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rebeliz7 · 8 months

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LITTLE PIECE OF HEAVEN

Natasha Romanoff x Pregnant Reader

Word Count: 1881

Request: Hey! Could you do a Nat fic where reader is pregnant and Natasha is so scared of hurting the baby that they don’t have sex anymore and reader gets frustrated?

Warning: 18+ content - NSFW

“Are you looking for something specific?” A girl no older than twenty three asks you, and you have to admit that the look of utter kindness on her face makes you want to run in the opposite direction.

You’re an adult for Christ sake, surely you can buy a sex toy without getting flustered like this.

You smile at her before setting the red dildo back on the stand, and when the thing wiggles you blush a vibrant red, almost matching it.

“Not really.” You speak, and clear your throat immediately after. God, this is mortifying! “My wife usually does the shopping.”

The girl in front of you nods understandably, and you look down at your feet hoping that the ground would swallow you whole.

“Don’t worry.” She says, and her voice is quite soothing. You realize that she’s one of those people that makes you feel comfortable and safe, no matter the situation you’re in. “My name is Jane, and I’d be happy to help you find something, if it’s okay with you.”

“Please.” You practically groan, and as she smiles her eyes fall down on your belly for a second, and your hands immediately come to rest on top of it. “I’ll be seven months along next week.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.” She apologizes quickly, and it’s your turn to placate her.

“Don’t worry. I’ve gotten quite used to it.” You tell her as your baby begins to move, your guess is that she’s turning over. “She’s moving.” You smile, and Jane’s smile is delightful. Even more so when you take her hand, and place it on your belly. Which has become a habit of sorts as of late. Your wife’s friends are always eager to feel your baby moving after all.

“Oh my God.” She smiles, as your baby kicks and you do too. “That’s amazing.” Jane says, taking her hand back.

“Yeah.” You nod, but the moment you look to your right and find a purple dildo the size of your arm you remember where you are, and why you came here.

“You and your wife are very lucky.” Jane says, and you huff without really thinking about your answer.

“I wish I was getting lucky, if you know what I mean.” The moment Jane’s eyes widen you realize what you just said, and you’re back to blushing madly. “I’m so sorry. That was so inappropriate. I don’t even know why I said it. I’m so sorry.”

“You know what?” Jane interrupts you, still cool and collected. “I know just what you need.” She says, and with a grimace you follow her to the back of the store.

…

The moment you get home you’re a hundred percent ready to break in your new acquisition, and you don’t even feel bad about it. It’s been months since you had a decent orgasm, and you need it, you so need it.

You have a quick shower, and make sure the cat has food and water before you lock yourself in your room. You turn off your phone so nothing can interrupt you while you do what you have to do. It’s a matter of health at this point, because you’re losing your mind, no question about it.

First you sit down with your laptop to do a bit of research, and your anxiousness only gets worse the more you read the reviews on your new toy. It seems like you got yourself a very useful item indeed.

Without waiting another second you go about undressing yourself before opening the box with the new toy in it, and if you’re blushing it’s okay because no one can see you in the privacy of your own bedroom anyway.

“Okay. Let’s do this.” You murmur as you lay down, and God you should be ashamed of how wet the sight of it is making you, but you’re not.

You take a moment to rub it in your hands to warm it up, but the more you rub it the more your mind goes places, and you wish your wife was here. You wish she was kissing your neck, her hands on your breasts, her naked body rubbing against yours…

But Natasha is simply not interested in having sex with you now that you’re showing.

“Not going there.” You murmur to yourself, because you don’t need to dwell anymore about why she’s so afraid of having sex with you nowadays. You just want to get on with it because on top of everything, it seems like your libido is off the charts too.

Closing your eyes, you finally let your hand dip down between your legs, your index finger brushing against your already swollen clit.

“Oh God.” You moan softly, and even more so when you find yourself dripping wet. It’s been months since you had a decent orgasm and that’s all you can think about.

With your free hand you take the toy between your legs, letting its prominent head rub over your slit before you gently insert it.

“Oh, God!” You scream, as it rubs you exactly where you need it. You squeeze the sheets with your free hand as your hips push against the mattress, and you push the toy a little deeper.

With a feral scream ripping through your lips, you come unexpectedly, and so incredibly fast that you immediately throw the damn thing away in fear.

That thing is surely witchcraft!

“Oh my God!” You scream in your empty room as the toy hits the floor, and your inner walls continue to shiver, and clench around nothing. “Oh my God!”

Once the force of that first orgasm begins to fade away you realize that in your frenzy you completely relocated to a different part of your bed. And you’re squeezing the living hell out of a pillow but once the surprise, and slight terror of the strength of that orgasm is completely gone you decide that you want more.

