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#It's all like inedible things too
soullessprism · 1 month
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I'm making a list of stuff I've eaten that I probably shouldn't, and I'm starting to get concerned by how long it's getting.
Just counted it, i'm almost to fifty. thats probably not good.
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monsteractialuna · 2 months
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The greatest question in Fnaf isn’t about the lore, it’s about what fucking flavors the moondrops and sundrops are.
Like I’ve seen people say moondrops taste like lavender because lavender is calming but it’s also not a very child friendly flavor, lavender is also hit or miss in adults (my mother and I LOATH lavender scents and flavors) so while it would be calming I feel like even with the sugar kids wouldn’t like it much. I’ve seen people suggest blueberry for it too, which would be a more child friendly flavor
Sundrops are pretty confidently considered to be citrus flavored since citrus is considered energizing and oranges are. Orange.
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deus-ex-mona · 11 months
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man.
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something midosena never prepared me for was just how comfortable the train seats are
#like. no joke. most (if not all) of them are soft!!!! carpeted!!!!! and comfy!!!!!!!!#and that’s just the regular seats!!!!! the special reserved seats are forward facing and!!!! they even have those little seat tray tables!!!#[insert home country]’s train seats are ruined for me now wtf i used to think that the wide new plastic seats were the best seats ever and—#and the structure of the train is p. great too ngl~~~~ like the seats are positioned a little ways back from the side divider thing#so there’s tons of standing space if you’re unlucky enough to not get a seat#but maybe that’s just my perspective bc the train cabins seem wider than [insert country]’s so maybe i’m too used to the cramped cabins idk#but g o d yes i understand you now midori the seat at the extreme end is the best most comfy seat ever fr#though!!!! another thing that made me 👁️👄👁️ about these trains is that!!!! eating and drinking (on trains) is not prohibited?????#like man. you’d get fined and get photographed + tabloidified in [insert country] if you did that here..#(if you get caught by some weird nitpicker who can’t mind their own business that is.)#but train exchanges are kinda complicated. ye a h. ig that’s one thing i miss about [insert country]’s trains. aside from the train fares.#m a n. train fares are so high here. bus fares too tbh. 170 yen for just two stops and all that..#but!!!! the seats are comfy so they get a pass from me~~~~~~~~~#the buses are tiny and cute thoughhhhh. but the boarding/alighting/fare system caught me off guard. ig i’m too spoiled by [insert country]#all things considered…. it was a really fun trip~~~~~ would’ve been better if i didn’t fall sick right off the bat though lmao#anyways!!!!!! happy kinyoubi my dudes~~~~~~~#inedible blubbering
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yngseung · 2 years
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yongseung fact of the day! he accidentally went one bus stop ahead of where he was supposed to get off, and had to walk to his shop. it was so hot he thought to himself ‘i’ll have to fend off this heat with bingsu!’ and then he got to the shop and it was nice and refreshing and cool. ‘i’ll fight off the heat w bingsu another day’ was his conclusion
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hedgehog-moss · 30 days
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The blueberry tart moral quandary has been very fun to ponder! Thank you for sharing it with us. I think the real question, however, is what each of your animals would think about ordering two slices of tart under the circumstances
You're right, that IS the true question here. Let's situate this in a universe where blueberry tart is safe & delicious to eat for all animal species.
CHICKENS. The chickens would definitely want that second helping of tart because chickens live in a solipsistic moral universe and would hesitate to share tart even if it was their dying sister's last wish. However if you place two slices of tart on the ground for 2 chickens, they will immediately and violently start fighting each other over the same slice, thus giving you the opportunity to discreetly retrieve the first slice for yourself. Moreover, if a chicken manages to break off half of the slice and starts running like hell to go eat it elsewhere in peace, the other chicken will take off after her instead of eating the other half happily by herself. If they then break this half in two while fighting over it, they will resume fighting over that half of the half, allowing you to retrieve 3/4 of the second slice. And so on. This is Zeno's paradox applied to chickens and tart: the hens will spend the rest of eternity fighting over diminishing crumbs while you get almost all of the second slice back (albeit broken in increasingly minuscule halves.)
CATS. Not only would the cats want that second slice regardless of who else wants it, they would also sit & start grooming themselves on the rest of the pie with great serenity, rendering it inedible for anyone else. However, my original post established that the pies were under large bell jars. Two of my three cats are (to their everlasting torment) stymied by this sadistic human invention. If the bell jar is heavy enough that you can't push it off the table (a popular strategy), then Mascarille and Merricat will just circle it a few times, ram their faces into the glass, do a full body swipe against it in case this might open a secret door, and then walk away in frustration. Morille on the other hand is a cat possessed of extreme patience, diabolical intelligence and acute interest in forbidden food. She will get the tart no matter how long she has to lie in wait.
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DOG. Pandolf would not want a second slice or even a first one, if he is made to understand that this might make other people sad. The thing with Pandolf is, he can smell disappointment. His great big nose picks up on every particle of human disappointment in the air and they go straight to his heart. He is also too polite to even defend his bone from thieving chickens. There's no way he would claim any tart at all unless someone gave it to him and made it clear they would be happy for him to eat it. However Pandolf is very cute when he sits there with a lolling tongue, happy for others to have a good time, and there is also no way one or several persons wouldn't give him their slice of tart. He would definitely end up with tart.
LLAMAS. Pampelune is the matriarch and since her duties involve dying to protect her herd in case of predator attacks, she considers it her prerogative to eat first and as much as she damn pleases in compensation. She would get two slices. I believe Poldine would choose to have only one slice and kiss everyone in the restaurant on the cheek for good measure, and I also believe she would actually get zero tart. As shown in the salt video, Poldine understands her place in the pasture hierarchy (the one who eats last) and has to resort to subterfuge to get even 1 lick of salt while others are gorging themselves. She will be very dependent on other people's temperance and decency to get any tart (so, Pandolf is her best bet.) Meanwhile Pampérigouste is trying to figure out how to escape the restaurant undetected to go on an adventure while the sheeple are talking about tart. She will get one or two or three slices but only if they can facilitate her various stratagems (for example, to bribe a guard at the door.)
The FISH—do not have the cognitive abilities to worry about morals but more importantly, do not experience soul-deep desires in the way the birds and mammals in this list do. My fish live in a smooth and quiet world where the gods make food rain from the sky every day. In this luminescent existence of untroubled abundance their capacity for longing has atrophied. They do not understand what wanting tart means, let alone the complex philosophical agonies humans can put themselves through when faced with culinary conundrums.
DONKEY. Pirlouit's first instinct would be to claim all the tart he can eat and then some. However donkeys and fish sit at opposite ends of the philosophical spectrum; Pirlouit strikes me as an animal who would be interested in exploring the ethical ramifications of the issue, as an intellectual exercise. 70% of his life consists in quiet deep ponderings. I think Pirlouit could get distracted ruminating the blueberry tart quandary in light of the rich philosophical heritage of donkey civilisation, and arrive too late to get any tart by the time he determined whether one or two slices is the right answer. Kind of like that time he got distracted by his need for revenge and was late for breakfast and the llamas had already claimed the hay.
IN CONCLUSION.
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vivwritesfics · 14 days
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CAN WE PLEASE GET A MOON PROPOSAL OR RING BEARER?! 🦝 ~nurse-sainz
Ofc pookie (I turned it into hcs though I'm sorry
(Tagging you so you get the notif that I finally answered lmao @nurse-sainz )
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One of the first things they had taught moon was how to hold things
Well they kind of had to
He learnt what his lil fingers could do and ran with it
Like literally picked stuff up and ran with it
And then tried to eat it (most of it was inedible)
So, they taught him to hold stuff
Which was how Logan found himself in this situation
Moon loved his dad
Nightly snuggles with his parents and all that
But he didn't listen to logan
No matter what trick logan tried to get moon to do, he'd only do it if his mum was asking
Logan held the ring out to moon
"You gotta promise me, buddy," he said as moon wrapped his little raccoon hands around the ring
And then he tried to put it in his mouth
"Moon, no!" Logan tried, taking it off of him and trying again
It took several tries
On the final try (final because Moon didn't try to eat it), Logan called his girl in
He kept Moon behind him, the ring hidden from view (not hidden from view, he was too fat for that)
"Baby," Logan said to her, "I've got a real important question"
He stepped to the side
Immediately she was on her knees, clicking her tongue
On all fours, Moon went running towards his mum
Without the ring
"Hello my little man," he said and picked him up
It took Logan a minute to realise Moon was no longer holding the ring
"Fuck, no, no, no!" Logan cried as he turned to look for the ring
On all fours
Searching for it
But it wasn't on the floor, was it
No, it was in Moons stomach
Standing up, Logan looked at that little demon
"Baby, don't hate me," he began
She furrowed her brows
"We need to go to the vet"
She questioned it in the car with Moon on her lap
With a red blush logan explained
And called moon a demon
Which he was forced to take back
"What do you say?" He asked in the waiting room of the vets office
She was still glaring at her boyfriend
How could he let their sweet precious baby eat a ring?
Sweet little moon (who the receptionist loved)
"Logie, honey, you let our Baby eat something inedible and I'm really mad right now, but yes, I'll marry you"
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webslingingslasher · 3 months
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cherry buys the cherry lube (best kind) as her last step to convince peter to fuck her and he just sighs JDBDDN
she’s just a girl😔 he needs to give her what she wants! in the name of feminism
an: nsfw content!
sitting crisscrossed in peter’s bed, you reach over the side to grab a small bag from your backpack. the thin plastic had three red thank you’s printed across it. you raise it over your head and give it a shimmy.
‘guess what i got?’
‘a lamborghini.’
‘so close! okay, you know that sex shop off that exit with the chinese place?’
‘no.’
‘oh. i’ll have to take you-’
‘no thanks.’
‘- but i went there and i found something. something i think you’d like and something you think we’d need.’
‘i’m scared.’
‘i’m not!’ you shake out the bag, a palm sized bottle of lube falls, it lands on your lap and you quickly present it to peter with a proud smile.
‘lube?’ you shove it out into his hands, ‘look at the flavor!’ peter squints at the bottle, then scoffs. ‘really? cherry?’
‘oh c’mon, it’s perfect!’ you start listing off why, ‘you call me cherry, you’re taking my cherry, and it’s cherry lube, to do said previous thing.’
you’re waiting for his excitement, you reach forward to push at his cheeks, forcing a smile. ‘what? you don’t find it funny? i thought i’d at least get a chuckle from you.’
peter watches as you tear the plastic around the cap with your teeth. ‘do you think it actually tastes like cherry?’ you stick out your tongue and put a small drop on it, you hold it out to peter and wave your hand along.
he’s got hesitant eyes when his own darts out, you give him the same amount. your face sours at the taste, peter has a poker face. ‘ew.’ it sticks around, you wipe your tongue off with your shirt.
'that was gross- unless you like it, i assume you'd be doing most of the tasting.' peter tosses the bottle into a trashcan you didn't know he had. 'is that new?' peter shakes his head, you tilt yours and try to place it. 'weird. never noticed it before. also, you owe me four dollars.'
'why do i have to pay you back?'
'you threw it away.'
'it was inedible.'
'false. i could've used it by myself.'
'go dig it out then.'
'i deserve more than trash lube, peter.'
'consider it a favor, you shouldn't be using scentsy stuff down below. i've heard they don't like it.'
you squint at him, 'what's it for then?' peter looks down at his crotch, 'blowjobs.' you drop your mouth a little, that hadn't occurred to you. 'oh, i see.' you have a moment where things click into place. 'so that would also explain flavored condoms.'
'please tell me you didn't get flavored condoms.'
'of course not.'
peter relaxes, you prefer him on edge.
'i don't know what size you wear. is it a one size fits all thing cause i've seen those videos where people hang them out the car window and they turn into balloons.'
'think of it as a pair of leggings. could you fit into a pair three sizes too small? sure can. is it comfortable? absolutely not.'
‘and ones that are too big just fall off? that explains a lot, actually.’
‘personally, i’d be more mortified if a condom came off because it was too big versus just admitting i need a smaller size.’
your eye twinkles, ‘and what size are you?’
‘you buy the tampons, i buy the condoms. deal?’ you can't lie, learning male anatomy has been your favorite part in all of this.
peter lays back with his hands behind his head, you straddle his lap and he's watching with close eyes. 'what? i can't get comfortable?'
he smiles. sometimes you get a ping in your lower stomach when he looks at you like that.
'all this bedspace and you choose to get comfortable on me?'
'i have a feeling this will be my favorite seat.' a smug grin.
'you're bold for a virgin.'
'would you rather me be scared to be near you, a man with a penis?' peter's head tilts, you know what's coming. 'oh? so you didn't have a panic attack when you saw my dick?'
you twitch your nose at the quip, you pat his tummy, hovering over his waistline. 'speaking of, you should let me see him again. i'm prepared and i wanna touch.'
peter's ignoring the spike in his blood pressure, he doesn't like the gleam in your eye. 'or... i think i have a suggestion for how you can make up the four dollars you owe me.'
'i owe you nothing, but lets hear it.'
you act out your words. 'you,' you point at him. 'me,' you point at yourself. 'having sex,' you gesture to your placement, then the bare spot next to him. before he can ruin it, you continue. 'right now.'
'do you think if you keep asking i'll say yes on a whim?' you lean in, inches from his face. 'you want to have sex with me. you want to take me to pound town. you want to make me a real woman.' it's a poor attempt at hypnotizing.
'okay, well, being a virgin doesn't mean you're not a real woman. second, you still get nervous about making out with me. you're not ready for sex.'
okay, maybe so. it's not your fault you don't know how to act around him, he's the first guy you've seen for longer than a week and he's not your boyfriend.
'i'm not anxious about kissing you.'
'oh, really? do it then.' he called your bluff. you've kissed people before but this whole arrangement was peter's idea so you've left all the initiation to him.
'fine, i'll kiss you.' you make no movements.
'i'm waiting.' you swallow tightly and move in, he's got that smile that makes your heart beat fast, you still haven't pinpointed why. 'i'm going to kiss you.' peter nods, 'go ahead.'
you get closer, 'i'm seriously gonna do it.'
'c'mon, cherry. i hate a tease.' you power through the part of your brain that tells you you've never kissed a guy, you've always waited for them to kiss you. you hold your breath and land a peck on his mouth.
'there. i did it.'
'did what? kiss me like i dared you?’ he finds it funny, that's what you get for being bold. you won't make him laugh this time. you move quick, your lips melt over his, you always forget how good of a kisser he is until you have your mouth on his and you never want to separate again.
it becomes sloppy, when you lick his bottom lip peter groans, it sends a spark to your thighs and you involuntarily clench around nothing. you gasp when you're flipped onto your back, peter's dotting a line over your jaw.
when a rough hand skids under your shirt, you suck in a breath.
