh uh,” you deny him again, “that’s way too much. I couldn’t-- we haven’t even met.” 

“Mm, yeah, about that,” he exhales into his microphone, “I, uh, got an extra ticket to this Con. I figured out that’s it like the midway point between us so...” 

“A con? Oh, wow--” 

“Yeah, but I get that it would be expensive so maybe I could pay for your trip?” 

“Jacob,” you wiggle the controller restlessly, “I can't accept that. It’s so nice but... it’s a lot.” 

“I wouldn’t offer it was too much,” his voice is soft, meek, and defeated. You feel bad but you would feel worse taking advantage of his kindness. “We’ve been talking all year. I just figured it would be a good chance to meet up. It would be in public and something we both like so...” 

You scratch your neck as it speckles with heat. You don’t know what’s more insulting; yes or no. 

“Can I think about it?” You ask thinly. 

The line is quiet. You look at the screen and it goes dim from your idling. You hit the analog stick and fix your headphones. 

“Jacob?” You murmur. 

“Sure, think about it,” he says, his voice raspy and rocky. It’s strange. You’ve seen him in pictures and his voice doesn’t really match his appearance. He sounds a lot older than he looks. “It’s next month so lots of time.” 

“I’m sorry,” you cringe. “I just wouldn’t want to waste your money.” 

“Trust me, it wouldn’t be a waste,” he insists, “this last year has sucked. So much. You got me through it all.” His microphone scuffs, “studying, exams, all that stuff. It’s tough making new friends. Seems like everyone here knows each other from high school.” 

“Yeah, totally,” you agree.  

You’re not exactly the most popular person. You have people you know in each class but not too many friends you hang out with outside the lecture hall or library. So far, not too many people want to spend hours mining digital gold or racing cartoon characters around a rainbow track. 

“Well, you should probably get some sleep,” you yawn, “you got your big exam and... I gotta keep packing. Gotta catch the greyhound tomorrow night.” 

“Sure, uh, yeah, right,” his disappointment is potent, “hey, will you text me when you get home? Just so I know you made it.” He snorts, “god, I sound like my dad right now.” 

“Oh, of course,” you chirp back, “I’ll try to remember. Might be late.” 

“That’s fine. Just as long as you let me know.” 

“Don’t worry about me,” you assure him, “not ‘til I have to face my grandma. Ha.” 

“Yeah, good luck with that,” he says, “well... er...” 

“Good night,” you finish for him, “let me know how the exam goes too.” 

“Will do,” his timbre gets even lower, “night.” 

You sign off and shut down the console. Another yawn flows through you and waters in your eyes. You should sleep, you got a long day waiting for you, but you know it won’t be easy. Not with so much on your mind, not least of all, Jacob’s invitation. 

🎮

You text Jacob as you get on the bus, to make sure he doesn’t worry. It’s so sweet that he does, even some of your girlfriends don’t bother that much. Not that you mind the ‘hey, bitch’ Janet sends you every now and again to make sure you’re still alive. 

You fall asleep on the bus. You’ve never been one to sleep while travelling but you’re exhausted from a night of anxious tossing and turning. After spending all day packing up the last of your things and scouring your dorm room, you’re beat to hell. 

It’s midnight as you get to your grandmother’s house. She’s up reading another Stephen King classic in her rocking chair. She’s always been a night owl and a voracious book hound. She grumbles at you but doesn’t bother to ask how your trip was. 

“Hey, grandma,” you hike up your bag and smile.  

She growls again, eyes not leaving the page. You should know better by now not to interrupt her. You shoulder on and head down to the spare room where you spent most of your high-school career. You shut the door gently as the old hardwood floors creak with your weight and you drop your bag on the squeaky bed. 

You fish out your phone and plug it in as the battery flashes red with only two percent left. You leave it on the night table and stretch out, not bothering to change out of your hoodie and jeans. It’s not long before you descend back into the same dreams that marked your journey home. 

You wake up to buzzing. Your phone shakes the nightstand, rattling it against the bed frame. You groan and roll onto your side, reaching blindly for offending object. You hit the side button to dismiss the call.  

You blink away the bleariness and focus on the screen. Along with the missed call are several text messages. You squint as you expand the notifications. Jacob! You forgot to message. 

‘Hey, you home?’ 

‘Checking in. Must be busy getting settled in. Just let me know when you’re safe.’ 

‘Not meaning to be weird but everything okay?’ 

‘Please answer me. I’m worried.’ 

You drag your thumb around the keyboard, letting it predict your words; ‘sorry! I was so tired. Home now and safe 😊' 

Three dots pop up then swoop away. You frown as the same thing happens several times before a response appears. 

‘Was really worried. Thanks for finally answering. Been up all night.’ 

You’re stunned by the terse response. Yeah, you forgot to answer but he doesn’t need to worry that much. You frown and shift onto your side. 

‘Srry again. Tired. Talk in morning. Night.’ 

You turn your phone on silent and plug it back into the cord. You do feel bad but you’re too exhausted to let it keep you up. Besides, you need your sleep. You have lots of job hunting to do in the morning. Not to mention, your grandmother to face. 

🎮

You let Jacob cool down after your return home. Rather, he doesn’t text and you’re too distracted to do the same. As much as you’d like to sit around and game, your grandmother was as disappointed as you expected with your employment status, even when you gave her the money you had left in your emergency fund. 

After a week, you finally get a bite. It’s nothing special. There’s a seasonal ice cream shop in a booth shaped like a vanilla cone that needs a cashier on weeknights. It’s less than full time hours but it’s better than nothing. It will be strange working with high school juniors but you can’t afford to be picky. 

‘Game tonight?’ The text interrupts your first shift. You don’t have a chance to answer as a family approaches the window to order. 

You get them the soft serve and take their payment, bidding them a good evening with their vanilla points already drooping in the summer heat. You glance around at the mostly empty picnic tables. Soccer practice will end soon and you’ll be overloaded with eight-year-olds. 

‘Srry. New job. 1st shift. Maybe tmrw.’ 

‘New job? Congrats. Why didn’t you tell me?’ 

You sigh.  

‘Time got ahead of me.’ 

‘Same. Catch up tomorrow then. Minecraft?’ 

‘Sure. Tmrw.’ 