Witchcraft or not.

…

It’s between your fifth or sixth orgasm that the door to your bedroom is kicked in, and your wife rushes inside with a gun in her hands, and the sight makes you come harder than any of the previous times did.

“Are you serious?” She half yells at your direction, but not even her anger is enough to wipe the smile off your face right now.

“I thought you were gonna be late.” You tell her, as your entire body shivers and you finally, set the toy on your nightstand.

You’ll clean everything up later. God, you’ll clean the entire house later. You’ll cook dinner, and arrange your wedding photo album too. You’ll bake cookies, and go visit your mother too.

“You weren’t picking up your phone. I thought something happened to you!” Natasha says, as she goes about your bedroom, gun still in her hands, swallowing thickly when her eyes can no longer ignore your naked body.

“Something did.” You smile goofily up at her. “I found the perfect dildo, Nat.” You chuckle, and she sits down on the edge of the bed, her upset slowly turning into amusement.

“You did, huh?” She asks, eyeing said item on the nightstand as she places her gun next to it. “I can’t believe you went shopping without me.”

“It was either that, or die of sexual frustration.” You point out.

“Come on.” She says as she looks away, and you grab her arm to pull her closer.

She leans forward willingly, her eyes taking in your chest, your lips, your glistening skin, and a spark runs in between your legs at the sight of her darkening gaze trained on your lips.

“You don’t think I’m sexually frustrated too?” She asks softly, her hot breath ghosting over your lips as she speaks. “You have no idea of how badly I want to fuck you right now.”

“Why don’t you?” You ask, as you pull her harder, and her full lips finally press against yours in a heated kiss.

Your breath leaves you when she kisses you like this, forceful and urgent, as if she wants to devour you. As if this is exactly what she wants to be doing now and forever.

“What if we hurt her?” She asks suddenly, and she’s already pulling back, a deep frown forming on her forehead. “What if something happens?”

“Natasha, stop it.” You order her, and her lips fall shut but the frown on her face doesn’t go away.

“I just don’t want to hurt her.”

“You’re hurting me!” You pointedly tell her. “I had to go to a sex shop today, on my own. I had to go and get something to masturbate with because my wife is too afraid of hurting our unborn child to even touch me with a ten foot pole.”

“You know I love you.” She tells you, pointedly too. “And I want you. You’re the only person I want to be with but...”

“When you say ‘but’ right there, Nat... fuck! I don’t know what’s wrong with me, or why I’m so horny lately. Maybe it has to do with the pregnancy or something, but damn it! I should be able to count on you. You’re my wife!”

“You can count on me.” She tells you, and you notice the hurt in her voice.

“No, Nat. I had to count on a girl named Jane who recommended I buy a freaking toy, and the reason why you’re seeing me naked right now is because you thought someone was attacking me.”

“That’s not - ” she trails off.

“That’s what it is.” You tell her, but not unkindly.

“I want you. I do.” She says as you sit up, and maneuver yourself onto her lap.

“Then show me.”

“Tell me you understand where I’m coming from, please.” She begs as you cup her face, and her hands fall on your waist before she’s touching every inch that she can reach.

“I do.” You assure her, and not because she needs to hear it but because you really do. You know how fiercely she loves you, and how uncontrollably she desires you. You know because she does show you in so many other ways that aren’t sex.

“I’m yours. Every part of me is yours. You know that, right?” She pleads to know, and God! You love her so much. Even though she’s denied you sex for the last couple of months, because of a fear that goes way deeper than what she’s letting on.

“You’re gonna be a great mom, Romanoff.” You grin down at her, and her green eyes spark with joy as her hands pull you harder against her.

“You just want to get laid.” She teases you, the mood changing once more.

“Sorry, babe. But you have to know that your mouth, and fingers have nothing on that little piece of heaven.” You tease her right back.

“Oh, really.” She taunts, and when you reach out to grab the toy from the nightstand she flips you, pinning your hands down on the mattress beneath her. “We’ll see about that.”

Ok, so maybe buying a toy, and using it home alone was part of a very meticulously thought out plan, and maybe that plan worked out perfectly for you.

…

#natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff

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1-49 · 2 months

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third times’s a charm

pairing: f!reader × chanyoung, sungchan ⁝ tags: rain. tokyo. & love at first sight / fluff. gets lil angsty. wc. 3.1k

note: this has been in my drafts ever since those two pictures dropped, & basically, this whole thing is just an extension of what sorta of mood they inspired. ik it’s kind of late but i love the atmosphere, so im posting it anyway.