'relax.' 
it's easier said than done. peter's right, you talk a big game but when he actually tries to do what you want, you hit the panic button.
'sorry, i was just thinking about the four bucks you owe me.'
'don't lie when i'm about to get handsy.' you squirm when fingers tuck themselves into the band of your bra. 'handsy how?' it's peter's turn to take control.
'how do you feel about hitting second base?'
'you're gonna finger me?' your voice pitches while your mind starts racing, you weren't prepared for this. 'easy, killer. second base is just me feeling you up, when you're ready for more, let me know.'
relief floods you, you get more comfortable underneath him. 'oh, okay. yeah, you can get handsy. do you want me to take my shirt off?'
'i want to suck your tits, you decide.'
your entire body flushes warmth, your cheeks are like lava. 'oh! i've never had that done. does it feel good?'
'i don't know, but i'm here if you want to find out.' you nibble on your bottom lip, it's all about eventually having sex and part of that might include your boobs.
'i'd like to find out.'
peter doesn't rush into it. for someone who doesn't like to be teased, he loves teasing. it feels like an hour passes before you're bare chested, a slurry of insecurity flashes when he doesn't immediately go to town.
'you're beautiful.' peter feels a little silly saying it, he hasn't really complimented a girl so softly under the guise of sex before.
your heart pounds, you've never heard it said so authentically. peter genuinely believes what he's saying, you don't think a guy has ever called you beautiful. you've gotten hot and sexy but never beautiful. you feel the need to give him something back.
'you're handsome.' you might be bad at this, you feel his smile in the crook of your neck.
'thanks, cherry.'
slow marks dance over your collarbones, when they reach your chest you almost flinch. 'i'm okay.' you were speaking to yourself, but maybe peter also needs the reminder. 'are you trying to convince me or yourself?'
'yes.'
'you can tap out. no harm, no foul.' no, you got this far and if you back out it would be taking ten steps backwards. 'i'm not tapping out, i'm waiting to see if what you're saying is worth all the hoopla.'
peter snorts, 'hoopla.' you're about to give a rebuttal, instead you grip the back of his head and let out a breathy 'oh wow,' when peter swirls his tongue around you.
it's igniting you all over, you don't know why you thought it would feel bad. when there's a vacuum seal and peter starts sucking, you're a goner. when he mixes in that little twirl method, you let out an earth shattering moan.
your hand slams over your mouth. 'sorry! i've never done that before and i-' there's a dark look in peter's eyes, you can't decide if he's more upset about your words or making him stop.
'don't ever apologize for your pleasure. got it?' you nod quickly, you'd agree to anything if it meant peter would keep going. 'okay, okay, got it.' it's all he needs and he's back to work, the breast he doesn't have in his mouth is being treated with his hand.
there's double sensation, peter's going back and forth and now you can't think straight and... and... you're about to come and you've never done that in front of another person.
'please stop!'
peter drops his mouth open and freezes, he's moving with caution when he pulls away from you. you race for air while the knot in your stomach slowly untangles.
'are you okay?' peter's looking over every inch of your body, you smile sheepishly and look anywhere but him. 'yeah. i was just like... you know?'
'no.'
'i was gonna... you know? and i've never done that with another person.' peter's trying to jump through the hoops of your 'you know?'s' you say that a lot and very rarely does he actually know what you mean.
'you were about to come?' everything burns, how is he so casual about all of this? 'yeah.' the look on his face tells you he already knew that. 'what did you think the point was? just for fun?'
'you didn't tell me that! how was i supposed to know?' he gives a half shrug. 'it gets some people off and others need more. it was a gamble, nice to know which crowd you fit in though.'
you feel a bit silly, of course that was the intention. wasn't this whole thing about your pleasure? 'if you get me off, i have to get you off.' peter's quick to shut you down.
'you don't have to do anything. sex isn't transactional.'
'yeah, but, peter, i want to please you too. this doesn't do much for me if you keep me away from you.' peter takes your concern to heart, he nods thoughtfully and calmly explains his hesitation.
'i understand that, and i promise we'll get there. mutual pleasure is something we need to conquer before sex, yes. but for right now, as someone who's done those things for a while, i'm on the backburner. i need to catch you up to speed on some things first, okay? you've never come in front of someone, you don't need to be trying to tack blowjob skills on top of that.'
peter has an excellent argument, you just feel bad he's not getting anything in return. he doesn't owe you anything, he's just doing you a favor and he absolutely doesn't owe you loyalty. it's not like peter likes you, he's just doing you a favor, that's all this is.
'just because...' your tongue feels thick, it feels hard to say what you're about to say and you don't know why. 'just because you're helping me out doesn't mean you have to suffer. so if you want to hookup with someone more experienced while we-'
'no. that's not what this is about, that mentality is why we're not just jumping into sex. cherry lube or not.' you don't know why that relieves you, you don't know why you feel so much better knowing peter wasn't looking for anything with anyone else.
just in case; 'if you do hook up with someone else-'
'i won't.'
'-i believe you. but if you do, can you promise not to tell me? if you need to take care of yourself outside of this just don't let me find out, please.' it'd be crushing to know what peter's doing with you while knowing he's doing the same thing with another girl who could actually pleasure him back.
'cherry, seriously, that's not what this is about.' it's sex. it's only about sex. how could you be confusing it?
'sex is about open and honest communication. it's about trusting each other and being vulnerable. it doesn't matter if it's a one night stand or a committed relationship, it takes a lot to open up to someone else like that. if, and i wouldn't, but i'll entertain you- if i wanted to step out of this, i'd tell you first, because that's what you're supposed to do.'
when you picked peter out of the line of frat boys you had no idea you got the one who was all about slow and steady. you expected a quick one night and to be sent off to live the world as a non-virgin, not the beefy gentleman in front of you.
'you're one of a kind, parker.' peter winks at you, you feel warm. 'same to you, cherry. this only works if we're open with each other, i'm not just teaching you the physical parts of sex, i'm trying to show you the mental and emotional side of it because that's way more important than the actual sex, does that make sense?'
you think you get what he's saying. 'so, because you already know these things, your pleasure doesn't matter right now?'
'correct.'
'and if it matters to me?'
'don't let it. because if it becomes an issue i'll...' he trails off, he's waiting on you to finish it for him. you'll prove you've been listening. 'tell me.'
'bingo! look at you, cherry smart.' you groan, 'that was gross.' peter squeezes your knee, he's looking over your face for any hesitation, he doesn't see any.
'are we good? we're on the same page now?'
you nibble on your bottom lip, you think you covered everything. you didn't know there were so many things to sex. 'yeah, same page.' peter's happy with that, he nods once and turns back on the horny part of his brain.
'still wanna call it quits or keep going?'
same page, same page, same page, same-
'keep going.' you sound nervous, peter catches it. 'are you sure? we can put it on pause and-'
'no, i wanna...' time to be a big girl, you're both on the same page. 'i wanna have you make me...' you lose your tenacity but you still power through, even if you mumble the last word. 'come.'
peter tells you if you wanna stop, at any point for any reason, just call it like you did before. you agree but tell yourself you were going to get through it because the sooner you open yourself up for pleasure, the sooner peter opens himself up for the same thing.
it's not a hard thing to power through, this time you're not shy about quiet whimpers or tugging at the back of peter's hair. 'oh my god,' you squeeze your eyes shut, there are zings of want being sent into your core, it's an unreal feeling.
peter grazes his teeth over your nipple, your back arches from his bed. 'okay, yeah, shit, fuck, okay.' you're bad at staying calm, peter's humming into your skin, you want more. you want everything he's given you multiplied by ten.
a switch to your left breast, it's just as satisfying. when his thumb tweaks your bud, you push up further. 'i want more, please more.' you don't know what you're asking for, you're hoping peter will help you out.
peter sucks harshly, your breath hitches and at that perfect moment, he grinds his hips into yours. an egregious moan rips from your throat, you can't help the tumbling whimper, it sounds pathetic. peter must like it, he rolls harsher, his jeans meet your bottoms perfectly.
'doin' okay?' you answer by shoving his head back down. 'mhm, keep doing that please.' peter follows  the instruction, whatever gets you off, he'll do.
bump and grind, he's back on your right tit. it's been ten minutes but you can already tell he prefers that one. it took longer to build because you edged yourself, but peter hit that one spot and your thighs are a vice grip around his hips.
'oh my fucking god, peter.' he said he doesn't know if it would feel good, you wish you could share a fraction of what you're experiencing. your lower stomach tightens, peter latches down harder as if he has a sixth sense for what you're about to do.
you don't know what to do with your hands, when you grit your teeth and meet his miniature thrusts, they land on peter's arms and your nails dig in. your eyes slam closed, you see white light as if your picture was taken with the flash on.
'shit, shit, shit, shit!' you swear you're drawing blood from him but all you can think about is the heat exploding from your body. your hips buck they never have before, there's a sense of delight backing it up.
you've never had an orgasm like this in your entire life. it feels so different with another person, it felt like it was never ending. your legs feel like they locked up, you stop breathing for a solid second before you're gasping.
peter pulls back, your head is still spinning. your chest rapidly rises and falls, you feel marks over your face but you're so far away in your mind it's muddled.
'c'mon, come back to me.' you feel more awake, there's a wet kiss to your cheek, then another to your chin. 'c'mon, cherry. find your mind.' you do, your eyes open, you forgot you had them closed. it's like peeling them apart.
you feel wrecked.
'hi.' peter's got a cocky grin, he deserves it. you run your hand down your face, you feel fuzzy. 'hi.' you remember the harm you might've caused, you slightly shake when you reach for peter's arm, there's no marks.
'how are you feeling?' like you're leaking into his mattress, like every muscle is weighed down, like you couldn't stand up if you tried. the best you can come up with is, 'floaty.'
'that might stick around for a minute. want some water?' you hadn't thought of it before, but suddenly you feel parched. peter reads your mind, he's already holding out his water bottle.
'everything's better right after, no idea why.' peter guesses it's something with endorphins and brain chemicals, but he's never bothered to actually look into it.
after sitting up, you chug. even after the water you're still breathless. 'holy shit.' falling forward, peter catches you. you lay on him as a half hug, all he's doing is supporting your weight. you feel terribly heavy right now.
'thank you so much, oh my god. holy shit, a guy just made me come in my pants, what the fuck is my life?' a sprinkle of kisses from your ear to your cheek, 'don't build my ego too much or you'll have to deal with it.'
'i feel so heavy right now.' you drop to the pillow at peter's push, you don't have it in you to fight back. it's not necessary because peter falls right next to you and scoops you into his hold.
or, another way to put it, peter's cuddling you. peter's cuddling you while he's kissing your shoulder, it makes your head spin even more. 'what are you doing?' you're not fighting him on it, if anything you're leaning in further, he's just never cuddled you before. it feels nice.
'aftercaring you. doing my best to get you back down to earth from your floaty space.' you nod like you understand, there's still some things you need to get better at.
'hey, peter?'
'yeah?' he's much quieter.
'you don't owe me four dollars anymore.' a puff of hot air into your skin, at least he finds you funny. 'good. you were never gonna get it anyways.' 
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ellastone-olsen · 4 months
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can you write a smut story where reader had to wait the entire ceremony (Golden globes) before she could take the gorgeous dress off of Lizzie. And Lizzie’s been just teasing her so when they get home reader rips the dress and takes Lizzie please 🙏🏻 I love your writing <3
Wicked game | Elizabeth Olsen
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★Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x fem!reader
Summary: your girlfriend has gone too far with her teasing. that's what it says in the request
★Warnings: SMUT 18+, teasing, dirty talk, overstimulation, sex toys, strap on usage, praise, aftercare, fluff
★Word count: 1.8k
★AN: I have some kind of creative block, but I'm alive. I spent 5 days on this little thing instead of the usual 1.
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The car slowly cut through the road, drifting between streams of the same iron boxes on wheels. The interior of the black SUV was spacious, but you and Elizabeth still sat shoulder to shoulder as the pad of your thumb stroked her knee through the fabric of snow-white dress. "Am I look good?" such a simple question with an obvious answer, but she still needed your confirmation. You cupped her cheek with your hand and turned her head towards you. “You are always beautiful my love” You give her a quick kiss on the lips and then look into her big green eyes. An idea just came into her sweet head, otherwise you can’t explain the sudden change in mood. She takes your hand and places it on her chest. “Then can you show me how much?”
A shiver runs down your spine and you nervously look at the driver's seat, noticing how the man is looking at you through the rearview mirror. As soon as your gazes intersect, he immediately turns his eyes back to the road. “Oh don’t worry dear, he will have to pay dearly if he spills the beans about what he saw.” Elizabeth whispers in your ear, you hope that by pay she means money. She moves your hand further, under her dress so that you touch her bare breasts and moans softly in your ear, making your core begin to pulsate. "Babe." You're warning her not to start something she can't finish. Her teeth bite your earlobe and you want to pull her away by hair, but you remember about styling. "Elizabeth." Your stern tone and the full form of her name still have an effect and she moves away. You don’t respond to her sweet smile, the car is just stopping.
The Golden Globes look spectacular, but boring. You are absolutely not interested in the speeches all these people make when they receive an award. People you don't know say words of gratitude to people you don't know again. The waiters obligingly drift back and forth, serving glasses of champagne and appetizers that are inedible to your taste. You just stand on the side and look around while your girlfriend talks to other celebrities or gives interviews. When you finally sit down in your seats, you cross your legs and lean back, unable to sit up straight. Elizabeth sits in such a way that the Queen of England would envy her if she were alive.
Time passes and you drink your second glass of champagne when it seems to you that something is touching your leg under the table. You don't pay attention to it until the action is repeated. The head turns to your girlfriend, but it looks like Robert Downey Jr.'s award ceremony is the most interesting thing she's ever seen. However, where her hands are says otherwise. Elizabeth's right hand triples on your thigh, red nails lightly scratching through the thin fabric of your pants, sending shivers down your spine. You stare at her, but the older woman doesn’t even think of turning her head. "Stop it." Your irritated, harsh whisper flies past her. As a sign from above, the bell rings, signaling a break, and without wasting any time, you grab Elizabeth’s hand and drag her away towards the toilets.