You slip your phone away. A mother and daughter approach and ask for a sundae and a banana split. As much as you love ice cream, working with it hasn’t tested your cravings very much. In fact, you might be falling out of love with it. The smell of vanilla and overly sweetened strawberries is kind of gross when it’s all you breathe. 

As you watch the happy customers walk away, you smile. Maybe it will be good to get some mining done. It will take your mind off of everything else. Hell, it might even make you feel like you’re doing something useful. 

🎮

“Shit, oh, sorry,” Jacob corrects himself. You always think it's kind of funny how he doesn’t like to swear. “My diamond armor.” 

“Oh no,” you utter, “where are you? I’ll grab your stuff.” 

He gives his coordinates and you turn around, leaping over the green blocks to make your way there. Despite your reticence at the beginning, you’re feeling better about the session. He wasn’t as tense as he seemed in his texts. 

“So, uh, did you think about the con?” Jacob asks. 

“The con? I almost forgot. When is it?” 

He gives the dates and you hum. Your chest flutters at the thought still. You’re not stupid. Meeting people IRL is not like online, no matter how many hours you’ve mined together. As much as you enjoy chatting with Jacob, you don’t know about meeting up. 

“I get it if you can’t get the time off but my offer still stands to cover the trip. If you wanna stay the night, I’ll even get an airBnB.” 

“Oh, wow, that’s a lot. I’m working now. I could put in,” you offer.  

“Is that a yes?” He asks hopefully. 

“I don’t know... I mean, I’ll have to look into it,” you say evasively. “Talk to my boss and grandma and all that.” 

“Right, right,” he tries to sound unbothered, “makes sense. Of course, no pressure. How about I send you the ticket either way? Haven’t got anyone else to bite.” 

“Oh, well, hold off, I wouldn’t want to take it and not use it,” you collect his weapons and armor from the ground in the game. 

It’s silent as you focus on getting every little thing. 

“Sorry, did I freak you out?” He asks, “I’m really not trying to pressure you, just got excited thinking about it.” 

“I know, Jacob, it’s not that, it’s just... a lot.” 

“Totally get it,” he intones, “let me know whenever you got an answer. Uh, where are you? I’m tryna find you.” 

“Just stay there, I'll come back to the house,” you assure him, happy to focus on the game instead. 

Still, you can’t entirely lose yourself in it. You’re sure he’s a nice guy. From pictures, he’s less than scary, and he’s never been anything but friendly. It’s not like the other dudes you meet online who jump to asking about your bra size and all that. It just isn’t smart. 

Well, maybe if you don’t show up alone. You know what con he’s talking about and Kara from Econ lives near there. You could probably convince her to meet up. Hm, that might work. 

Just like you told him, you’ll have to think about it. 

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

Are You Sure?! Episode 4 observations

8.5/10 ☆

When will Army cancel Jimin and Jungkook? When will ot7 jikookers and vminers and vminkookers make call out posts for them? Jimin and Jungkook should express that all encompassing love for the entire members of their group all the time. Pointing out throughout the entire first day that Tedros is their guest or that they he should leave if he doesn't like it, that he's looking for attention or that AYS is their show, not for other people, was giving mean girls behavior. How is that nice? They love their guest but they're shading him. I think we should totally cancel Jikook!

But how the tables have turned once the kid that tagged along went to bed and the adults could play. Oh, we were back to Connecticut vibes once again. Which are basically the usual jikook vibes in where every little game needs to have a hint of flirtation (I wonder what Jimin would have done if Jungkook wouldn't have warned him about the glass part in the pool? Jimin was in slytherin mode the minute he took off his clothes).

From enganging in intricate rituals to touch each other (as always) to go through a long negotation over eating ramyeon or not (what's ppeuriri got to do with everything? I love their inside jokes and hate them at the same time. Let me in!!!! I was waiting for the bj brothers and when they deliver even some innuendos, it riles me up).

I'm not a BL fan of regular watcher, but this looks like the beginning of one of those steamy scenes where they show them fuck on some balcony or in the pool. Just sayin'.

Say yes and eat the damn ramyeon, Jungkook!

I like Jikook's nighttime routines. Although so far they have been quite tame, no drinking or other shenanigans. They do teeth brushing yoga or they cuddle up and talk about work and their schedules before bed. And there's no bed without Jimin's legs all over Jungkook (I'm sure he must be dreaming of those thighs at this point).

Can it get more domestic than Jungkook talking to his mother and her already knowing about their schedule?

I have a feeling she and Jimin text each other regularly. Oh, if only they had filmed just a bit during their Chuseok weekend in Busan (I do assume Jimin went too, but 🤷‍♀️). I need to see Jimin with Jungkook's mother. She would dot on him and Jimin would be so respectful but shy and oh, I get all giddy just thinking about him. Busan boys, please visit your home town one day and share that with the world!

I refuse to accept the existence of Jimkook, sounds ugly, forced, it doesn't roll off the tongue. But Jikook? Yeah, that works. And they were in full jikook mode on the boat. That embarrassing CPR manouver by Jimin is yet another sign that they will remain that cringe couple. How did Tedros survive on that boat? No wonder he took a step back from all that up until the end.

The entire afternoon on the boat really gave us a glimpse into their original plans and how once again, they just click. They never push it, they want to do the same things and they have fun. And we still got the cuddle and drawing whales out of clouds without that moment turning into something else.

When Jimin is in top shape, without any other illness looming over their vacation, then we know we're in for some entertainment. He's much more engaging and laughs at everything while Jungkook is right there next to him, ready to joint whatever Jimin wants to do.

(Who would have thought that Tedros headbanging the first day would make him take a step back and allow them to do their own thing how they originally planned? I have lots to say about him, but for another post, there's too many nice things that happened and I focus on that at first)

And now, a few more highlights:

What is this? Cutie Jiminie who can also get angry while stuffing his face with rice and noodles and chicken all at the same time? You are what you eat. Or whom 🤭

Jungkook has always been an expert at such lines, how can Jimin still be surprised after a decade? That's what you get. You have the tattoed guy who's really into bikes and Jimin who is clearly into all that, but he's gotta take the lame lines too.

[notjustjavierpena]

Mouthful

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Made with the help from my loveliest @strang3lov3 with a talk about men conking out after cumming and how Hubby Javier still hasn’t gotten his dick sucked. So to all the girlies who want to give your fictional husband a blowjob, this one is for you.