All this waiting ─── Holding out for the storm to pass. Stuck in traffic and waiting. Waiting for the bus at a crowded bus stop.

Since the idiotic weather app on your phone was unable to foresee such a severe downpour, you are without an umbrella. You find yourself standing like a cat caught in the rain after spending a perfect sunny afternoon exploring Tokyo’s streets.

Neither the metro nor the two buses that have come & gone are going in your direction. More room and privacy for yourself as the majority of passengers board the buses and lessen the crowded, small, glassed station—for which you are grateful. After trying your luck twice, you are stuck waiting for the third bus.

The peculiar scent of rain on asphalt fills your nostrils as you accept your bad luck & attempt to take solace in the rain, the foggy lights of the passing traffic & the bright neon signs that give the city its unique flavor. There are a variety of sounds in the street, ranging from soft and loud to melodic and even disorienting.

You seem like such a loser out in the rain. The end effect of running so fast and not caring where you step is clumps of hair and muddy shoes, followed by ten minutes of waiting. You are glad you didn’t wear too much makeup for today’s walk because you’d have looked like a total wreck. Smugly, you try to adjust your mascara and eyeshadow in your little mirror and pretend it’s fine.

And so, you concentrate on the raindrops as they land in a specific dip in the pavement, creating tiny air bubbles that rise to the surface like bubbles in a champagne glass. This little world seems to be what fascinates you about Tokyo at the moment, despite its vast size.

That is when the two giants casually stroll into the safe haven you have found in all the fast life.

The two towering frames jostle one another in this terrifying performance that the sky is putting on, laughing at something so ridiculous that you have to wonder how they can do it. The evening sky is practically ripping at its seams, but they do not seem to notice.

Their laughter is contagious as they battle for space under a transparent umbrella that the taller one is holding. Their bodies are too broad for the protective gear, and they seem to lose simultaneously because most of their opposing shoulders and arms are soaked. For the tiny spaciousness they seek but don’t find, the pair comes across as endearing and humorous. You realize there is beauty in the fact that neither of them seems to mind. They remain upbeat and truly unaffected, which is inspiring.

That they are close friends is highly likely. They are even dressed alike. One is wearing green cargo pants and the other over-dye jeans, both with black upper apparel.

They could be mistaken for twins due to their dangerous synchronicity. Not like born together. Not fused like the two sides of an oyster encasing a precious pearl. However, exactly opposites, much like the two sides of a mirror. Equally stunning, and in their case, the pearl is their friendship.

The sounds of the city fade, and you feel every nook and cranny in your body thudding as you witness them make the spontaneous decision to wait for a bus.

The ‘polar twins’ resemblance they give off is unfair.

While the cargo boy’s carefree demeanor gives hours of silly photos and odd Tik Toks, funny videos, and Twitter drama, the headphones hanging around his neck pay close and serious attention to music, which you thoroughly appreciate. This particular aspect of him almost instantly makes you fall in love.

But the taller boy doesn’t fall behind either;

he closes the umbrella as soon as he enters the glassed area. His hand clasped around his brown cashmere cardigan radiates warmth and comfort, and his strikingly bare collarbones radiate needs and dreams. His contradictory aura clouds your judgment and prevents you from making further assumptions about his interests in basketball, games, and literature.

The tip of the umberlla accidentally bumps into your arm when he closes it, revealing his slight clumsiness.

His regret is evident in his eyebrows even before he says, “Sorry.” His eyes widen with it. Lovely and compassionate, with a hint of mocha. Like there is freshly brewed coffee swirling around inside his crystals.

Sparks shimmer up your arms as you watch and listen to his apology and say that it’s nothing.

The music boy’s position is to your left, as the ‘clumsy’ guy shifts to your right, which he does not realize until he apologizes.

With obvious happiness, the music boy inserts himself and begins to tease him. “He acts that way all the time, so don’t worry. If his good looks don’t work to get him noticed, he will try playing on his clumsiness.”

You can be sure that the ‘clumsy’ guy is pouting and sulking over the nonsense that was just said, even though your eyes are finally turning to the person who is seeking them.

There is an eternal smile on the face of the goofier of the two. One of those smiles that can break through the clouds and stop the rain. A ray of light, really. He breaks through the barriers of your heart with his quiet voice too. The fact that he can capture your heart with such ease and beauty is just a crime.

They may have looked the same in one frame, but now that they are essentially standing on either side of you, they are starting to show more of their charm. It gets harder to be between two extremely attractive giants as their individuality starts to emerge.

You have a sneaking suspicion that the boy you are looking at is the younger one.