She sighs when she suddenly finds herself pressed against the wall, of course you can be rude, but first cover the back of her head with your hand so that she doesn’t get hurt from the blow. “What games are you playing today?” A hot whisper near her ear makes the woman hold her breath for a couple of seconds. Her answer doesn't keep you waiting. “But you like it, don’t you?” Elizabeth puts her hands on your waist, touching you through your thin shirt and tilting her head to leave small, light bites on your neck. “If you continue, I’ll push you into the toilet, lock the common door, bend you over the counter and...” You lose your breath from the stronger bite. “And what, dear?” The bell rings again, signaling everyone to return to their seats. You stand pressed against her for a few seconds, then push yourself off the wall with your hands and rub your neck where Elizabeth’s lips were, erasing non-existent traces of lipstick. The two of you go to your seats and no one seems to notice your disheveled state.
The ride home is quick and quiet, for two reasons. The older woman realized that you would ruin her for all her antics as soon as she set foot on the threshold of the house. She was in anticipation and silently looked out the window, imagining all the options for the development of events. The second reason is what you said to the poor driver when you got into the car. “You have 10 minutes to take us back, Elizabeth is terribly tired.” The black car brought you home in exactly 10 minutes. You gave the driver a tip for being in a hurry, even though it was not customary. When the front door closed behind you, what the older woman expected and desired happened. You grabbed her hand and quickly led her to your bedroom. When the door to the room closed, in one motion you threw Elizabeth onto her stomach on the plush blanket of your large bed.
Your hands pushed her hair back, exposing her slender neck so you could kiss and bite it. The woman's hips shot up, but you blocked the movement by straddling her. “If you think that you will get what you want quickly, don’t hope.” The zipper of the white dress was pulled down, almost breaking the zipper. Her dress and panties disappeared from her in record time, and you somehow managed not to tear them.
When you took a few steps back admiring the picture in front of you, your gaze caught on her wet shiny folds. She had definitely been looking forward to this all day. Elizabeth turned her head to the lack of action on your part to check the situation and saw you taking out from the nightstand the black compact vibrator that she loved so much. There were two scenarios in her head: either now she would get the best orgasm of her life, or she would die from overstimulation, but she really hoped for the first.
You returned to your girlfriend and moved her hips closer to the edge of the bed so that she rested her knees on the plush pile of the carpet and exposed her ass to your view. Your hands stroked her soft thighs, you couldn’t resist and leaned towards her dripping center to run your tongue along the entire length, tasting her. A shaky sigh escaped the woman's mouth above you and you repeated the action, gripping her hips even harder (there might be bruises there later). A mixture of pleasure and slight pain made her unconsciously lean back for closer contact. In what seemed like such a simple and innocent action, your palm landed on her ass with a loud slap. "No, no, don't you dare move." There was the first warning, which caused a groan of pain to escape from the older woman.
After you were satisfied with her taste, two fingers slipped inside her so easily, stretching the velvet walls. The second hand pressed the toy’s power button and you set the speed to medium, bringing it to her pulsating clit. "Hold it." Elizabeth reached underneath her and grabbed the silicone object, holding it in place. “If you disobey me, an even worse punishment will follow. You understood?" The older woman's mind was clouded with pleasure, but she hummed in agreement anyway. Her thoughts were confused by the way you moved inside her, pressing on a sensitive spot. Another slap to her ass. "Use your words." Her back arched and she was ready to swear that she would cum from such rough treatment. “Yes, I understand...please Y/N.” With every thrust, you felt her walls squeezing tighter around you. Elizabeth could no longer find words and shouted curses into the emptiness of your house. “Fuck...I'm going to cum...please can I?...” You cut her off. "No. Take it away."
She obediently removed the toy from her throbbing clit, stopping any stimulation. You were still moving inside her, but it wasn't enough to make her fall over the edge. “Oh fuck...fuck...so good...please can I continue?” You were silent for a minute before you gave her permission, making sure she didn't cum instantly. The woman's hips jumped as the stimulation began again. You pounded into her at a fast pace and after a couple of minutes you felt your orgasm approaching again. "Elizabeth stop." Oh how she didn’t like it when you called her by her full name, it never meant anything good. She put the toy away again and you pulled out.
The woman heard the chest of drawers open again behind her, the sounds of the harness, and then the cold tip of the faux cock pressed into her dripping entrance. You spread her natural lub along entire length and pushed the thick toy into her in one motion. Your girlfriend’s mouth opened in a silent scream, her hands grabbed the sheets as if they would tear them. "OH FUCK ." You returned her hand with the vibrator to the right place and pounding at her at a fast pace. “Do you like my cock baby? Mmm? Is this what you wanted all this time? So that I could fuck you like the whore?” Your dirty words turned her on even more. "Yes! Yes! Y/N can...can I cum?” She was ready to cry from overstimulation and you took pity on her. You leaned down to leave a kiss behind her ear and whispered. “Cum for me baby.”
Almost immediately, the woman fell over the edge, screaming your name mixed with curses into the softness of the mattress. You continued to fuck her through her orgasm until a small whine was heard from her. You pulled out and took off the strap, throwing it somewhere deep in the room, thinking that you would take care of it later.
Your arms grabbed Elizabeth and you helped her climb onto the bed, lying on her back. Her knees were red from standing on them for a long time and you gently rubbed the skin in the hope of relieving the pain. "My good girl, Lizzie." The lips began to pass everywhere you could reach, starting from the neck and ending with her cute tummy that you loved so much. When you looked up at her again, you noticed that the woman had begun to fall asleep.
“Baby, don’t sleep, you need to take off your makeup.” A hand covered her cheek and the pad of her thumb gently rubbed her cheekbone. “Mmmmm but I’m so tired, it can wait a couple of hours.” She mumbled sleepily. You gave in and covered her naked body with a plush blanket, setting the alarm for 3 hours. When the light in the room went out, Elizabeth had already fallen asleep and hugged you, breathing steadily into your neck.
Your fingers played with her blonde hair until you fell into the realm of Morpheus after her.
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erodasfishtacos · 3 months
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hiiii guys.
this is my new trope on patreon. there are 6 more parts available on there and more updates to come. You can subscribe for $3USD a month here
THE KISSCAM TROPE
++
YN doesn't know why she thought that a hockey game of all things would make her feel any better about her breakup with Adam.
YN really can’t imagine that anything will lessen the sour taste of her high school sweetheart getting another girl pregnant.
All YN had known was Adam which she was now realizing how much she had been missing out on experiencing through her earlier twenties.
While Adam snuck around behind her back to experiment, hook-up, and do whatever else with other woman.
YN, unfortunately, only knew Adam intimately.
YN always knew that had been lackluster, always more to desire because he chased his own needs and very rarely helped her reach her own pleasure.
It was bittersweet.
There’s a massive relief that she doesn’t have to imagine her entire life with him and open it to new possibilities.
However, the hurt that came with his infidelity still ached enough that she sometimes physically felt her chest twinge.
:readmore:
A hockey game with a few of her close friends.
Her best friend, April, worked for the arena which meant that she was able to secure pretty close-to-the-ice tickets for a fourth of the price.
As they sat down, a few of them had already had a drink or two in them, and YN didn’t want to mix alcohol with a broken heart so she stuck to a soda instead.
After they’ve filed into their seats, YN was at the one end of her group which meant the chair next to her would be filled by another attendee.
She didn’t think anything of it, leaning across her friend Henry to chat to April, her back towards the empty seat.
YN does not realize that someone is trying to sit down until someone bumps her in the back with their elbow, not hard enough to hurt but enough that YN glances back.
“Sorry for that,” The most gorgeous man she’s ever seen apologizes, a big genuine smile that makes dimples pop in his cheeks, “Got my hands full.”
And he did, he managed to carry three bottles of beer by the neck in one hand, his other filled with a tray of food.
His friends follow shortly after, tugging the beers one by one out of his hand until he can sit down comfortably with his carton of food on his lap.
“It’s okay,” YN assures him, trying to not make it too obvious that she’s giving him a sneaky once over because damn.
He was in a pair of well fitting jeans, a shirt that looked vintage but hugged his broad shoulders tight, looser as it tapered down.
The man continues to smile at her as his friends appear to be quite a rowdy group in comparison to him as they settle in.
“You’re pretty,” The stranger tells her, no shame in his words but not much meaning because he’s already turning back towards his friends like he didn’t just rock her world.
YN questions whether she heard it right because did he just call her pretty?
She tries desperately not to hyper focus on it like a schoolgirl with a crush but it’s hard when his shoulders are so broad, his biceps were built.
It was impossible for their bodies not to be frequently touching.
YN attempts to focus on her friends until the game starts, having to face forward and not be able to have her back to the man.
“You want a fry?” The stranger asks randomly after a few moments.
YN assumes that he’s talking to a friend until he nudges her with an elbow, “Do you want a fry or a chicken strip?”
YN normally wouldn’t accept food from someone she didn’t know but their dinner had been disgusting and inedible which meant her stomach was rumbling.
He’s offering the basket up to her, letting her pick out a fry, and his smile was still just plaster on his face as he watched her.
“Thank you,” YN replies after she’s finished it, giving him more of an unsure grin back.
“Help yourself,” He tells her casually before he’s placing the basket between them so she could grab a fry or strip more easily.
This was weird.
After a few minutes, YN hesitantly plucks up another fry, and the man next to her doesn’t acknowledge that she’s eating out of his basket at all.
When YN’s hand hits paper, she looked down in utter embarrassment, “Oh my god. I am so sorry. I didn’t even realize that I was eating all your food.”
The guy looks over at her for a moment, confused until he glances down at the basket balanced on his leg, and then back to her.
“I’ll go grab you another one right now-“
YN moves to stand up and his hand lightly comes to her shoulder to keep her sat, his expression is somewhat unreadable, somewhat amused.
“I offered them to you? Why are you apologizing?”
“You didn’t offer for me to eat the whole basket,” YN points out with a heat in her cheeks, this was embarrassing.
“Are you still hungry? I could go grab more,” He asks easily, it wasn’t a jest or teasing, he was being a hundred percent serious.
If YN would have ate Adam’s food, he would have demanded she go immediately to get more and then bring it up for the rest of the night too.
This man, who was unfairly attractive but more than that, suspiciously nice even though it didn’t come off as creepy or predatory.
“I’m good. Thank you for asking. I’m sorry again,” YN apologizes again for good measure as she picks anxiously at her thumb.
“No apology needed,” He shakes his head with a laugh as he puts the empty remnants on the ground in front of him and swigs from his beer.
YN has to keep her eyes on the ice, she is much too focused on every time his shoulder brushes or his knee knocks in hers because he has to spread his legs an ungodly amount.
There was no conversation between them until another attendee who was further into the middle row was attempting to exit by their side.
The man was a bit wobbly, there was surely a lot of alcohol running through his system and he wasn’t being careful.
He trips over his own feet, over the debris on the ground, and rumbles right on top of YN who yelps in surprise.
The man next to her is quick to action, standing up and tugging the guy back up so that he was standing off his feet.
He was visibly annoyed with the drunk, voice sharp as he warns, “Watch where you’re fucking walking, mate. You could have hurt her.”
The guy mumbles an apology before staggering up the stairs, most likely to get more alcohol.
“Thank you,” YN says once again to him, adjusting her top and brushing off the pants of her leg, heart still pounding.
“Harry, bro. Johnson almost scored!” One of his friends pats his arm excitedly.
Harry.
Well, Harry gives her that signature smile before biting the corner of his lip, and his eyes stay on her a moment longer than acceptable before going back to his friends.
When a commercial break cuts, towards the end of the game, it’s the crowd's favorite time.
The kiss cam.
YN doesn’t think much of it, she’s not with anyone nor loving up on someone.
And it’s an area with fifty-thousand people, it’s next to impossible for her to-
But then her friends are squealing, shoving at her to look towards the Jumbotron, and there she is, projected on the screen.
The frame is decorated with corny swirling pink hearts, balloons popping, and most importantly bold letters that read, ‘KISS CAM’.
In the frame with her, however, is Harry.
As if they were a couple.
His friends must point it out to him because he’s glancing at the screen before he’s making eye contact with her.
Boldly, wildly, he grins and asks, “Can I kiss you?”
YN boldy, wildly nods ‘yes’.
He leans into her space then, big hands coming up to cup her face, and he pulls her into a kiss with an intensity that’s unwarranted but welcomed.
YN can feel her heartbeat in her throat, blood rushing through her ears, and her hand trembling when she wraps her fingers around his wrist.
It’s not chaste.
No, Harry is swiping his tongue against her bottom lip as the crowd goes absolutely insane, roaring and hooting.
Not to mention their friends.
At some point, the camera finds a new couple but YN is positive that they’ve kissed for much longer than they were on the screen before they both pull back.
His lips are puffy, pink, and his eyes are intent on her.
YN feels like panting and her heart jumps when he leans back in for another kiss, a shorter, more sweet one but his hand is grounding on her jaw.
“I’m Harry.”
“YN,” She smiles back at him, her hand still gripping onto him and he doesn’t seem to mind one bit as they just can’t take their eyes off each other.
“Would you want to get out of here?” Harry asks brazenly, hopefully as he appears like he wants to devour her.
YN who’s never been a risk-tasker, who’s never had a hook-up, or anyone other than Adam finds herself agreeing, “Yeah, I do.”
+++
part ii
After Harry had opened his apartment door, the arousal and excitement has warped into a trembling nervousness.
What the fuck did a random hookup look like?
YN didn’t even know if she was good at sex because Adam only had a few trusty positions that he liked.
Harry locks the door behind them, the apartment is small but cozy and clean, it smells like his cologne and the lighting is just right for the mood.
He steps up behind her, leaning down to kiss her neck, and his hands on her hips, bigger and stronger than anything she’s ever felt before.
“Do you need anything first? Bathroom, food, water?” He asks against her skin, he was forward in the way that he was already pressing his hips into her backside.
YN shakes her head, trying to keep up, “No, thank you.”
Harry laughs softly, lips smooth against her pulse, “So polite. Let me know if that changes, baby.”
Baby.
They just met and it sounded sincere, not like a corny pickup line.
Harry moves in front of her, not once ounce of shyness as he crosses his arms over his chest and tugs his shirt up and off.
He was ripped.
Surprisingly so, not that he didn’t look fit with his shirt on but YN wasn’t expecting him to have abs, a sharp vee cutting towards his groin, nor the defined muscle near his ribs.
He looks like he walked out of a magazine.
Was she being pranked?
YN didn’t think this could possibly be real life where the most handsome man she’d ever seen was stripping for her.
He moves towards his jeans, unbuckling his belt, and shimmying them off his narrow hips before kicks them to the side.
Just in his briefs and socks, his groin was prominent, and YN’s heart lurches at that because she’s only taken Adam who was a little below average in size.