Summary: Javier is starting to come down with the flu but he just simply won’t lie down to have some rest. You have a trick that never fails.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, husband!javier, domestic life, sickfic, Inés is a menace, Javier is a stubborn man, ❤️ JAVIER HAS A DAD BOD!!!!!!! ❤️, blowjob, deep-throating, mouth-fucking, praise, dirty talk, cum-swallowing,

Word count: 2.8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52856839

Mouthful

You hear the clink of plates being lifted out of the dishwasher, the sound of Sebastian crying, stuttering sobs as he is bounced, and Inés going on about something that happened in preschool. Javier is barely listening, replying with half-sentences that seem to make his daughter more frustrated with her father not paying attention and eventually leading to her talking louder. 

The idea of what will meet you in the kitchen is enough to make you want to flee to the bedroom, enough to make you want to pretend that you haven’t heard them during an extended nap. However, you could never bring yourself to let Javier go through the hell of late afternoons with children alone.

“Look who’s up,” he says with a desperate smile as you enter the room, twisting his whole body to make his crying son spot his mother. As soon as Sebastian’s eyes gaze upon you, his wails die down and they stop completely the moment you take him from Javier’s arms. 

“Mom! Guess what happened today at school,” Inés interrupts just as you are about to say something. She speaks loudly, and you automatically reach up to cover Sebastian’s ear that isn’t pressed into your shoulder. 

“Inés, indoor voices,” Javier finally manages to say, reaching up to rub his temples, “Shhh…”

“Sorry,” she makes a face, not completely convinced. 

“What happened at school?” You ask but instead of looking at her, you find yourself staring at your husband who looks like absolute hell, glassy eyes and exhaustion radiating from him. Inés giggles as she tells a joke that isn’t really a joke, too lost in her story to notice that you aren’t really listening. 

Javier places a hand on the kitchen table, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. His shirt is crumpled, his eyes have dark circles and you don’t actually think that he has even noticed that he is sniffling every other moment. He sighs deeply, breathing mostly through his mouth as he does it, and then goes back to emptying the dishwasher.

“Are you okay, honey?” You ask him, stopping midway to shush Inés who doesn’t look pleased, “You look under the weather. Are you feeling okay?” 

There’s an almost offended nature in Javier’s reply. He doesn’t stop what he is doing, sorting through the cutlery, “What? No, yeah. Estoy bien, mi amor (I’m fine, my love). Just need to get this done.”

“And then what?” You ask with a raised eyebrow. 

“And then I’ll get started on dinner,” he tells you with a tired smile that isn’t very convincing. 

“You look like… m i e r d a (shit), and you probably feel it too. I was sick last week,” you spell out the dirty word, using the Spanish word because the English is short enough to make Inés guess what you are saying. 

“Mom,” Inés predictably complains. 

“I’m fine. I just need 20 minutes where no one comes near me,” he says with exasperation. He finishes up the bottom drawer of the dishwasher and goes to pull out the top one. You find yourself laying a hand on top of his, stopping him in his tracks.

“Javi,” you say softly. 

“What?” He grumbles.

“I can finish up here. I’ll cook dinner,” you tread lightly, knowing that he hates being babied by you. Him not pulling his weight is a common fight that the two of you have had, and he probably feels on edge when you ask him not to help out with the kids. 

“I can do it,” he snaps but suddenly sneezes, and it ends up making his nose prickle enough to cause his eyes to water. 

“Go do something else, laundry maybe. I’ll do this,” you say a little more firmly, strategically sending him to your bedroom to make him spot your bed and have some well-earned rest, “It’s really not a problem, and you know I hate doing laundry anyway.”

“Fine,” he holds his hands up in surrender. 

“I love you,” you say in a sing-song voice as he leaves the kitchen, “Go have your 20 minutes.”

Inés looks longingly after her father but you manage to distract her with a snack before she runs after him. You run your free hand over her hair as she eats a peanut butter sandwich, Sebastian cooing happily on your hip as he has been allowed to chew on a banana.

“Do you want to watch cartoons before dinner?” You ask, “Give Mommy some time to get things done in the kitchen, and then I can hear all about school while we eat?”

“Fine,” she parrots her dad, holding up her hands as well and running off to the living room. You follow her, setting Sebastian down in his playpen and turning on the baby monitor. Then you turn on the TV, adjust the volume, and let Inés busy herself by singing along to her favorite theme song. 

You finish emptying the dishwasher, cut vegetables, and throw them into the slow cooker with other ingredients, and after you check on both of your kids, you realize there’s some spare time before you have to pick Lucas up from his play date. 

You decide to go upstairs to do another round of laundry, but when you cannot find the laundry basket, you go to your bedroom. Javier must have taken it when folding clothes. 

“Jesus, why are you not resting? I sent you here so you’d eventually nap,” you groan as you enter the bedroom and see Javier putting his shirts on hangers. 

“I told you I’m fine,” he seems even more sick at this point, nose slightly congested and causing him to speak nasally, “I can do this.”

You walk up to him to yank a clothing hanger out of his hands and throw it onto the floor, receiving a glare in response. Javier doesn’t look pleased with your behavior, but you don’t find his stubborn attitude charming either. 

“Javier F. Peña,” you tut, “Just go lie down and trust that your wife has everything under control. It’s what a lot of husbands do, you know.”

“Well, wife, I don’t need your permission to do housework,” he tries to push past you but you catch him in a disarming embrace, giggling as he tries bending down to pick you up so he can move you out of his way. You avoid his efforts, catching him by the wrists when he straightens once more, and push him back towards the bed. 

“You need rest, husband,” you shove him when the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed, and he lets himself fall down into the mattress, bouncing slightly as it connects with his back. 

“I don’t need a nap, I’m not a child,” he groans dramatically. 

“Then stop acting like one,” you pull the baby monitor out of your pocket and place it on the nightstand. When Javier tries to sit up again, you snap your fingers and point at him, “Nuh-uh, lie down.” 

It makes you realize that you need to use alternative methods to get him to obey; he simply won’t do as he has been told, and if anyone is ever in doubt about where Inés gets her stubbornness from, you’ll simply glance over at her father to answer the question. 

“What if I treat you to something special?” You ask with a little smirk, moving to the end of the bed so you can proceed to crawl onto him. You sit on his legs, “Think that’ll make you relax?”

You already know the answer to that question. He looks ready to conk out. 