His wasn’t average, she could tell from here.
A nervous flip of arousal churns in the bit of her stomach, she wanted this man so much that she felt like clenching her thighs together.
Harry’s brow knife in concern when he notices YN stood like a statue, just staring at him, and making no effort to move.
“Is everything okay?” Harry checks cautiously, stepping towards her but not touching her as he looks unsure.
Fuck, she was embarrassed again.
“Uh, ye-yeah,” Her voice cracks like a boy going through puberty, “Just my first time.”
Harry’s eyes widen in alarm, startled, “Oh fuck, I would have done shit different if I knew that you’ve never-“
YN realizes she could have used much better wording and waves her hand, “No no, I’m not a virgin. I just got out of a long-term relationship. I’ve only ever been with him. This is my first time…just randomly hooking up with someone.”
A relieved smile crosses Harry’s face, “Shit, baby. I’m glad you chose me. How could someone let you go? Prettiest face I’ve ever seen, cutest set of tits too.”
“I just might not be the best but,” YN shrugs sheepishly, this has to be the most mortifying experience ever.
“Don’t be worried ‘bout a thing,” Harry assures her as he steps forward, “Now I gotta give it my all to prove m’better than your ex.”
YN decides to take a step out of her comfort zone, reaching forward to grip him through the cotton of his briefs, and he fills her whole hand.
“You weren’t going to give it your all before?” YN teases, feeling her confidence grow by the moment as she moves to thumb over the sensitive head.
“Fuck,” He curses under his breath, eyes meeting hers under his lashes, “I was always going to, baby.”
“Mhm,” YN hums, not convinced as he twitches in her palm, easy for her already.
“Gotta get you naked, my room,” Harry’s breathing is heavier as he reaches out for her hand, guiding her towards his bedroom.
Once they’re in, it’s surprisingly big, and has a comfortable looking king-sized bed that was actually made nicely.
“Please,” YN hears him asks after a moment of her being distracted, “Let me undress you. I’m fuckin’ dying to see you.”
YN can’t help but look over his body once more and she knew she was nothing in comparison to his athletic build.
However, pushing the insecurity down, she nods with a smile for him to undress her.
It was worth the nerves.
By the time she’s down to just her panties, Harry is groaning as he acts like he’s never seen anything better in his life.
“Knew you’d have the cutest set of tits I’ve ever seen,” Harry rumbles as he ducks down to cup them in his big palms, mouth wrapping around one and sucking.
It felt amazing.
Adam didn’t pay any attention to her body when they had sex, never had, and it did feel like her first time in a way.
She wouldn’t want it with anyone else but Harry.
His hand trails from her breast down her belly, fingers dipping into the front of her cotton underwear.
“Fuck, wait,” YN reaches down to hold his wrist, cheeks warm, “You don’t have to.”
Harry pulls his mouth back from her chest, frowning as he stands up straight again, “Do you not like that?”
“It’s not that, I just haven’t you know…” YN trails off, hoping that he would catch on.
He doesn’t.
“You haven’t….” Harry repeats back, he was still soft and gentle, unhurried and patient with her as she hesitated.
YN looks past his right ear as she replies, “I haven’t shaved in a while. We’ve been broken up for a few months and I haven’t maintained-“
Harry is letting out a humored snort, leaning forward to kiss her quiet before he’s kneeling down in front of her, mouth laying wet kisses on her belly.
“Baby, you’re insane if you think I mind hair. Anyway, I can get your pussy is fine by me. I like it, knowing I’m the first to have you like this in a while,” Harry replies, voice scratchier as his arousal grows, and his lips stay on her hip as he tugs the underwear down her legs.
Adam would refuse to have anything to do with her if she wasn’t freshly shaven.
Not shaving for the past few months had felt like the most freeing experience, she hadn’t ever thought she would be randomly having a hookup or she would have shaved.
“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Harry groans when he finally gets a look at her, his thumb coming up to smooth down the downy curls that were lightly dusting her pubic bone.
“Harry,” YN giggles anxiously, “You don’t have to act like -“
“Can I get my mouth on you?” Harry cuts her off, his eyes were glued to her center, where his thumb was pressing between her folds to nudge at her clit.
YN raises her eyebrow in surprise.
Adam had rarely done that, maybe five times total in their entire relationship, and YN never requested it because it didn’t feel good enough to want it again.
“If you want,” YN breathes out, still in a bit disbelief that this man was kneeling in front of her, asking to put his mouth if her.
“If I want,” He chuckles with a shake of his head before his hands are gripping his hips a bit firmer and keeping her still.
He doesn’t waste another moment, burying his face into her center, nose bumping against the curls on her mound as his tongue swipes through the split of her.
Harry knows what he’s doing.
His lips find her clit in seconds flat but he’s grunting at her, communicating without taking his mouth off of her, and shoulders her legs apart wider.
YN reaches for balance, finding his hair as something perfect to weave her fingers into, and hold steady.
He then just casually, again refusing to take his mouth away, hefts one of her thighs over his shoulder, and makes it possible to lick even deeper.
“Harry,” YN moans kittenishly, a sound she’s never heard out of her own mouth as she tugs harshly at his hair.
He lets out his own moan between sucks and licks, nose buried in the curls, and he’s taking heavy breathes because of his refusal of air.
YN has had orgasms when she had sex with Adam, occasionally, and with her own fingers.
This was the first time someone other than herself made her come.
Holy shit, it was life-changing.
“M’close,” YN warns but by the time she gets the words out, she’s throwing her head back and bucking her hips into his mouth as she rides it out.
His hands move to grip her ass hard, bruising enough as he pushes her as close as possible to help her feel it for as long as possible.
YN realizes just how much she was tugging his hair when her fingers ache, unwinding them as she pants, “I’m sorry. I pulled your hair so hard.”
Harry sits back on his heels, face shining as he swipes his thumb across his bottom lip before sticking in his mouth.
He was fucking obscene.
“Loved it,” Harry replies, voice raspy and deeper than ever, “You tasted just as good as you look. I think I’m in love with the bush.”
YN giggles as he helps her unwind her leg from over his shoulder, he stands up and kisses her hard.
It shouldn’t be hot that she can taste herself.
“Want to see you,” YN murmurs shyly, her fingernails trailing down his stomach, his abs twitching in response.
“Yeah, baby?” Harry goads as he watches her hand, “Hopefully it’s to your liking.”
YN takes that as permission to tug his briefs down his thighs, he was beautiful here too, unsurprisingly.
YN had experience with this.
Kinda.
Adam was less than half the size, not as pretty nor as thick.
It was a bit intimidating.
Harry must sense it, pressing a kiss to her lips, and huffing when she wraps her hand around him, stroking upwards.
“S’gonna fit, nice and snug, huh?” Harry whispers sweetly before he bites her bottom lip, he takes it upon himself to reach down again.
He slips in index and middle finger through her folds, crooking them up inside of her, and cursing under his breathe.
“Baby, you’re tight,” He tells her as he goes slowly, working her open as she pumps him in slow, firm strokes.
YN bites her lip, brave as she thumbs over his shiny tip, “Fuck me, please. Want it.”
“What do you like?” Harry asks as he walks them backwards to the bed, YN landing on her back and squirming up to the middle center.
“What do you mean?” YN asks between a gasp when she feels him brush against her mound, tip bumping at her folds.
“What position gets you off the best?” Harry elaborates as he peppers kisses over her collarbone, tweaking a nipple in his fingers.
“Whatever you like,” YN replies because none get her off.
Harry glances up at her, “But what position is good for you?”
“They’re all the same, aren’t they?” YN shrugs mulishly, “I don’t usually, well, I can use my fingers in any one.”
Harry looks at her like she’s grown a second head, voice sharper, “Did you ex really never make you orgasm during sex without you using your own fingers?”
YN tucks her bottom lip between her front teeth for a moment, “He said it’s easier if I just did it so yeah.”
Harry shakes his head, a scoff of disbelief, “How did he not worship this perfect little pussy, baby? I’ve never seen anything more magnificent.”
YN tries not to let the compliment go to her head, he defiently says that to every other girl he��s been with, it’s just a line.
“Your fingers aren’t going to be anywhere near your cunt tonight,” Harry rumbles as he reaches over to his night stand, rummaging until he finds a condom and rolls it over himself.
“Sweetheart, you’re drippin’ to your bum,” Harry laughs but it’s not mean, it’s fond as he has her bend her knees and spread them.
Harry paints himself up and down her entrance, hitting the heavy weight of it against her clit a few times before pressing in.
“O-oh,” YN gasps because he’s big.
It’s not painful but it is a stretch, as he makes room for himself, and he goes slowly.
He leans down, kissing her, and murmuring encouraging words to her.
Much too sweet for a causal hookup.
“Look at you, never had anyone look so pretty while taking my cock, baby.”
“See? S’room for me, hugging me perfectly.”
“Shit, darling. Never going to want to pull out, just want to stay all tucked up inside you.”
“Fuckin’ beautiful, I can’t decide whether I want to look at your pretty face or perfect pussy. M’spoiled for choice.”
“Please, please,” YN hiccups, she feels needy as he starts to put in more force behind in thrusts, and on every odd motion, he manages to hit a spot she didn’t know she had.
The spot that barreled her towards her second orgasm, nails digging to Harry’s bicep as she squeezes her eyes shut.
“Fuck, there it is, pretty baby. Come around my cock, squeezing me,” Harry lets out a low moan when he feels her walls contract around him.
YN has never come twice like that.
When Harry reaches down to press a thumb to her clit, she squeals with the overstimulation but he kisses her and assures her that she can give him one more.
YN has pathetic, fat tears streaming down her face as her third orgasm hits her.
“There we go,” Harry croons, pleased as a peach as he kisses her damp cheeks, “Came on my tongue, on my cock twice, see how good you are for me? S’all mine, right? Only cock you’ve ever come on.”
The possessiveness in his words makes her stomach flip with something good, validating that she wanted.
“Just yo-yours,” YN manages to agree through bated breath, he was pounding into her now, barreling towards his own end.
“Good girl, fuckin’ making me come for you,” He grits out, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple as he stills, pulsing inside her, “Fuckin’ hell.”
++
YN wakes up before Harry the next morning, quietly as a mouse slipping back into her clothes, and leaving his apartment.
Was it a shitty thing to do?
Yes.
Did she do it to avoid him kicking her out after they used each other because it felt real to her and this was just plain fun for him?
Also yes.
YN guesses this is how hookups go.
++
four more parts are up on my patreon now :)
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ohtobeleah · 1 year
Text
Roughing It // JS x BB x Reader
Summary: Jake Seresin begged you, his best friend to go camping with him and Bradley Bradshaw—but not for the innocent reasons you might think. A simple camping trip turns into something much more unholy. Callsign— Giggles
Warnings: Jake Seresin x F!Reader. Bradley Bradshaw x F!Reader. Unprotected sex. Male receiving oral. Choking. MxMxF Threesome. Creampie. Obvious power dynamics.
Word Count: 5.7k
Author Note: Happy Sunday—AKA, the Lords day. This is Roughing It’s 3rd rewrite & by far my favourite re-write & fandom. Enjoy Sluts.
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In the quiet of the warm afternoon light that cascaded across Jake Seresin's living room—you found a spot in the warm orange hume to curl up on the lounge. You settled on your comfort movie—TopGun, Maverick. Your clammy hand caressed the TV remote as you pressed play, the opening sequence still and always would send chills through your body as you watched the carrier out to sea appear on the large crisp screen like you’d watched a million times before and would probably watch a million times more. 
“High— way to the danger zone—“ You mumbled along as you settled in a little deeper, trying to will the inappropriate thoughts away. To say you were nervous was an understatement, neither you and Jake or you and Bradley had spoken about the events that had transpired a week ago and either of the two men who you’d had some of the roughest sex of your life with, no pun intended, had looked at you the same since. 
“Just come over and hang out, Gigs?” You could hear Jake's voice in your head as you sat and tried to focus on the movie playing in front of you. “You’ve been avoiding me like the damn plague.” 
There was a reason for that—
You couldn’t tell if Jake and Bradley were looking at you in disgust and regret at the thought of what the three of you had done or if they were just looking for an opportunity to have their way with you again. From fleeting glances in the halls or eyes that burned into the back of your head in the change rooms. Either way, it made you crave the two naval aviators more than you cared to admit. 
It all happened so fast, you couldn’t remember exactly how it started but the one thing you knew for sure was that Jake was the one who imitated it. He’d been thinking about it for a hell of a long time before he put his plan into action too. 
***~***~***~***
“For crying out loud Giggles! you complain more than Bradshaw does.” Jake huffed as he stood and turned away from where the two of you had been sitting on the camp log. “My god you’re driving me insane!” He groaned out as you turned your head to follow his trajectory. You could physically hear the frustration laced in Jake's tone of voice. “Just cut it out for like five minutes will ya?” Jake tried to level with you the best he could as he went around and grabbed a stray stick, he poked at the fire with it as he watched the bright orange embers fly into the night sky. You scoffed, cleaning the bowls from the delightful dinner of canned chicken soup and roasted vegetables. 
“Bite my fucking ass, Seresin, maybe if you didn’t try to feed me cold inedible canned soup for dinner I wouldn’t be in such a pissy mood!” Jake Seresin had proven himself time and time again—he was a shocking cook. “You barely even followed the instructions! How hard is it to heat up a can of soup!” 
“You haven’t stopped the entire day!” Jake felt his emotions running rampant after an exhausting day or setting up for the trip the three of you had been planning for weeks. You, Jake and Bradley had all aligned your work commitments to spend a few days in the wilderness together, off the grid, no phones and away from prying eyes. It was a much needed break from the world—the navy, F-18’s, commitments and Fanboys latest obsession with the new star wars movie. 
Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, Jake couldn’t help but to raise his voice at you, he poked and prodded with the fire for a few moments more before he let his inhibitions get the better of him. Before Jake really knew what he was doing, his feet were taking him on a mission of their own, marching him over to where you were washing the used pots and pans out 
“I’ve got a headache from your incessant complaining.” Seething, Jake towered over you from behind. His muscular build that rivals Adonis himself blocked the soft light of the moon. Watching as you shrugged him off with a simple eye roll–Jake didn't take well to being shrugged off so nonchalantly like your attitude wasn't a massive pain in his arse. He’d known you for the better half of ten years and you’d always been on his ‘fuck it’ list. 
“Then fucking leave me alone then!? God, it’s like you didn’t beg me to come with you guys even though you damn well know I hate everything associated with camping.” You let Jake have it as you placed the dirty pot you were working on into the soaping lukewarm later before you turned to face Jake completely. “You have a problem with my complaining, but you complaining about my complaining is worse than any complaining I've done.” Jake scoffed as you pushed your index finger into his chest– the action alone made him bite his tongue. He was as hard as a rock and felt like he could snap at any second. He wanted you, so bad. He needed to feel you. 
“Come on Hangman, just let me get this shit done and we can go to bed.” You tried to soften the mood, you could see very clearly in Jake's emerald green eyes that he was ready to fight. His chest was puffed, his feet were firm and his jar was sharp–clenched tight to keep himself from speaking thoughts he only ever thought about when he was alone and jerking himself off into existence. “Go to bed–I'll be right behind you.” You smiled softly before you patted Jake's chest three times with a gently open palm before you turned back to where you had been working away at the dishes. “You know, you’re kinda acting like you want me to bitch and moan your ear off? You shoul–”  Before you could finish your sentence, Jake's large and slightly calloused hand wrapped around your jaw. He covered your mouth as he pressed his chest against your back and held you securely against him by bringing his other arm around your waist. breathing heavily through your nose your eyes widened when you felt Jakes hard on press against the small of your back, you couldn’t process what was happening fast enough. 
Jake had seen his opportunity and taken it. The two of you had always had sexual tension but you refused to do anything about it for the sake of your own image. He was a great friend, a questionable wingman at times, but Jake Seresin had never been a guy on your roster. Until now when your sexual tension reached new peaks and Jake finally cracked under the pressure. 
All it took was an off grid camping trip 
“Maybe I needed an excuse to finally fuck that pretty mouth of yours.” Jake groaned as he felt you shudder under his touch. “I always find myself jerking off to the thought of your lips around me.” His warm breath fanned across the supple skin of your neck before he softly pressed his lips to the juncture of your neck–leaving a gentle kiss against your collarbone that sent instant goosebumps over you like a shock tsunami. “The thought of what your lips would feel like wrapped around me Gigs really makes me question my sanity.” A soft whimper escaped your mouth and vibrated against  the palm of Jake's hand. “But you already know that, you always have, haven't you?” 
“Hey Guys?” Bradley called out from inside the tent to where he knew you and Jake were. All Jake did was press himself further into your back and hold his hand against your mouth a little tighter, willing you to keep quiet as he responded to Rooster.
“What's up Bradshaw, I thought you went to bed ages ago?” 
“Well I tried but your bickering back and forth was kinda hard to ignore–” Neither you nor Jake could contest that statement. “Just try not to kill each other out there, please? And shut the fuck up!” 
“We’re good, aren't we Y/n?” Jake replied as he reluctantly pulled his hand away from your mouth. This was your chance to tell Jake to rack off. This was your chance to tell him you didn't want any of this, that he’d read you wrong and it had all been innocent fun. But he hadn’t read you wrong, you wanted Jake just as badly as he wanted him. You were just too afraid to admit it. 
“Yeah, we’re good.” You added to Jake's surprise. It was all the confirmation he needed. “Night Rooster!” It didn't take long for Jake to spring into action, he was desperate and needed to get you out of his system before you had a chance to fully infect his entire being. If the two of you fucked and got it out of your system, then he could still walk away unscathed. There were feelings bubbling under the surface but Jake Seresin didn't do feelings. 
“Why’d you bring me out here?” You asked as you turned around to face Jake. “You could’ve just asked me to suck you off in the comfort of your own bed?” There wasnt an awful lot of space left between the two of you as you stood shrouded in the soft glow of the moonlight. You made your move and wrapped your arms up and around Jake's shoulders, he followed suit and mirrored your actions by closing the gap, your lips now ghosted his as Jake smiled against you. “I'm sure if you had asked me to, I would have played into your dirty little fantasies.” You could feel Jake trying to kiss you, but much to his display and desperate attempts to feel your lips on his you kept your playful smirk smeared across your face and pulled further away. “I can assure you that whatever fantasy you've concocted that gets you off at night, the real things ten times better.” 
“Just” Jake paused, his hands gripped at your waist to pull you flush against him. He couldn't risk you getting away from him. Not now. “Just didn’t wanna risk the neighbours putting in a noise complaint.” Giggling, you made the move to connect your lips against Jake’s. A heated, passion filled kiss had you both gripping at different parts of each other’s bodies as you walked back closer towards the tent, specifically the fallen tree in front of it.
You pushed Jake down by guiding him with a gentle hand on his shoulder–there was not a single part of his being that objected to your dominance. He felt his dick twitch inside his sweats at the action. You stood before him for a second with a wicked smirk across your face. Jake knew you were into this just as much as he was. 
“Are you just gonna stand there Giggles or are you gonna get to work?” Jake teased you as he trailed a hand up between your legs. “I'm dying here.” You waisted not a second longer as you dropped gracefully to your knees before him. You played with the elastic of Jake's sweats as he helped you wiggled them down his toned and oh so muscular legs–pulling them down towards his ankles until there was nowhere left for them to go except discharged and forgotten about. With a slight chuckle, you gripped his hardened length in your right hand, barely moving your palm up and down his shaft just to watch him swim under your warm touch. 
“Fuck–” Jake sighed in relief as you slowly moved your palm. It was barely nothing, the pad of your thumb swiped across his leaking tip to collect some of his pre cum. The essence of Sersin. “Fucking christ–”  
“Going commando, something you do regularly, Hungman?” You made sure to tease the man putty in your hands before taking his tip in your mouth, you rolled your tongue gently over his flushed tip. Pink and bright and oh so sensitive. The colour of his lips. Sensitive and begging for your unconditional attention. 
“Nah, just somethin’--” Jake couldn't think straight, he couldn’t formulate a full sentence as you worked your hand over him, jerking him off slowly but perfectly. “Oh my god–” Jake moaned, too caught up in the pleasure you were giving him as you took him deeper down your throat, inch by inch, so far down your tiny throat, his manscaped pubic hair tickled the tip of your nose. “Gifs—fuckin’ Christ, where did you learn how to do that?” His voice was raspy and heavy as he tried to control his breathing. His hand made a makeshift ponytail with your hair as you bobbed up and down, gagging softly around Jake's cock as it twitched and leaked pre-cum onto your tongue. With your watery eyes, so lust filled and dowy peering up at him, Jake thought for sure he’d entered the gates of  heaven. 
“Sounds like someone’s a little bit jealous of those who got to cum before you Seresin.” You took Jake's saliva coated cock from your mouth and pumped him with your hand, he watched through hooded eyes as you took both his balls in your mouth softly as you began to glide your tongue gently over the sensitive skin. “Taste so good Jake—“ 
“Fuck—“ This was everything Jake Seresin had fantasised about. “Yess—Y/n, oh my god.'' Jake wasn’t being discreet at all, his moans filled the campground and echoed off the mountains as you jerked his thick throbbing cock and sucked so delicately on his balls. In hindsight, it wasn’t the smartest idea to give Jake head right in front of the tent you both planned on sharing with Bradley Bradshaw. It was needless to say—you’d fucked up. 
As you went back to take Jake entire cock down your throat, you closed your eyes as they watered. Never stopping for a moment to see the familiar silhouette of Bradley standing just behind Jake, watching on as his best friend gave some of the sloppiest head to his other best friend he’d ever seen. He didn’t know how to truly feel about the sight unfolding before him, but Rooster surely felt the strain of his sweats becoming a little more noticeable with every passing second. 
The second Jake saw Bradley, he tried shooing him off, mouthing a soft “fuck off” as he tried to hold his orgasm back. He looked sucked out as all hell and you’d only given him head. He didn’t think he was prepared for how you’d feel fluttering around his length. 
“Uhh! Fuck Giggles, keep doin’ that and I’m going to cum down that pretty fucking throat of yours.” Jake confessed, his hand helped to guide your head down his shaft as you gagged and hummed around him. Bradley’s eyes widened as he made himself scarce, shocked at the sight he just saw. He couldn’t see you like that, he wasn’t Jake. He couldn’t take advantage of you. He couldn’t ruin you like he’d always wanted to. 
“That’s the point Jake, don’t hold back, flood my throat.” You looked up through your lashes, looked up to see Jake's flushed face as his mouth fell open into an O shape, his eyes trained on you as you went back to furiously sucking his cock, hard and fast. Your other hand continued fondling his balls, squeezing them slightly as his orgasm approached. 
“Fuck! Shit, ahhh- Y/n m’cumming, fuck, fuck ohhhh—!” Jake's orgasm washed over him. He could feel the pool at the base of his shaft beginning to overflow, ready to explode. When he did he shot deep down your throat in hot spirits as his cock twitched in your mouth. Jake's entire body stilled as he fell victim to his orgasm, the intense wave of pleasure took over his entire being as he let out a prolonged moan. All consuming. 
“Holy fuck.” Jake sighed heavily as he tried to catch his breath after coming down from his high. He watched as you swallowed his entire load, licking the tip of his swollen length,  making sure nothing was left behind, that nothing was wasted.
“Did that live up to all those naughty thoughts?” You questioned as you sat back on your heels, watching as Jake pulled his sweatpants back up his toned legs—missing the sight of him the second he was covered. 
“Oh” Jake exclaimed, a smile appeared wide and wild on his crimson flushed face as his free hand worked to push back his slightly damp hair. “That exceeded everything I ever thought it would be like.” You nodded, proud of your efforts as you rose to your feet, standing between Jake's legs as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His hands immediately helped your hips still so you couldn’t move. 
He wasn’t done with you yet. 
“Hope it doesn’t change anything between us?” You asked softly, leaning over to plant your lips against his, the slight taste of his cum still evident and present on your swollen lips. Tasting himself for the first time, Jake didn’t quite mind. It made his heart pump with lust and adrenaline as anticipation for what was to come lingered in the air. 
“That won’t change anything.” He whispered into your open mouth, his forehead rested against yours as you maneuvered yourself down to straddle his waist. “But once I watch you suck Rooster off while I fuck that tight cunt I know you’ve got, might be a different story.” Before you could answer, you heard what sounded like Bradleys metal water bottle falling to the ground from inside the tent.
“What!?” Bradley shouted as you did the same, only softer yet just as confused. Jake didn’t just say that—did he? 
“C’mon Gigs,” Jake smirked as he placed some of your freely flowing hair behind your ear. “Bradley saw what you just did and I know he has the same twisted thoughts as me, s’not fair now is it?”
You didn’t respond right away as Jake moved your jumper to the side and kissed at your collarbone—the moonlight danced across his tones shoulders as you mulled over his proposal. To be completely objectifying, Bradley Bradshaw was incredibly attractive. You couldn’t deny you’d thought about him from time to time when you found yourself alone and in need of a release. You just thought it was completely out of the realm of possibility. 
Turns out with Jake's help, it wasn’t. 
“I guess not.” You answered meekly before kissing Jake once more, your tongue dancing with his gracefully, like you were searching for his soul and he yours. Jake waisted not a second more as he picked you up and had you straddle his waist. He walked you over to the small two-man that was inevitably going to be a three man tent and dropped you to your feet at the door. 
“Bradshaw, you have a total of five seconds to open this door before I change my mind on sharing.” As Jake spoke through the tent door, you began taking your jumper off, exposing your bare chest to him, his jaw hanging open when he noticed your perky tits. Kissed by the chill of the cool night. 
“Oh fuck.” His voice was unrecognisably low and full of lust. “Maybe I shouldn’t be so keen on sharing you.” His hand came out to grip your right nipple between his index finger and thumb as Bradley opened the door, already naked and hard as ever. A slight wince left your lips from the sudden pinch Jake gave your nipple as he rolled it between the pads of his index finger and thumb. 
“I uh—“ Bradley stuttered, rubbed at the back of his head like a school boy who’d been caught writing crude and inappropriate comments on his desk. “I was already jerking off after I saw you take Jake balls deep in your throat.” Bradleys cock twitched against his lower abdomen as he sat back awkwardly. He’d only reached up to unzip the tent door. 
Jake pulled hard against your nipple, making you walk closer to him before shoving you gently into the tent, a sinful smile grew upon your face as Bradley lost his positioning and fell back, welcoming you into the tiny room as he reached out to stop you from falling on top of his. He looked all kinds of nervous, worried even. 
“S’okay Rooster.” You cooed innocently enough for him to let his guard down slightly. “I promise I won't bite unless you want me to.” You teased, dropping to your knees before him while Bradley worked quickly to lay down on his back, hands resting behind his head. 
“I can't believe we’re fucking doing this? This is crazy we shouldn’t I mean, c’mon Jake it's Y/n for fuck sake, she’s our bes–” Bradley couldnt finish his sentence, the second your lips were taking the tip of his throbbing length inside your warm mouth he lost all sense of insecurity about the situation. Nothing else mattered expert for your excerpt touch. The sensation of euphoria you bought him. “Oh holy shit” Your hand wrapped tightly around the base of this shaft as your tongue ran up the thick vein that ran up his entire shaft. Your lips felt heavenly around his sensitive and exposed, pre-cum covered tip and before Rooster could even wrap his mind around what it truly was extracurricular activities he was about to engage in–you had sunk lower and lower, taking every inch of his thick cock in your mouth. 
Without hesitation. 
Bradley tip was slightly darker than Jakes, you didn’t need much time at all for your throat to adjust to the foreign object making its presence known in the back of your throat over and over again due to you just having just finished sucking the life from Jake. You were prepped and ready to be whatever they needed you to be under the stars and away from the hullabaloo of Miramar. Tonight you weren't Lieutenant Y/n Giggles Y/L/N–you were Hangman and Roosters little fuck toy. 
You got to work in no time, gagging and roughly sucking up and down Bradley’s entire shaft, watching through hooded eyes as Bradley moaned and groaned uncontrollably from the pleasure he was receiving. You were between his legs as he reached out for your head, guiding you down his length. You felt Jake's hands come to the waistband of your sweatpants, he pulled them down as your mouth continued to bob up and down on Bradley’s cock. 
“Huh?'' Jake scoffed as he bit hard on his bottom lip. “Going commando, something you do regularly, Giggles?” He teased as his large slightly calloused hands slid up and over your peachy ass as it stuck up in the air, ready for his length to slide in your drenched cunt. Smiling around Bradley’s cock you gaged slightly. Pumping Bradley’s shaft with your hand as you went to answer Jake. You could very much feel his tip gliding over your dripping lips from behind. You were ready and oh so needy for him to fill your needy little pussy. 