“I’m actually fine, I don’t need—“

“I know, Javi,” you reply. Your fingers find his crumpled shirt and you pull it out of his jeans, shoving it up over his stomach so you can access his belt, watching your husband twitch underneath you at the sound of the buckle clinking as you undo it. 

He lifts his head to watch as you tug down his jeans and underwear, “Just so you know, I’m not sleeping after this. I have to—“

“I know, Javi,” you repeat, bending down to nuzzle your nose against his soft stomach. His cock lays flaccid against his thigh, but you pull it out from underneath the waistband of his briefs to lay it against his tummy so you can skim your palm up and down the shaft. His soft cock slowly comes alive underneath your touch, and soon you can wrap your fist around him to stroke him till he stands completely erect. 

Below you, Javier groans when you press a kiss to his belly, “And I have to get the laundry done.” 

“Whatever you say, baby, let me take care of you and I’ll let you do as much laundry as you want,” you hum against his skin, relishing in his warmth and his so-called dad-body - the last year has blessed you with Javier getting a little softer to the touch - that you nuzzle up to at every opportunity you get. 

Javier isn’t a fan of himself growing soft around the middle but you savor it every time you get to see that bit of pudge strain against his usual jeans (which he refuses to buy in a bigger size). If you thought he was gorgeous when his muscles were toned and his body looked younger, you had not been prepared for how good he looks now that he is older, rounder, and getting comfortable. His arms are still deliciously strong; an overwhelmingly sexy result of still carrying Inés around everywhere, picking her up from the ground if she has a tantrum at the grocery store. 

“God, you’re so sexy,” you pinch his stomach to earn a little noise. Javier says your name in disapproval but you just look up at him with a smile, grabbing more of his pudge before biting into it and kissing it afterward, “Let your wife have her fun.”

Javier is just about to say something - you don’t know whether it is about his body, the lack of a blowjob, or laundry once more - but you know it’s more complaining and so you cut him off by running the flat of your tongue from base to tip of his cock. He tastes like salt. If you had the time, you would not finish until his scent and taste were everywhere on you. In your clothes, etched into your skin, and on your tongue. 

“Oh shi—“ he gasps, resting the back of his head on the mattress once more. He breathes deeply in through his mouth, nose still stuffed, and stares at the ceiling as you work your tongue up and down his shaft only to follow the wet trail with your nose.

When you reach his cockhead a third time, you suckle on the very tip to rid him of the pearl of precome that has accumulated at the slit and is threatening to slide down (you want to treat yourself to it before it does). Above you, Javier moans at feeling your mouth, not your tongue, properly for the first time. 

“Fucking hell, baby, gotta admit that I didn’t see this coming,” he half-chuckles, half-groans.

“Maybe I just wanted to shut you up for a moment. You are stubborn, you know,” you pull back to talk, look up at him, and nuzzle needily at his cock. He looks down at you but you simply smile, “I looove you for that though, not annoying at all.”

You follow your little snarky remark up with a press of your lips to the underside of his shaft, using a hot open-mouthed kiss to cut off whatever offense he might take from your teasing. He doesn’t even seem to register it after feeling your mouth on himself again. 

Then you let saliva gather in your mouth before spitting directly onto the head, using your hand to smear it down his length by stroking him a few times. You lean over him and bring your mouth down over his girth, no teasing or anything, until the thick head hits the back of your mouth. 

“Fuuuck, and then up again,” he groans, a strong hand reaching for whatever he can grab of you. His fingers curl around your shoulder, moving inwards until they dig into the back of your neck. Slowly, you drag your lips all the way off of him again. 

Javier makes a sound when you pull off but it quickly turns into a whimper as you let more saliva drip down. You smear this too, swirling your sinful tongue around the tip and occasionally licking like were you eating a popsicle on a summer’s day. 

You can feel him pulse against your lips, so you show mercy and let him into your mouth again. He is hot and heavy on your tongue and a moaning mess above you, nails starting to dig into your skin. 

You start bobbing your head, hand on the base of Javier’s cock to hold his generous size in place. When he bumps against your throat for the first time and thus makes you gag the first time, he lets out a sound that you can never get enough of and it causes your cunt to throb between your legs. 

“Who would think that a pretty girl sucks cock like that? Oh, fuck… I love you, just like that—” he talks in a way that makes you think he might not even be aware of what he is saying but is simply letting his mouth run, “Suck that cock, baby. Good fucking girl, married the right one, didn’t I?”

You hum in reply and he growls at the vibrations of your voice. The pride you feel is indescribable, and so you seek out his approval once again by moaning as you taste him. Even if it results in your eyelashes dampening from Javier pushing his hips upwards, you lean further down and force yourself to relax your throat. 

He slides into the tight space at the back of your throat and his hand flies to the top of your head. He fists your hair desperately when you gulp around him and make your throat spasm, tugging at your follicles to the point where tears slide down your face. Soon, they also mix with the spit coating his cock.

You swallow around him again. Javier holds your head with both hands now, “Can I - Christ - can I fuck this gorgeous mouth? Por favor (please), baby.”

Even if it is hurting a little, you nod the best you can because Javier’s groan as he starts thrusting his hips upward is worth any ache in your body. Your thighs flutter, your clit pulses. 

Both his hands gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail. He uses it to move your head as he pleases, makes you bob on his dick until you gag wetly with every other thrust of his hips. Every time he bucks his hips, his thigh muscles flex and your nose buries itself in his happy trail. 

“You gonna take it?” He rasps, chest heaving. He is nearly there, muscles in his whole body twitching as he slowly loses control over himself when pleasure is so close. The next thrusts are maddening and you can’t blink any tears away even if you tried, “Fuck, swallow, baby. Take my come.”

You look up at him through your wet lashes and hum a mhm, confirming. Yes, yes, yes, give it to me.

You know he is peaking when his breath stops. He holds it during the last thrusts, finally letting out a loud moan as he finishes and sucks in a deep breath afterward. 

His cock spurts in the next moment. You can feel it hit the back of your sore throat, warm and salty, in several pulses and automatically, you swallow hungrily around his girth. The action makes him groan weakly and his hips stutter until he finally needs to let go of you. His arms lie flat along his side.

“Holy fuck, baby,” he sighs contentedly when you pull off, “Fuck, I don’t even know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything, Daddy,” you tease, and then you treat the sensitive head of his cock to a few innocent kitten-licks, essentially cleaning him up until he softens. 

He whimpers when it becomes too much, and so you pull off to kiss him along his stomach. You can hear his breathing changing, turning into something less erratic. 

“You okay?” You eventually ask but receive no reply. You look up. 

As predicted, Javier snores. You smile to yourself as you push yourself away from him, careful not to wake him up as you pull his briefs and jeans up again, leaving the latter unbuttoned. 

“Javier Peña, the most stubborn man on the planet has a weakness,” you whisper and shake your head with a fond smile. 

You grab the baby monitor from the nightstand and leave him to sleep, knowing he’ll wake up feeling a lot more sick and, hopefully, a lot more cooperative. You bring him a glass of water and some Tylenol to wake up to, write a note for him about how much you adore him, and that you’ll take care of everything. He needs it. 

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about Logan adjusting to this new timeline, becoming sober, and Wade somehow finding Logan's dog tags. ~4k words.

(Tw: Logan's a depressed recovering alcoholic with survivor guilt, unofficial proposal, canon usual implied sex jokes, Logan tries to flirt but fails)

To my wife. Who's halo lit up my dark life to see just how many doors were available to me when I couldn't see them myself<3

He offers him his to wear as a cutesie matching necklace type of thing but Logan is hesitant to take them, scared of what will come of it. He does it anyway though because he sees how happy Wade is wearing his.

What he refuses to tell him though is that just hearing the tags jingle makes him jump, flinch, his heart rate rises, and his mind floods with scenes he's worked so hard draining every bar he could find dry just so he could forget.

For me, I, too, am a man with deeply rooted animal instincts and was raised to behave like an obedient pet instead of the animal they made me.

An animal trained to take orders. A soldier without his post is miserable and constantly is either trying to find it again or defend himself from ever having to go back to a post to begin with.

You aren't good enough for them if you obey what they say and excel past the standards. But you aren't good enough if you question their authority and make choices for yourself either. Hoizer comes to mind.

Running with the bulls

Working my miracles

Holding my world together with a boot string

His night terrors are worse, more frequent, constantly a battle between wanting to protect and defend the less fortunate to saying, 'No, I'm done with that. It's none of my business, It’s someone else's problem now.'

He wakes up screaming, claws drawn, every possible sense he has to run activated, panting, gasping almost for air. He's panting, heaving deep but quick breaths, all of the hairs on his arms raised like a cat who just heard a dog barking after having gotten attacked as a kitten.

Living the dream

Benzos and gasoline

Coffee and blue light screens till the morning

He wakes to the sunlight in his face, gets up, stretches, takes his Valium. Eats some toast, calls it breakfast, gets dressed for his weekly AA meeting. The moment he steps inside it smells like Gasoline. Sweet honey scented lies that he hates to admit that he knew all too well. ‘It was only one’ ‘I asked for a virgin one but they brought me the wrong one’ ‘I'm trying, I really am..it's just.. hard’ He's heard them all before but the last one he could relate to the most.

Coming home at night, Logan puts his face into the back of his partner's neck, hugging him from behind as he offers to watch a cowboy movie marathon with him. He barely eats, only taking what Wade gives him or shoves in his mouth like the now spilled popcorn that was all over the ground, His boyfriend sprawled out on the couch while the “Dvd” bounces back and forth on the blue screen.

Wade never likes it but recently he's been drinking coffee at night, pacing back and forth as he searched online for a job. Kept himself far from the nightmares that were trying to catch up with him.

If I tell you this is drowning

You tell me I'm walking on water

I could bring fire from the mountain

You tell me it feels a little colder

Everyone was telling him how good he was doing, how well he was adjusting, how happy they were that he was here and yet.. He didn't feel like he deserved it. Any of it. Not the second chance, not the love and support of all his new family, not the affection from the man who whispered how proud of him he was each night..

It doesn't help his mental status when multiple jobs reject him either. Interviews don't exactly go that well when you have claws for hands and a reputation for having a temper.

“I'm sorry we're looking for someone with more… experience.. in this field. You need an entry level job.”

“Woah dude! You are WAY too qualified to be working here! you should try looking for something higher up, yeah?”

“I'm sorry. You're too much of a liability.”

“Oh my god- You're the Wolverine!”

“Yes.. but uhm.. No.. I'm just Logan now.”

“Wait, why are you applying here? This is a cashier position.”

“I'm aware..”

“Aren't you like… an X-men?”

“N-no… not anymore.”

“Oh… Did they fire you?”

“I quit.”

“Why?”

“Are.. these questions part of the interview?”

What kind of man was he if he couldn't even get a damn job at McDonald's? It felt useless. Like everybody wanted something different from him, but no one was happy either way. Never pleased with his resume or his reputation. You would think being an ex X-man would make it easy. Of course someone would want to hire a superhero? Right? Wrong.

I don't wanna

Choose between being a salesman or a soldier

Just let me look a little older

It seemed everyone wanted him to rejoin the X-men and as much as he missed that mansion upstate, it wasn't his. So many times he's been told stories about himself that he didn't even remember …well.. because it wasn't him. They wanted The Wolverine.

Their Wolverine.

Not Logan.

There was always that spot at the dealership with Peter. Now that Wade was back on his role with mercenary stuff and doing more “Favors” with Colossus, Negasonic and Yukio, that position was open. Part of him- No. Scratch that. All of him was happy for Wade. He seemed to be enjoying life so much more now that he felt he had purpose. But what was his purpose? Selling cars?? Definitely not. Even if it was, they were looking for something else anyway.

“It says here that you are 286 years old. Is that a typo?”

“Oh- uhm… No..”

“I see…Well we are currently looking for someone… younger.. to fill that spot. Sorry.”

But they were never actually sorry. He could smell it.

Coming home from the failed hunt, he felt like an older lion losing its pride to a younger male lion. Well- if lions could develop arthritis in their knees and hands. Once a day he'd pop out his claws, just to keep them ready though he felt like he hadn't used them in such a long time… Maybe he really was turning into an old house cat like wade said.

Sitting in their shared bedroom, he was grumbling to himself, grunting as he tried to get his claw unstuck. This wasn't the first time they locked up and he feared it wasn't the last either.

He snapped his head up at the sound of tags. Around the corner came who he expected, Wade, quickly hiding his hand under the blanket. Coming in, his eyes widened.

“Woah wolvie! Without me? Really? I would have gladly done it for you.”