“Nah, just something—“ You began to mimic what Hangman had told you before, but you didn't have enough time to give him attitude before you felt Jake push himself between your slick folds. He trusted his thick cock inside you, slowly, he stretched your tight pussy out so much so it almost stung. But it felt good, oh so fucking good.  “Ahhh fuck!” You cried around Bradley’s cock now balls deep down your throat. It was a position you never thought you’d find yourself in. Sucking Bradley’s cock while Jake took you from behind, taking both your best friends at the same time.
“You like this Y/n? like how we both fuck you?“ Jake asked as he bottomed out inside your tight cunt, he could feel you clench around the bottom of his cock, tip pressed against your cervix. Bradley roughly pulled you up by your hair, watching as spit trailed from your bottom lip to his swollen tip. With a needy gasp, you looked up at him wickedly, begging him to use you just with a lustful look. 
“Answer the question Y/n, do you like the way we both fuck you?” Bradley’s voice had turned into a low deep growl, his eyes had darkened from the dust brown you were familiar with to a near black mirage, full of lust unlike moments ago when he almost backed out–unsure of the decision he made to fuck his best friend. As Jake's hands gripped your hips and began to thrust faster in and out of you, you moaned in response. 
“Uh huh, l love the way you both feel ohh—god Jake you’re so big, fuck me–” Hearing you moan how big his cock was sent Jake into the stratasphere with his ego in toe, with your encouragement he began to fuck you harder, with more force. Bradley forced your head back down onto his cock, both his hands guiding your head up and down using your hair. Like you were his personal flesh light. 
“You weren’t fucking wrong man, her mouths so damn good.” Bradley’s hips beginning to lift off the ground as he fucked your mouth. Stopping every few minutes to pull you off him just so he could look at how pretty your fucked face looked. Your tears were so beautiful, all because of him. 
“Wait till you feel her tight cunt, fuck so tight its almost hard to move.” Jake was relentlessly pounding into you, the sound of his balls smacking against the curve of your ass could be heard in the silence that lingered between grunts and unapologetically loud moans of pure ecstasy. 
“Jake! Please, I'm gonna cum!” You cried, the coil within your core had begun to tighten every time Jakes tip pressed against your cervix. Bradley sat up, his hand came flying to your mouth as he shoved three of his digits inside your mouth, opening your jaw wide before leaning in close to you.
“That’s it Y/n, cum around Hangman’s cock so I can fuck you harder, fuck you till you black out, fuck you till your begging for me to stop.” Bradleys words had you nearly ascending as he coaxed you towards your high with just his words. “I wanna feel how tight your cunt is.”
“Rooster, choke her when she cums–” Jake ordered, Bradley waisted not a second as he wrapped his hand around throat and pressed his fingers into the side of your supple neck. He reached between your legs to softly rub small circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves, an instantaneous quiver left your throat as his finger made contact, Bradley never for a second took his eyes off yours. He wanted to see you come undone like this, all for him and Jake. Just for him and Jake. 
“Ahh! F-fuck, m’cumming!” You whimpered as Braldey tightened his hold on your throat, he could see the small veins appearing in your forehead from the lack of oxygen but knew by the look in your eyes alone that you were loving this just as much as he was. Your pussy clenching so tightly around Jake's slicked up cock he almost stilled from the grip. 
“Ahh fuck! Rooster, holy fuck she’s like a vice!” Jake groaned as he fucked you hard through your high. “She’s creaming around my dick, fuck—” This had been Jake Seresin greatest idea, to fuck his best friends.
Bradley began to fuck your face with the same fingers he’d teased your clit with, he made you gag on them as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, trembling as you came hard around Jakes cock. Once he saw you coming down from your high, Bradle tentatively removed his hand from around your throat, watching with wide eyes as you gasped heavily for air, welcoming the new wave of oxygen that you’d been deprived of into your lungs. Tears streamed down your fucked out face. 
“Jake let me fuck her—“ Bradley whimpered out desperately as he pumped his cock fast. He waited for Jake to pull out and share, but he was ready to explode. He gripped your chin with a wicked glare as he squashed your lips together. “You don't know what you're in for, baby.”  It was a warning but you quivered with excitement nevertheless before Rooster stuck the pad of his thumb between your lips and spat into your mouth, rubbing your bottom lip with his thumb. “You’re gonna ride my dick.” Bradley told you with no hesitation evident in his tone as you nodded with eagerness. Jake pulled out of you with a hard slap to your right ass cheek, causing you to let out a whine.  
“Ah!” You hissed as the sting lingered well after Jakes had left your ass, you immediately crawled closer to Bradley and straddled his waist, you manoeuvred his length to line up with your creaming entrance. Jake wasted no time in coming to stand above Bradley, his cock throbbing, ready to explode yet again as he moved your sweat covered hair to one side.
“Uhh fuck!” You whined as you sunk onto Bradley’s slightly thicker cock, his hands roamed your naked body as Jake pulled your mouth back onto his cock, needy for your mouth yet again.
“Holy fuck! Ah fuck, fuck, fuck, god you're so tight! So fuckin’ tight Y/n ride my dick just like that, yes—!” Bradley mumbled, continuously biting his bottom lip as he felt you bounce on his cock. He was in heaven, you were the best pussy he’d ever had. 
“Told you.” Jake moaned from above, his hands held onto both sides of your face as he bucked his hips softly into your throat, letting you do most of the work as he focused on chasing his second high of the night. “Slap her ass.” And so Bradley did, he slapped your ass over and over, harder every time you came down on his cock, the sting was so deep you knew you’d have a reminder of the night the come morning.
“Fuck can I cum inside you? fuck please say yes?” Bradley whimpered as you rode him, Jake took his cock from your mouth before slapping it against your open and awaiting tongue.
“Answer him!” He hissed, so close to his second orgasm it was making his eyes water and his knees weak. 
“Y-yes fuck, Rosoter! flood my fucking pussy, please!” You cried out into the secluded tent, completely exhausted and fucked out. Bradley gripped at your hips before bending his knees, fucking up into you so hard and fast you fell forward onto Jakes cock, deep throating him unexpectedly and bringing him to that sweet sweet orgasm he’d been chasing. 
“Oh fuck fuck fuck!” Jake groaned, pulling his cock from your mouth and pulling your hair back, exposing your entire face in front of him as he pumped his throbbing cock in his hand, hot spurts of cum were quick to come flying all over your fucked-out face. “Arrgghhh yes baby that's it, look so pretty covered in my cum.” 
Jakes cum completely covered your face, a facial so thick it dripped down your chin and neck as it slowly made its way to your perky tits. 
“Oh god you look so fucking hot like that.” Jake confessed, running this thumb over your bottom lip to collect some of his cum before making you suck it off. Bradley wasn’t far behind, never slowing his thrust for a second while Jake unloaded all over your face.
“M’cummingRoo! Fuck don’t stop!” You gasped aloud, your voice broke as you reached between Bradley and yourself to rub your throbbing sensitive bud. “Aaah- fuck yes!” You moaned a heavenly near pornographic groan as you came hard around Bradley Bradshaw, squirting unexpectedly all over him in the process.
“Yes! Yes! Oh fuck I’m uhhh—“ Bradley spilled his entire load into your tight cunt, creating a mixture of your cum and his as Jakes dripped from your face down your chest.
“What— what fuck just happened?” You all asked each other as both Jake and Bradley cleaned you off, completely taken aback at the events that had just passed now that your need and lust had begun to fade. 
***~***~***~***
You didn’t know at what part of the movie you fell deep into thought, reminiscing about the camping trip you took a week ago with your best friends but it was the sound of Jake’s voice that brought you out of it, only to realise you had been rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves the entire time, right there on his lounge. Hand sunk low into your sweats. 
“And what do you think you’re doing?” He questioned, leaning against the wall casually before he began sauntering over to you with a devilish smirk upon his face.  
“I uh, I uh don’t” You stuttered, fumbling around as you sat up. You knew you had been caught, but you still tried your best to act like you had no idea what he was talking about. “How long were you just standing there watching me for like some weirdo?” Jake ignored your question. He was on a mission. 
“Were you thinking about our camping trip?” Jake asked as he slowly walked over, unbuckling his belt as you noticed the hard girth showing through his dress pants, having just come back from a meeting. He was so hard it looked painful. It was painful. You looked down at Jake's crotch for a little too long, then up, down then back up, Jake’s eyes had been locked on you the entire time. Working to stand before you—his belt slipping around your neck as he tightened the loop. His hand guided yours over his clothes cock—begging for your touch. 
“Or was it just me?”
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currentlylurking · 11 months
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Thinking about... low stake Fenton Family headcanons. Those kind of things that have no wider world-context when it comes to fic ideas but really speak to their family dynamic.
Like, one of my favourites is that Danny doesn't avoid swearing because it's a kid's show from 2004; he avoids swearing because when he and Jazz were little, Maddie and Jack caught them repeating what what they'd heard from the lab. So they promised their children that if they could make it the next decade or so, until they got their drivers licenses, without swearing in front of them, Maddie and Jack would buy Jazz and Danny each their own car! They assumed the kids would forget before they had to follow through, but Jazz did not. And once she was sixteen, she traded the inability to swear for a car.
Danny can fly. He doesn't technically need to get his driver's license. But by this point he's committed, and won't swear at all - he doesn't want to risk slipping up in front of his parents, and losing his chance at a car!
Another one I really love is that up until he was about ten, Danny spent most of his time at the public pool. Maddie had him and Jazz in baby swim lessons, but Danny loved the water, so she kept him in it. And Danny was an amazing swimmer - he was incredibly fast and by the time he was seven, could dive well enough that there was barely a splash when he hit the water. Danny thrived in the water, and with some guidance, absolutely could have become an olympic level swimmer.
Unfortunately, when he was 10 or so, he mentioned to his parents that the chlorine in the pool hurt his eyes so Jack tried to replace the pool filter with an ecto-based one, which went very badly. And the family was banned from the public pool. They set up a blow-up pool in the backyard for Danny during the summer, but it wasn't the same.
Fortunately, he turned 14 and gained the ability to fly, so he doesn't miss it too much anymore, but Jack does still feel bad.
And of course, the last quality one - none of the Fenton family can cook. Maddie and Jack can bake extremely well, but baking and cooking are different. They like the experiment too much with their cooking, and even without ectoplasm, it usually leaves their food inedible. Jazz can make simple things, like macaroni, but whenever she's tried something more complicated it hasn't gone to plan. She's too much of a perfectionist to risk that.
Danny, meanwhile, has burned soup before and will burn it again. But he's still eaten it. Sam and Tucker have joked about how Danny's tastebuds must've died in the portal too, because there's no way a normal person would eat the kind of things he does, but he's always been like that! He's far too ready to eat almost anything.
It was particularly stressful for his family when Danny was a baby, because it seemed like for the first four years of his life, his sole goal was to eat every single battery he could find.
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lovebugism · 5 months
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hi bug! could i have ditsy!reader with eddie with the prompt “we can put up the christmas lights tonight!”
she’s just the clumsiest bean ever and almost falling off the ladder as she leans across to hang up the lights. and eddie is just gripping onto her waist so incredibly tightly as he doesn’t want his girl to get hurt :((
just something incredibly fluffy!!
ah this is so so cute! i hope you like it :D — you, the clumsiest girl on earth, decorate the munson trailer and make a worrier out of your otherwise carefree boyfriend (ditzy!fem!reader, established relationship, fluff, 1k)
blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
The trailer smells entirely of the holiday season — of vanilla and cinnamon and something somehow sweeter. It’s because Eddie’s burning a batch of sugar cookies in the oven. “Shit, shit, shit,” he mutters as he sits the smoking snowflake pastries on the stove. 
They’re not totally black, so that’s a plus. They may be only slightly inedible, though.
He shakes his pale hand from the oven mitt and figures he’ll have to throw them out before you get to them. He knows you’ll pretend to like them just so you don’t hurt his feelings — too sweet for your own good. 
Eddie’s contemplating this when he notices how quiet the living room has gone. The television plays a muted static, but the lack of your voice is palpable. You’re rarely ever so silent. It’s like every room you’re in glows with the sound of your voice. You only get this quiet when you’re super concentrated.
His head snaps towards the living room — not totally surprised to find you hanging up Christmas lights by yourself but still a little terrified, anyway. His chocolate eyes widen in time with his heart plummeting to his chest.
“I thought we agreed to take a break?” he shouts, rounding the kitchen counter and rushing over to you.
He plants himself in front of the couch you stand on, slightly unstable on the peeling pleather cushion. His ringed fingers are warm on either side of your hips. They clutch you tight with a worry you don’t seem to have.
You string rainbow-colored lights over Wayne’s collection of mugs, leaning over the arm of the couch to fuss with the dangling bits.
Excitement and clumsiness is a dangerous concotion when it comes to you.
“We did, but these were the last things left in the box, and I couldn’t stop thinking about them,” you explain in a tiny, faraway voice — obviously distracted. Your tongue pokes gently from your lips as you try to string lights over the last mug on the left.
“Babe, c’mon,” Eddie urges, voice wavering as his hands grip you tighter.
He doesn’t know if he’s helping as much as he thought he would, or if you feel more comfortable being less careful because you know he’d never let you fall.
Either way, he breathes out a sigh of relief when you stand upright again.
“They were looking at me funny, Eds, I swear!” you say with all your usual dramatics as you turn away from the wall to face him. You’re still standing upright on the old, rickety couch, and he’s still holding tightly onto you.
Your brows are furrowed, your doe eyes wide and twinkling with innocence, and your petaled mouth softly pouted. He couldn’t be angry with you if he tried. You’re too pretty to do anything but love on.
“I believe you, baby,” Eddie assures you with a soft, pink smile. A small chuckle spills from it as he helps you to the ground again, pale palms clutching the outsides of your elbows. 
He keeps holding you like that when you stand in front of him. He gives you a gentle squeeze there and rubs his thumbs over your skin. “Just let me know next time, alright? Before you give me a damn heart attack.”
“But I wasn’t even doing anything,” you insist, still pouting softly but only so he’ll wanna kiss you more.
He pulls you closer by your arms and makes you stumble into his chest. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, sweet thing,” he murmurs lowly to you and with his lips curled into a pretty, lopsided thing.
“It’s just Christmas decorations,” you shrug in a measly voice.
Eddie gives you a hardened look made entirely of melted chocolate.
You cave immediately. 
“I’ll be careful,” you promise.
His big, stupid grin returns to him. “Good,” he hums, right before bending softly down and smacking a kiss to your waiting mouth.
It’s a fleeting peck — a slotting of your lips and a leaving. You can taste the sugary icing on him, anyway. It leaves you buzzing for more when he pulls away.
“I’m gonna put some more cookies in the oven, ‘kay? Give me ten minutes, and we’ll finish decorating, alright? Together.”
He walks backward towards the kitchen. You beam in response. “I’ll go get the ladder so we can do the rest of the lights!” you offer, voice coated with excitement and sunshine.
“Absolutely not!” Eddie exclaims with a chuckle. Your smile ebbs instantly. “Wayne's ladder is older than I am, babe— you’ll definitely break your neck on that thing!”
You roll your sparkling eyes at him. “You’re being dramatic,” you say with a smile and shake of your head.
“I’m serious, babe,” he tells you, gentle but still stern. He tilts his chin to his chest and gives you a deep brown and serious glare. “Don’t make me fight you over this,” he cautions, still playful in his way.
Your cheek falls to your shoulder. You shoot him a teasing smile and cross your arms over your chest. “I’d still win,” you insist in a pretty little voice.
Eddie scoffs and walks the short distance back to you. “Obviously. But with the power of distraction, I’d keep you from climbing your pretty ass on that ladder, so… Who’s the real winner?”
“Still me,” you joke, smiling when he plants another kiss to your mouth.
“How about you come in the kitchen with me then, huh?” he suggests, if only to soothe his anxious heart. “You can sit on the counter and look pretty while I destroy another batch of cookies. I won’t even feel bad if you make fun of me for burning them.”
Your lips purse softly to the side as you think on his offer.
“I’ll give you a kiss for it,” Eddie blurts in attempts to persuade you.
He blinks, and your arms are wrapped around his neck — an embrace most pleasantly suffocating. He laughs softly, with his nose smushed against yours, and wraps his arms around your waist. He lets you kiss him like your life depends on it a second later.
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writingstoraes · 1 year
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three words, eight letters 💌
pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader
type: written imagine
word count: 4.01k (got carried away)
notes: ok ik there are several of this prompt here but i wanted to give it a whirl :]] also in a slump with my ig imagines so i figured i should finish this since its been a draft for such a looong time lolol no warnings, this is just very fluff-coded!
about: the three times charles almost said "i love you," and the one time he finally did.
Charles wanted to tell you the three aching words he's stored in containment. All he wanted was the right time and the perfect moment, but for the love of his and his alone, he just cannot find it.
He had been racking his brain on how to tell you - because when he looks at you, it's like those three words are just going to explode out of his chest. Every time you smile, laugh, or even breathe in his direction, he realizes just how smitten he was for you. He thought about just saying it out of the blue, unplanned but also when the time felt right. But he also thought about going about it as if it were a proposal because you deserve nothing less than the best he can give.
There were times he thought it was too early to say.
You had just been dating a few months in, and though he felt strongly for you and he did love you, he didn't want to say it too fast or too early out of the fear that it might drive you away.
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It's no secret Charles was no chef. He gets a good laugh when other drivers tease him about it but he doesn't pay it any mind. Some people are just good at other things, like how he sucks at cooking but can drive a car that goes as fast as lightning. It is also no secret that he wanted to impress you with skills other than driving - so he doesn't know what entered his mind when he realizes he's on his way to the supermarket as he decides to try and cook dinner.
He scoured the internet for an easy recipe, finally smiling to himself when he finds a simple pasta dish he thinks he can do. To an average person, the dish was really easy to make. So simple that an unsupervised child could follow it. Directions were clear and the website had pictures - he just needs to make a simple sauce, cook some pasta, and grate some cheese. He tells himself nothing could go wrong, what he was about to cook was absolutely just elementary. But he's not an average person, he was Charles, and he is a terrible cook through and through.
Having convinced himself he could cook something so simple, he had forgotten how he messed everything up. He's pretty sure he blacked out, because when he came to his senses, the pasta was overcooked, and the sauce mysteriously evaporated into the air so the pan was just red drops with charred pieces of cheese on the side. He tried to taste it, and he deems it inedible. He was so occupied with cooking it had slipped out of his mind that you were coming over, so the next thing he hears is the sound of your soft knock on his door.
The kitchen was an absolute mess and the apron he wore was extremely dirty — he almost thought about pretending he wasn't home and not answering the door. Of course, he doesn't do that, so he lets you in and the first thing you smell, is cheese.
"Were you cooking?" was the first thing you ask him.
He didn't answer, instead, he planted a chaste kiss on your lips and hurriedly walked back to the kitchen.
He had expected you to laugh once you saw the mess he made by trying to cook just to impress you, but surprisingly, no chuckle erupted out of you.
"Sorry," he says softly, taking off his apron and quickly cleaning up the pots and the bowls he used up.
"I wanted to cook you dinner. I found this recipe online and I thought it was easy," he sighs. "Cooking absolutely hates me. You're okay with getting takeout for now?"
He really did expect you to laugh.
But the second sentence that came out of your mouth: "I'll help you clean up."
It didn't take a lot of time to clean everything up. Thanks to Charles' inability to measure things, he had a ton of extra ingredients, and since he seemed to really like the dish he aspired to cook, you decide to make it for him.
Charles sat at the counter watching you calmly cook the recipe he'd intended to accomplish, your hair parted to the side while you wear the ridiculously messy apron he had worn earlier. He watches you cook the pasta and the sauce at the same time, able to keep your eye on both without neglecting the other. To your defense — the recipe really was easy. But Charles didn't seem to think so, which was why he was sitting on the counter with heart-shaped eyes.
"See, this is what it should look like when the pasta is done cooking," you hold up a piece, cutting it in the middle to show Charles it has cooked through.
"It helps if you check it from time to time if you're not sure. For the sauce, I think you just had your heat on a little too high, but that's okay — you can do it right next time." you smile softly at him, eyes squinting before you shift your attention back to the pan.
Charles had tried cooking before. But up to this day, you were the only one patient enough to actually teach him how. And it didn't help that you looked so beautiful while doing so; hair parted to the side, apron hanging a bit loose on your body, and a smile so captivating it blinds him a little. You weren't perfect, you did laugh at him eventually, but not before guiding him through the recipe he'd chosen. And quite surprisingly, he could cook this same exact dish properly for Arthur next week.
It was clear Charles was no help in the kitchen, so he resorts to hugging you from behind, head resting on your shoulder, breathing slow and steady. He gets a whiff of your shampoo and your perfume he absolutely loved. Your hands soon make their way on top of his that rested on your stomach, thumb rubbing circles on his. Charles was pretty sure you could feel him smile widely behind you, a thought he chooses to ignore because he didn't care anyway, he was at his happiest.
"I lo—" he starts, catching himself off-guard. For a moment, time stops; and he's not sure what to say next. He thought it was too early, but he wanted to say it.
"I love pasta, you know that?" Charles continues, trying to save whatever he's left with. Thankfully, you didn't notice his desperate attempt to cover his supposed mistake.
He tells himself: maybe next time.
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Charles' mother had been pestering him for a long time about meeting you. Every time he came home, he was greeted with, "When am I going to meet your girlfriend?"
Even his brothers, Lorenzo and Arthur, were all so ecstatic about meeting you properly for the first time. The two see you around the track for brief periods of time, but in their defense, you haven't introduced yourself properly to Charles' family. It didn't help that Charles himself talked about you like you hung the moon and stars, and made the universe using your own bare hands, because his whole family, mother and brothers aside, all wanted to meet you.
The two of you were finally headed to Charles' childhood home, finally about to meet his entire family. And the word entire was an understatement because everybody was there. From aunts, cousins, and his nieces and nephews, all of them were anticipating your arrival. A lump forms in your throat just by the thought, but you try to battle it with a deep breath as you fixate your eyes on the mirror.
"Do you think they're going to look at this dress and think it's too revealing? Or too short?" you shout from the closet, straightening out the creases of the crisp white dress you were wearing.
Charles enters the room and he swears he could have just died right then and there. How you manage to take his breath away with minimal effort remained a mystery to him.
"I think..." he drags the second word. "I think they are going to be completely in love with you."
"Hopefully not in the same way I am, because I don't plan on sharing you." he softly chuckles, giving you a reassuring smile.
Technically he had said the l word already but to him, it didn't count, only because he didn't say it to you directly.
An hour into meeting you, the entirety of Charles' family adored you wholeheartedly. He didn't want to give credit to himself but he knew they would find no reason to not love you, though he reminds himself to tell you he told you so when you get some time alone together later. He could listen to his family members praise you all day. You had managed to meet each and every one of his side of the family present at the dinner and Charles could not help but admire how carefree you were at interacting with people he held close to his heart. His mom could not stop raving about how great you were and kept asking why he did not introduce you earlier that it makes her slightly mad, which was followed by a hearty laugh and an assurance that she loved you to bits.
You just managed to dazzle and charm every person you talked to. His brothers adored you and you managed to get along so well with them even if your most apparent common denominator with them was racing. His aunts could not stop telling Charles how beautiful you were and how you seemed to be so kind and fit so well with him. They were already asking Charles when's the next time you visit and you haven't even left his home yet. For some odd reason, you got along well with his uncles, too.
But the cherry on top, the last straw, and the tipping point that tugged the heaviest on the strings of Charles' heart were seeing you with his nieces and nephews. He was fond of children, gleeful every time he sees one on the paddock, especially when they are clad in colors of red and yellow, his team's staple color scheme. However, he never knew how disastrous it would be for him to see you with children.
There you sat on the patio, his niece behind you as she messily tried to braid your hair. You had a big smile on your face, laughing at the somewhat theatrical act his other nephew was performing in front of you. In your hands was a glass cup with gelato and a small spoon, raising the spoon occasionally to feed the little girl tying your hair. His lips slowly form a smile and he feels his chest was bound to explode any time soon. He stood there and realized that he was completely, utterly, and irrevocably in love with all that you are. In other words, he was down bad, and he wouldn't even dare deny it.
After the festivities of getting to know each member of his family, you and Charles were finally given time alone in the kitchen. Everyone else was occupied setting the table and fixing everything up for dinner. You were part of it though, he just found you getting the pies in the oven after you volunteered to do so.
"I told you so," he says, slightly taking you by surprise, not enough you drop the pies though.
You turn to him with a sheepish smile, "Told me what?"
"That they would love you," he replies.
"Well, I am very loveable. Can't blame them."
"I know you are. That's why I lov-" he transitions into telling you what might be one of the most important things he's ever going to say in his life.
"Charles, dinner's ready!" Arthur calls out, cutting his train of thought. The two of you shift your gaze to the dining area, seeing Arthur and Lorenzo waiting for the two of you.
That's why I love you. That was what he wanted to say.
Charles sighs, telling himself that maybe getting cut off was a sign that this was not the right time. He'd repeat himself, but he thinks there are other times when he could tell you he loved you without interruptions.
"What were you saying?" you ask, not wanting to hang him out to dry.
"Oh. I said I know you're loveable. That's why I love seeing you charm every single member of my family."
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Charles was not having the best day. His own team had botched his home race for him once again and on top of that, he had gotten a 3-place grid penalty in Monaco. Don't get him wrong, he was ecstatic to be home. The warm welcome of the fans was unbeatable. Banners, posters, and the Monaco flag waved around the streets of Monte Carlo.
This season has not been good to him so far. So just once, he wishes to catch a break.
The two of you were walking around the paddock as Charles was headed to the Ferrari motorhome to prepare for the race. His hand was on your waist as he guided you in the sea of people. The track was entirely at capacity - engineers, celebrities, VIPs, reporters, you name it. A few meters from the garage, a reporter from a well-known sports channel calls his attention.
It was routine, and Charles was used to it. You were standing not too close beside the cameraman, just watching Charles answer the questions he was asked. The reporter's inquiries were the usual, he had asked how Charles felt about the penalty, how he thinks the car will perform, what upgrades Ferrari is planning on implementing, and all the likes. You watch intently, giving Charles a small smile every time his gaze went your way.
Though the reporter fixated on Charles' "disappointing home race", his words, Charles knew how to handle the questions and answered them composed and professionally. After all, he has been doing this for quite some time. Deep down, it stirred you slightly as it seemed like the reporter was only recognizing the lapses on Charles' side and insinuating that it was entirely his fault.
You tried to pay it no mind until he makes a passing careless and offensive commentary that you could not just let pass.
"I guess some fans were right - monegasques today have nothing to look forward to. Wonder how they feel when their only driver is not only in a horrible car but is tussling with being nothing special."
Nothing special.
Nothing to look forward to.
Something in your ears rang and your vision went dark. You could see Charles' face drop from where you were standing and your heart absolutely broke for him. He proceeds to nod his head toward the cameraman and made haste and you did not hesitate to follow him right away. If you felt distraught and angered after that comment, you wonder just how he felt after hearing it, and at his home race, nonetheless.
"Charles, wait," you jog slightly, seeing as his pace was a lot faster than you. You could tell he just wanted to get out of there. You reach for his hand, tightly grasping it and he stops walking.
"I'm sorry you had to hear that," he says lowly, upset written on his face.
"Why are you sorry? It's his fault. He was offensive and careless. He humiliated you and worse, what he was saying was not true."
"C'est bon." It's okay. You two were finally at the garage, a little far from the reporter. Deep down, though Charles wanted to at least defend himself, he feels all the energy he has left had been sucked out of his body.
"No, it's not. He doesn't know what he's saying. I don't want to let him get away with that, he can't just go around telling people things like that. You may be too nice to tell him off but I'm not."
"You don't deserve this," you say with conviction, walking away from the garage and prepared to give the reporter a piece of your mind.
You don't plan to cause a scene, you knew better than that. You weren't going to shout or curse, but you wanted to get your point across. Soon after Charles follows you, clearly trying to stop you but was too late when he saw you already talking to the reporter. He had no choice but to walk closer to you, grasping on what you were saying.
Your voice wasn’t loud. From where he was standing, he could see how calm and composed you were while you gave the reporter the lecture he was probably not expecting. The track was fairly busy and noisy. You could hear engines starting, and conversations of people he doesn’t know, which caused his inability to understand and hear what you were saying. 
He just stood there - watching you defend him from the asshole of an interviewer, your hands making small gestures for emphasis. The reporter’s face slowly displayed guilt and resentment as if he was clearly affected by whatever it is you said. Soon, the noise around him subsided and the only thing he was able to hear was the last thing you told the reporter. 
“I don’t ever want to hear you talk like that about Charles ever again. If you’re only going to disrespect one of the most hard-working people I know, better to not approach him in the slightest.  He did not pour blood, sweat, and tears into this sport just for you to utter those words to him.” 
Your voice remained soft but it was steady. You turned your heel against the reporter and a cameraman who was clearly surprised by what he just witnessed. You walk back to him, giving him a small smile. 