At first Logan wanted to thank him for offering to help before quickly realizing that from how his hand was under the blanket, it did look suspiciously like adult alone time.

“T-that's not… no.”

“M'kaay. If you say sooo~”

“H-how uhm.. How was work?”

Watching as he began to grab shower clothes and take off his mask, He smiled.

“Oh you know! Watching the life drain from peoples eyes and what not as they beg for their life! The usual.”

“Oh.. that's.. fun?”

“Extremely liberating stuff.”

Watching as he began to strip, He swallowed, wishing he'd leave already so he could finish shoving the claw back into his skin.

Let me step a little bolder

I don't wanna

Choose between being a butcher or a pauper

“You wanna take a shower with me?” He asked, Beginning to walk around butt naked in nothing but his tags.

“U-uhm… No. No thanks, I had one this morning.”

“D'awwww what? Worried i'll see your peanuts? News flash baby, I've had those things down my throat! And I will say. They're better salty anyways~”

All this teasing changed his monotone face into a small goofy smile as he came close, crawling up into his lap, taking hold of his cheeks as he kissed his nose.

“What's wrong? Did you not get the job?”

He was so envious of how he could say such dirty things. Wade was so confident and yet so shy about his face. It made him think of when he was that confident in himself too. (Probably overly confident if we're being honest) Oh that was so many years ago… he'd never get that back. And honestly? He wasn't sure if he wanted to.

Logan said nothing but it was all the answer wade needed.

“I see. Well you'll get’em next time, Right?”

He looked away. Ashamed. Here Wade was, being overly supportive, giving him everything, and still he couldn't find a single happy bone in his body.

Shifting his leg to reassure him more, His knee was placed on the claw, yipping. “Ouch!”

“Sorry! I… I can't.. i-it won't..”

And on top of all that, he just hurt him. Man he sucked at this. All of it. Every little bit of it.

Pulling his hand away, Logan's eyes looked over Wade just as quick as it happened, Trying to see if he was bleeding only to jolt.

“Hey- shh.. Calm down. You're alright.” Grabbing his wrist, he carefully moved the tags that had gotten stuck on the claw.

“What's got you all riled up, Kitty? The interview couldn't have been that bad.”

But what he didn't know is that it WAS that bad.

Instantly Logan broke down, breaking heavily as he began to sob, gritting his teeth as he put his non-stuck hand on his face, wanting to hide. He felt pathetic. Useless. Weak. All of the things he fought not to be.

“Ooh, Honey come her-” Wade reached a hand out, trying to console him only to be shoved away.

“Don't!! I-.. I'm tired of hurting people! That's not who I want to be!”

“Baby cakes, it was an accident-”

“No!! Eveyone wants the Wolverine until the fucking wolverine is actually acting like the Wolverine!” He shouted, trying not to choke on his own tears.

Tilting his head, Wade blinked as if he wasn't aware of what he was talking about, but why would he? Logan hasn't told him anything negative for the past 2 weeks. Keeping it all bottled up, trying to push it deep down but that wasn't him. He couldn't handle it anymore.

“Everyone just keeps saying I should join the X-men again and i-” Wilson put his hands on his shoulders, looking at him with the most serious he has ever been in his entire life.

“Logan, If that's what you want we'll make it work. It's only an hour drive, and i'm sure I could visi-”

“Wade!! Shut. Up! I don't…” He trailed off, shaking his head as he began to apologize, whispering he was sorry for yelling at him.

“I-it's not your fault.. I.. I don't..”

Wade was patient, Nodding, encouraging him to open up with his words. He knew when it was time to zip it and let him talk. Now was one of those times. It was his turn to listen.

“I don't want to fight anymore. I didn't want to fight to begin with but… It's the only thing I'm good at. I'm not good at anything else.. My whole life I've just been jumping team after team and they all eventually die or I just get kicked out for not understanding the power of team work or whatever. Hell, I've been through three different wars and every single time I ran away! Like a damn dog with its tail between its legs! All except the times I was TOLD to run and I didn't. Fuck, Wade! 3 fucking wars and I can't even take orders right!!”

Honey, I'm taking no orders

Gonna be nobody’s soldier

It was now Wade's turn to try to stifle a laugh, snorting as he covered his mouth.

“What's so fucking funny?! That your boyfriend is a sad pathetic loser who can't even get his hands to listen to him!?”

Now he burst out laughing, starting to giggle.

“You're over here talking about not being able to take orders and not being good enough for a team while talking to the same guy who can't even GET on a team and was kicked out of Canadian special forces because I didn't listen to a single thing they said! And you think I care if you ‘can't take orders’ ??” He said this last part in a mocking tone, trying hard to be serious but couldn't.

Logan's eyebrows scrunched with a skeptical glare, tears still dripping down his face, feeling embarrassed and stupid.

Cupping his face again, Wade smiled ear to ear, their foreheads together. “You're much dumber than the comics make you out to be if you think I'd care about anything like that. You honestly think I'd care if you don't want to be anyone's soldier? Why do you think I'm my own boss? The world isn't built for guys like us, baby. And if you wanna open a coffee shop or- pursue your dreams of photography, or hell! Even bird watching for all I care, I will still love you. We will make it work. No matter what you choose to do. Even if you don't get a job at all. Do you understand?”

The man started into his eyes, seemingly frozen as he processed all that he said.

“Logan..”

“Hm?”

“You gotta nod hon, we've talked about this.”

Slowly nodding, indicating that he understood, the tears got thicker as he pulled himself into Wade's shoulder, sobbing more.

“Oooh There there… There's my big strong man..” Wrapping his arms around him, he was careful of the single knife still out. Sitting him up, he rubbed the side of his face as he kissed the other cheek, only to gasp.

“GAASSSPP!! Peanut!”

“What!?” His grip tightened around his waist as he looked around urgently, immediately sniffling and starting to wipe his eyes.

“You're getting greys!” He coed, reaching up to pluck a single gray hair from the beast, who flinched. “Ouch..”

Leaning back, Wade held the hair in front of his face, His smile still wider than ever.

“You're turning into A silver fox, wolvie!”

“W-what?”

“Ooh I bet you're gonna be so handsome! Eehh!” Hugging him again, tight around his neck.