He wanted to just stand there and stare at you. No one has ever done that for him before. He had his fair share of disrespectful interviewers and questions that downright offended every fiber of his being but he always chose to not pay it any mind. It did not help that you were the kindest person he knew — so seeing you decide right away to defend him like that just made him feel all sorts of things. 
The two of you proceed to walk back to the Ferrari garage, your hand tightly grasped by Charles. At the time, he desperately wanted to embrace you and whisper just how much he loved you. He wanted to drag you to a discreet corner and just hold your face while he tells you the three words he’d been keeping to himself. 
But he remained frozen in awe of you, and so he fails to tell you once again.
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“Can I-” Charles starts, trying his best to get up from the couch. 
“I already told you. The answer is no,” you reply firmly, shifting your gaze to the man with the slightly swollen cheek. 
He huffs a little bit loudly, wanting to show his disappointment.
“Baby, the doctor said no strenuous activities. You just had your wisdom tooth extracted, so no, you can’t go skiing with Joris.” you say as you walk toward the couch, fluffing the pillow his head rested on and putting a soft blanket on top of him. 
“Please just rest. You lie down right where you are and I will be preparing dinner soon. I just have to finish something first.” 
“My favorite?” he asks, putting on the sweet tone you were always soft for.
“Anything for you, my patient.” you smile, planting a kiss on his forehead.
“Okay. I’ll rest,” he sighs, adjusting himself on the couch to face sideways. “You take care of me so well.” 
Charles was under a lot of painkillers. His dentist appointment had been rescheduled hundreds of times as he claims to be too “busy” to get his wisdom tooth extracted. If it weren’t for your incessant nagging because he was already in pain, he probably wouldn’t have pushed through with it. He tried his best to look tough in front of you, but as someone who drove cars that are as fast as lightning, you could tell he was nervous. 
The doctor had to reassure him that there would be anesthesia plus painkillers to combat the pain he would be feeling after. After finding out he was medically allowed to eat a ton of ice cream after the procedure, he was more than happy to oblige.
However, the combination of Charles, anesthesia that’s wearing off, plus painkillers is not equal to a drowsy Charles. He had more energy than usual and was naughtier than normal. In other words, he was hyper. He was not muttering nonsense like the famous wisdom tooth aftermath videos on YouTube nor did he want to sleep all day. He wanted to do so many things he was about to get overstimulated. So no matter how weak in the knees Charles usually made you nor how you always give in when he asks you for something, skiing and going to the gym for a heavy workout after he just had his tooth extracted were just things you cannot say yes to. 
Not long after, the ever so fueled with energy of a boyfriend you had was deep in slumber on the couch. He probably tired himself out from listing a thousand reasons why you have to let him go with Joris and his friends today. He was ceaseless, after all. His lower body was covered with the blanket that you put on him earlier, chest slowly heaving up and down, mouth slightly apart, and lightly snoring. 
He looked so peaceful. For a while, you just sat beside him and went on to study the features of his face. The pointed nose, the tiny freckles that are most evident when the sun hits them, and the eyes that seem to contain galaxies and universes in it. 
“I know you’re staring, chérie,” he quietly says, eyes still closed. 
“No. I’m just checking to see if your face is still swollen.” you reply, playfully rolling your eyes at him. 
“Not swollen. Just say you’re looking for an excuse to study my beautiful face.” he teases, shifting himself so he’s now in a seated position. 
“That’s the anesthesia talking, Charlie,” 
“Wore off already.”
“Fine, I was staring. You’re so pretty, how could I not?” you say, shrugging your shoulders before standing up to prepare dinner. 
“I love you.” Charles says before you could even move away far from the couch where he was seated. 
I love you. 
You stop in your tracks, your back still facing the Monegasque who was clearly waiting for a response yet slightly relieved he told you what he had been wanting to say for a while now. 
“I already know what’s going through your mind,” he says, lightly laughing. “This is not the painkillers nor the anesthesia talking. I’d spent so much time debating on when to tell you.”
“So many accidental “I love you’s” thrown away. Figured there’s never a right time. I love you every single day so why wait for a perfect moment?”
“I love you. So so much.” he repeats. 
You turn to him with a smile you can’t contain, walking over to him and engulfing him in what seemed to be the tightest hug you’d ever given anybody. 
“I hope you know I’m still saying no to the skiing.” you laugh. 
Charles chuckles, and you could feel the vibrations of his laughter from his chest. His grip on you only tightens, sighing in relief. 
“That’s okay. I’d rather be with you anyway.” he says, squeezing you once more before breaking away from your embrace.
“Hmm, swaying me with pretty words, Leclerc?” you raise a brow. 
“Never!” Charles smiles sheepishly as he puts both his hands up in defense. 
“For what it’s worth — though you’re like a child hopped up on sugar earlier, I love you too.” 
-------------
tagging: @slytherheign <3
notes: i think this is my first time writing something this long! i also have a 3.5k word work in progress but i cant find the will to finish it lol very angsty though!
thank u sm for reading and lmk what u think hehe <3 also pls send requests for ig imagines for charles! will try to do it as soon as i can!
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deus-ex-mona · 10 months
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fresh out of hoots to give
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is-this-yuri · 4 months
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i mean i don't think it's evil to give a homeless person food instead of cash, even if the reason is because you don't want them to spend money on drugs or whatever. the BEST thing you can give a homeless person is whatever they need at that moment, and the second best thing is cold hard cash. but when i'm panhandling i'm never going to say no to a snack and i'm still going to be grateful even if i can't eat what they gave me.
today someone gave me a bag with three meals in it, but they were all frozen. i don't have any way to heat this food up that won't make it taste weird (like putting it on my engine or something), so this stuff is inedible to me. i tried all day, but without a microwave it's just. not gonna be good. i'm still grateful that she tried to give me something useful.
i have three pairs of gloves i got for free, and i took them all because who knows what might happen? i might lose two pairs, or they might get holes in them, or it might end up so cold i need three layers of gloves. i might meet someone else who needs gloves.
it's important to acknowledge that not every homeless person can take the food you want to give them, or might not need food because they can get it through other means. it's important to acknowledge that substance abuse issues are more complex than 'if i can't afford it, i'll quit' and that a homeless person drinking some beer or smoking some cigarettes or weed isn't a moral failure or a lack of priorities on their part. it might not even be at the level of substance abuse. at the same time, i don't think you have to give us cash or nothing. give whatever you're willing and able to give.
like it says on my sign, anything helps. yes, cash helps the most, because cash is the gateway to pretty much anything else i could need. but morale helps a lot too. knowing people are kind and willing to give helps. a free bag of cheetos helps.
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see-arcane · 2 years
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OJ and JJ: Why Jean Jacket Let the Haywoods—Especially OJ—Get Away with More Than Anyone Else in “Nope”
I’ve seen Nope twice now. While everyone I saw it with enjoyed it, I heard a few cries of foul when it came to OJ and the others’ improbable good luck with all their near misses interacting with our favorite terrifying gulch-haunting UFO. I call foul back and say plot armor had nothing to do with it. Some luck, yeah, otherwise we’d have no protagonists. But that was hardly all.
Spoilers for Nope below
To be clear, I am absolutely not painting this as the same delusional ‘friendship’ Jupe assumed he had with Jean Jacket. Neither he, nor OJ, nor anyone else is a miraculously endowed animal/alien tamer with an automatic ~*~special bond~*~. It’s one of many points Nope goes out of its way to illustrate. You can only train (or disrespect) an animal so far before they lash out, especially predators, and especially island-sized UFOs with the munchies. But, insomuch as there is any ‘safe’ way to coexist in close proximity with something like Jean Jacket, OJ Haywood is shown to have pulled it off with flying colors. And he did so almost entirely unaware to begin with by dint of his character traits.
That and a combination of Jean Jacket’s own instincts are what likely put him and the people around him in the tiiiny pocket of special allowance JJ deigned to give them over the course of the movie.
Let’s roll back to the first scene with the Haywood Ranch and the death of Otis Sr. A death by falling nickel that happened six months before the present-day events of the film. Just before this, father and son were curious about the screaming in the clouds—a fresh snack of hikers about to be squelched—followed by the rain of inedible bits. We can assume this was Jean Jacket’s first time flying in the gulch, and he chose the Haywood Ranch as The Spot for Purging; just like the hills next to the ranch were chosen for his ‘nest’/hiding place/resting spot.
While Jupe was methodically feeding JJ fresh horses and imagining the big guy trusted him, Jean Jacket kept going home to his actual favorite spot right next to OJ and his horses—a man and his big juicy animals out training in broad daylight, day after day, without ever pestering them. No missing horses. No missing OJ. Despite JJ clearly having opportunity and a taste for both species by that point. Why?
The obvious answer is that OJ kept his head down. Literally. Eyes always on his work, under the shade of his hat bill, maybe glancing at the clouds now and then…but always too far away to agitate. For all that time, he was unconsciously respecting Jean Jacket’s rules. Plus, he was in JJ’s purging/nesting territory first; yes, Jean Jacket was calling dibs on the whole gulch, but if the locals already there aren’t bothering him, fine, sure, they can stay.
The place’s importance to Jean Jacket, OJ’s head-down habits, and the amount of time spent coexisting with each other sans trouble all combined to put OJ and the alien into as close to a neighborly setup as could ever be expected. Don’t fuck with me, I don’t fuck with you.
Then things start picking up. Too much activity, too many new skyward glances from OJ, too many hackles raised with the Star Lasso Experience. And yeah, JJ did almost vacuum OJ up—he infringed on their ‘arrangement’ and looked! The nerve! And after JJ let him get away with hiding under a roof the night he stared up at the dust devil that took the fake horse! How ungrateful!
…A move that, in hindsight, plays almost like a Strike 1 offense, paid back by slurping up the actual horse. OJ’s staring at the Star Lasso arena was likely Strike 2. After snapping at OJ and causing the accidental knockout against the ceiling, JJ flies off without him or Lucky.
Off JJ flies to the Haywood Ranch again, full of screaming people and detritus and huffy extraterrestrial chest-pounding. And what does JJ do? He drops a big bloody purge waterfall directly onto the Haywoods’ house—OJ’s territory-within-JJ’s territory—like the giant alien version of an animal hiking its leg and marking all over a lower-tier animal’s spot.
This is a warning. This is my place. I rule here.
Then, as if holding onto the statue for last (hell, that may have been the real Strike 1), he moves his big flying Roomba self over to OJ’s truck—which I’d bet JJ definitely recognizes after six months—and just hovers. Hovers. Hovers.
Making sure OJ is paying attention. Then he hacks the statue out like a bad loogie right into the windshield. Assuming it didn’t kill his ‘neighbor,’ it would be a fine lesson:
You are on thin ice. Do not cross me again.
Come morning, what do we find out? Not only is Jean Jacket smart enough to know the humans will react when he moves enough to let the electricity fizzle back on, he immediately moves back overhead to stare down at OJ. My guess? It was a test.
You know better, neighbor. What do you do when I am here? What very smart thing have you done in all our quiet time side by side?
And thank God, it does dawn on OJ in time. Do Not Look. No Eyes On JJ.
So he ducks his head. And, even though he caught a very obvious peripheral glimpse, Jean Jacket still lets that slide. Jean Jacket lets OJ, his sister, and Angel—probably his family/pack in JJ’s POV—scurry away in their silly rolling box. We can’t even say it was because Jean Jacket was still full; the big guy looks like he has whole miles of gut to chow down with.
No, he lets OJ and company off with a few warnings, because the arrangement renewed. And off he goes to settle in his cloud again.
Cut to the run.
I sincerely believe that if it had been any other person on the horse, any other person goading Jean Jacket along the run, they would not have lasted a minute. No, not even with their head down. We’ve seen by now just how fast JJ can move, how quick he can flip from zero to I-Will-Knock-You-Back-Like-a-Shrieking-Tic-Tac. And nobody can say they didn’t clench up when they, like OJ, realized Jean Jacket was hovering right behind him like the world’s most ominous frisbee. Ditto the part where JJ slurped up the TMZ jerk barely a yard away from him and Lucky.
Thiiis close to sucking him up. But no. The dust devil got Mr. TMZ with the precision of a straw.
Then we get to the run—OJ on horseback, JJ being JJ, going fast…but almost at his version of a canter. A brisk walking pace.
That much might be owed to the fact that, unlike all his other prey, the people/horses have gotten a good look at Jean Jacket, then turned to run. With OJ’s staring hoodie, he’s retreating while still looking at/challenging JJ. That’s new! That implies Jean Jacket’s neighbor has his hackles up even as he moves away!
So Jean Jacket gives a comparatively leisurely chase. Then, just when he gets fed up and goes for the vacuum maneuver—surprise! Flags everywhere! Jean Jacket freaks out as expected, twisting away rather than risk gulping up another bad meal. What the hell, OJ, why didn’t you warn JJ you were a statue this whole time?
And, finally, the climax.
OJ looks at Jean Jacket dead on, still sitting on the flag-strung Lucky. This is when Jean Jacket has completely unfolded into what looks like a full intimidation display. These tiny two-legged things have turned into a big flag-covered, barbed wired headache for Jean Jacket. Perhaps even a threat. It’s down to a fight for the territory in JJ’s perspective. Someone has to go. And OJ, the one he ‘knows’ best, the one that had respected and been respected by Jean Jacket most, like two sullen predators in the same cage mutually agreeing not to bother the other, is the one metaphorically baring his teeth first.
Even as he flexes all his freaky jellyfish anatomy, Jean Jacket hesitates.  
Does he think this is OJ warning him away? Or is he really instigating a fight to the finish? …Is there a chance OJ could win?
Even when, finally, OJ does begin drawing him along, away from Em’s bike, we never see JJ strike out with his appendages or make another dust devil. He’ll match OJ’s staring contest, he’ll creep closer, but he does not lash out.
It’s only when Em revs up and takes off for Jupiter’s Claim that Jean Jacket gambles on pursuing what he (mis)takes for the less worrisome Haywood. Simply because she looked at him and fled? Because JJ wants another warning to spit up for OJ later? No way to know.
All we see is that OJ, by a mix of hair-thin good fortune and animal training experience, managed to live with, counter, and psych out Jean Jacket enough to earn the man-eating megafauna’s tolerance and enough respect that it edged near worry.
tl;dr: No, OJ was not a magical horse/alien whisperer. But he did gain enough of Jean Jacket’s esteem to give him the best odds of survival, cohabitation and manipulation, simply by being himself, being respectful of the ‘rules’ once he knew them, and being cool as hell while everyone else fell apart or got slurped.
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