Blushing, He wasn't sure what had just happened. How him venting and crying out of the rage he felt to Wade fangirling over one of his single hairs.. though.. I guess it made sense for your bald boyfriend to monitor yours. Wade has even made him start using a fancy shampoo that made his hair a lot softer, curlier, and Less greasy.

“.. you..You're excited that i'm getting old..??”

“Duh! I've always wanted to be a hot silver daddy's sugar baby!”

“What does that even mean?”

“Don't worry about it- Oh hey look! Your claw went back in.”

Looking at his hand, he made a fist and opened it a couple of times, blinking, oblivious. “...How did you do that?”

But what he didn't realize is that the stress was flowing out of him, and the relief that Wade seemed to be obsessed with him no matter what had calmed him down enough for it to slide back in itself.

“I didn't do anything, sweetheart. You opened up. Let it out. All that stress isn't good for you, you know. How do you think I ended up looking like this?” He joked, giggling.

For some reason, He laughed too, finding this a bit funny.

“Do you feel better? Hm?”

“Nngh..”

“I'll take that as a yes.” The naked man whispers, kissing him with his arms lazily on his shoulders, glad that he was able to cry in front of him. Twas a very manly thing to do and there was no one more manly than the Wolverine himself.

“Alright. I'm gonna go shower. I stink worse than you do after being out in the rain.” You know, wet dog and all. Pulling away, there was a clang and a tug at both of their necks, the tags becoming stuck together, making wade smirk more. “I think these tags don't want me to go.”

Quickly frowning, Logan swallowed, moving to take his off, pulling up his hand as he held it, putting the tag inside of it, closing his fingers.

“Wha..I-... what are you doing?”

“Wade.. I..” He sighs, looking away with a nervous pout, Grunting a bit from frustration. Why did words have to be so difficult?

“Are you breaking up with me?!”

“What!? No! I-.. I don't..”

See what Logan didn't know was that Wade had viewed these as promise rings, the equivalent of engagement even but he was okay with never actually getting married. As long as he got to wear the dress in his closet and dance with him he wouldn't mind if it was legal or not. He understood fully that not everyone wanted to marry the stage 4 cancer patient whose skin looked like turkey bacon that was somehow raw and burnt at the same time.

“You don't what? Do you.. want something else? We can get rings! Do you want rings?” shifting to sit closer to him, Wade was obviously becoming upset about this, untangling the tags and looking at him with those big brown puppy eyes.

“Rings…?”

He could see the gears in his head trying their best to turn as he thought what he meant.

“How would we make them into rings?” He finally asks and to Wade, this was basically a proposal.

Sitting up more he began clapping excitedly the same way he did when seeing puppins again about 8 months ago. “Eeh!! Yes!!”

His head turns, Giggling. “I would've taken it in front of the subway like Sanda Bullock but this works too!”

Logan, like a dumb ass, looked too, knowing full well he wouldn't see anyone but still always looked anyway. “Who??”

“Oh I'll show you later! What size are you?”

“In rings?”

“No, your cock, Of course in rings!”

“Hey now- I never agreed to a cock ring, Wade. No.”

The serious tone and the way he pointed his finger at him made him laugh more, taking his hand as he kissed it. “We'll figure it out. Okay so after my shower, I'll call a guy I know. I think Forge would do a much better job but I feel like he'd say no.” He began rambling about how cute they would be and how excited he was, climbing off of his lap (finally) and started to walk off.

“W-wade!” He called, swallowing again, nervous to ask him to listen.

“What? You wanna come shower?”

“No- well.. maybe but..”

Again he waited, rocking back and forth on his heels, trying his best to be patient but it was hard not talking for 0.5 seconds.

“It's not that.. I don't like them. It's just.. I got those a long long time ago.. and I don't want to be the man those belonged to. Not anymore. And it's not that I don't think about rejoining all the time, it's just.. I want to live my life the way I want too. Charles always said that at the end, we'd get to live how we deserve. That's my time. My time is now. I want to sit on a porch somewhere out west and watch the horses graze. I wanna sit around doing nothing with Puppins in my arms. I want… I want to be with.. with you.”

He admitted, and for once Wade was the one speechless.

“I don't want you to visit. I want to live with you. But not here. I want to go somewhere quieter. Somewhere I can just be.. Logan..”

Putting a hand on his chest as he explained, he didn't see his smile move, not a smidge, watching as he bit his lip and covered his mouth trying to stay quiet until he was done.

“Of course I still want to help people though! Protect them from other worse people… I'm just tired of being someone's toy soldier all the time. I want to do what I think is right but.. also have time to listen to you sing when cooking and take Puppins to the dog park. I want to protect..Us.” Yeah. That felt right. Us. Both of them, all of them. Together. His family.

“B-besides.. If I became an X-men again I don't think I could do it. I could barely sleep back then thinking about all the screams.. the people I couldn't help. I don't think I would be able to get over the fact that I can't save everyone… But I definitely want to try to at least save a few people. Take care of them… all of them. Even if they don't think they need help.” He smiled a bit, taking a huge breath as the stress was relieved from his shoulders.

“Alright you can talk now because I'm never doing that ever again, that was super embarrassing.” He muttered, flushed as he looked down at his lap.

The second he gave him permission to speak, Wade screamed, a scream that made Logan's eyes widen and look at him with a slow blink. “....what was tha-”

Immediately he was pulled up from the bed, picked up and squeezed tightly as he jumped around. Grunting some, he held on tight, feeling a little nauseous. Sometimes it was easy to forget how strong he was.

Still screaming, Wade was extremely excited about all that was just said, Logan admitting that he wanted a serious future with him was a lot better news than he could have ever wished for.

“Put me down!... Wade!... I'm gonna throw up!” He said, whining that he was given uppies non consensually. Even he couldn't help but laugh though in response to his giggles. God that laugh was so annoying and yet his world would feel pointless without it.

Putting him down, Wilson grabs his cheeks, petting his beard. “Ooh Logan.. I don't need protection.. because I can't get pregnant. But if I ever find out that I can, I'll definitely hire you.” He jokes, causing more blushes as his hand comes up to Wades, nuzzling into it for a moment.

“You know what I mean…”

“I do. And while I won't stop you, how about you be your own soldier for a bit? Tell yourself how to live. Not anyone else. And i'll be behind you, wearing a shirt with your ugly mug on it, supporting you the whole way. Got it?”

“Aye! I'm not ugly!”

“No you are not! I've barely been home for 20 minutes and am already so wet. I haven't even taken a shower yet “ he mumbles casually as he begins walking away.

“Heh.. Hey…erm Wade?”

“Yes, love?” Just about to leave the room, he turns, smiling gently at how talkative his fiancé was.

Logan blushes more. “I uhm.. If I'm nobody's soldier… can your name be nobody?”

Wade looks confused at first, now it's his turn to figure out what he was saying.

“Cause.. if your name is nobody then i'd be.. nevermind.” Waving A hand, he glanced at his shoes, stuffing his hands in his pocket having just fumbled that line completely.

Within seconds, Wade was back in that room, giving him the sloppiest, deepest kiss that was available, kissing him all over.

“Oh Logie! You're so sweet! But leave the flirting to me, mkay? I don't need you throwing your back out trying too hard.” He pats his chest, grabbing his hand as Wade drug him by the wrist.

They both laugh as they enter the bathroom, closing the door with a click.

[belliesy]

MINE. miguel o’hara x reader

✿ tags. afab reader, dubcon, exes to lovers, reader knows about miguel being spiderman, kinda guilt tripping, he not wearing his suit, porn with some plot, rough sex, degradation, blowjobs, deepthroating,face fucking, facials, squirting, full nelson, size difference, unprotected sex

✿ synopsis. miguel shows up to your apartment bruised and bloody and convinces you to help him // not proofread

You wake up to pounding on the door.

2:06 am

‘Who the hell is here at 2 in the morning?’

You curse at yourself as you roll out of bed, rubbing your eyes and shuffling through the living room to the door. The knocking slowly stops as the person on the other side must have heard you coming, you put your eye to the peep hole and see your ex. “Miguel?” You ask through the door, “baby, please let me in.” Miguel begs through the door. You roll your eyes and notice the blood and bruises littering your exes face, shaking your head you open the door slowly. Cursing at yourself again for so easily letting him in.

You step back as Miguels large frame enters, “Well?” You interrogate, “what do you want?”

“I just need you to help me.. y’know.” Miguel responds, he looks embarrassed but you know that he doesn’t really need the help. This is just another excuse to see you.

“Fine, sit on the couch.” You sigh, “Your leaving once I’m done”. Miguel nods as you get what you need and sits on the couch.

“There, all better” you say, crumpling the bandaid wrappers into your hand and throwing them onto the coffee table. “Thank you, baby” Miguel takes your hand and kisses the inside of it. You quickly pull it away from his lips.

“What?” Miguel asks innocently. “I’m being grateful for your help”. You roll your eyes and begin to stand up, “you can get out now”. Miguel grabs your arm, “wait, wait, I still need help with something”. Miguels eyes go to tent in his pants.

“No, Miguel, you can do that yourself, now leave.” You pull from his grab and stand up again, this time grabbing his arm and pulling him up. “Please, cariño, I know you miss me, how good I would fuck you.” Miguel steps closer to you, backing you into a wall, his knuckles drag across your face before going to your shoulder, pushing down.

You hate this and him. Hate how bad you miss him and how he fucked you, missed everything about his dick, how it felt in you, how good choking on it was like. You shame yourself on how easily your giving into everything. “Fine, this is never happening again though”. You lower yourself more to the point where your on your knees.

You unbuckle his pants and pull them and his boxers down enough to where his cock springs out. “Fuck, always looked so good on your knees for me.” Miguel grunts as your cold hand slowly starts stroking it. Your mouth goes to suck on his tip and Miguel flinches. “I could never find anyone as good as you,” he moans, “should have never let you go.”

You smirk to yourself and lower your mouth on him, moving your hand down to continue jerking him. Miguel is already moaning and whimpering for you, he feels hot in your mouth, he’s throbbing and probably almost ready to cum from the lack of sex in what feels like forever to him. You decide to tease him, your mouth comes off his dick with a pop. “Probably couldn’t cum from any other girl.” You look up innocently at him, “needed me? Missed me so much you had to come here?” you smile and watch as Miguels hips thrust into your hand. You look back at his cock and rub your thumb over the tip. “Don’t tease me, baby.” He moans throwing his head back. You begin to laugh before Miguel is grabbing your head and slamming you down on his dick.

You choke and your eyes water. You’ve missed how he fills your throat, fucking it like you were nothing. You moan and hum around it, driving him crazy and making his hips fuck your face faster.

“Don’t act like you don’t fuck yourself stupid thinking about me fucking your tight cunt, ah- you fucking, whore.” He looks down at your face, “but yeah, I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss you”. He pulls out of your mouth, still grabbing your hair and starts jerking himself off. You sit patiently and with your tongue out, waiting for him to spill all over you.

When Miguel cums he’s moaning and throwing his head back. His cum is warm and splashes your tongue and face, coating it a pretty white. He looks back down, watching you swallow what landed in your mouth. “Good girl, didn’t even need me to tell you”.

Miguel quickly pulls you up, flipping you around. He stands behind you and with no prep shoves it into your tight hole. “Mm, fuck, Miguel.. !” You cry out, “sorry, thought how wet you were would be enough.” He fakes sympathy and starts with slow lazy thrusts.

You throw your head back again as he lifts your hips, moving his arm under your knees, your legs bent. You face is hot with embarrassment as he pounds into your wide, spread legs. You feel so exposed but the angle his hips fuck into you feel so good. It already has you going stupid. “Missed this pussy so much,” Miguel grunts. You babbling too now, “I missed you so much, missed how good you fuck me, please don’t stop!” You cry, head thrown back into Miguels shoulder. “Don’t worry, princess, I’m gonna fill this pussy up”. He reassures while reaching deep inside of you.

You feel him move from hooking your legs under both arms to just one. He rubs your clit with his free arm, your screaming from how good it is. Your cunt throbs around him, making him mumble degrading comments to you. Making you grow wetter and so much closer to your climax.

Miguels thrusts stop and he buries himself into you, you feel his cum fill you up. His hand continues rubbing your clit and your soon squirting around him, squeezing him so tight. Your both moaning, overstimulated messes. Your body shakes and twitches, his cock is throbbing inside of you. He lets your legs down slowly, him still inside of you. His body is leaning on you, pushing your bodies against the wall to lean against as you catch you breathe.

Miguel wraps his hands around your waist. “So how about a date this weekend?”

notes - .. im so tired rn so this one was kinda lazy