And while the bright colors of the city match his mischievousness, his confidence has a short fuse. This becomes apparent when he stops coming up with new jokes for his friend and stays staring at you for longer than fifty seconds.

Before you know what the two of you are doing, his smile spreads across your face like sunlight does on tulips in the early spring. It’s an inadvertent eye lock until he realizes it’s too much. It really melts your heart to discover that he is a shyer one, and you end up melting right into the rain puddle that is at your feet.

You then take up your previous posture, facing forward. For a brief while, they distracted you from the fact that you were waiting for a bus to the hotel. As you take a big swallow, there is an odd quietness among the three of you.

You cannot help but wish that some of them would speak up and say something. Why you want this to go on is beyond you, but you want it to. Their bodies radiate a warmth that suffocates you while simultaneously providing warmth against the chilly autumn breeze. This brings you back to the point where you’re mentally cursing your app for tricking you because you were totally unprepared for today’s outing.

‘Soft eyes’, as in literally, hands you the sweather he was holding as soon as he notices that you’re shivering.

It pains you to try to turn down his offer, but you do.

Still, he refuses to accept it. “You can give it back as soon as one of our buses arrives. Keep it till then.” Ignoring your protests, he carefully places the soft wool in your hands. You have no choice but to comply with his insistence. “Besides, I don’t need it.”

You raise your gaze to him and once more meet his eyes—this time with a smile added.

You remember that when he bumped into you, he was trying to hide a smile so that he could apologize more sincerely, which means you haven’t been a witness to his smile just yet.

However, his smile has the same profound effect on you as the guy on the other side. You are sure the sun is in his heart too, just as much as it’s in his eyes. His kindness is his beauty. Very soft; almost as soft as a ball of cashmere, or similar to his cardigan’s overly long sleeves as you play with them.

Given their earlier recklessness, you would never have trusted two random boys to be this kind. So gracious as to lay you two of their favorite accessories in your possession.

One is keeping you warm, and the other, after being prodded to share the song he has been working on, is putting his headphones on you and letting his joy seep through your ears to your bones.

Feeling a little more shy, his breath hits your face, tense and warm as he’s inside. He is pulsing with understanding so as not to invade your personal space while practically failing. As if you couldn’t have done it yourself, he decides to put his headphones on you abruptly. A current is all that is moving him, and not a single conscious brain cell is applying any kind of brake.

The color hits his cheeks when your gaze meets halfway again. He’s being cheeky, though, when he asks, “Are you ready?” while towering over you.

He presses play on the song he composed after you nod with equal enthusiasm.

With the ‘soft guy’ on the right, you’re a little more confident, but when it comes to the ‘shy boy’ in front, you are a complete mess. The prospect that he’s equally as wreaked as you are is the primary cause of your emotions. They are deeply affecting you both, and even though you would prefer to hide in the next bush, you are pursuing each other naively and playfully.

Your smiles are getting bigger as you gaze at one another, but his is weaker, more fragile, as in ‘until the piece I composed gets your pass, I am afraid.’

You close your eyes because you don’t have enough in you to match that.

The outside world ceases to matter as the ambient composition intensifies and begins to resolve inside you.

You explode at the slightest touch from a ‘soft boy’ who leans in close and tries to listen through your headphones.

Since he also expressed dissatisfaction over never having heard the music, you try to be understanding and let him into your space too. He was unable to listen to it earlier due to the ‘it is not completed’ statements. This was his chance. And so, you acknowledge that this evening, everything came together to allow the two of you to feel the excitement of being the first to hear something so exquisite.

The storm itself, you can swear, ceased.

Though the sound of life is muffled by the composition in your eardrums, you can somewhat hear three heartbeats pounding in time with the music. It feels as though nothing matters and yet everything has led up to this.

‘Music boy’ watches your reactions as both of you remain silent, neither of you speaking to disturb the bliss.

This rescue is slow-moving and pleasant compared to Tokyo’s fast life. You find a brief moment of inner tranquility after so much running, fury at the weather, and anger towards the electronic device in your back pocket.

Entirely, you lose yourself in the song, and the way your lashes curl to soften the likely pictures that appear beneath your lids is proof of this. It seems that even in Tokyo, things can come to a stop.

Like a drop of rain in the countryside, your smile is sincere and pure. That is what he has composed, and that is what this is. He has awakened that within you.

Clarity and translucence—opposing to the densely scented city air, which is heavy with the smell of burned street meat and motor oil.

As distinct as the boys standing next to you, everything has a raw beauty.

When you turn to face the taller one, you find that your noses are almost in contact because of how close the headphones have brought his face to yours.

His most beautiful features are dripping with admiration as he gives you the thumbs up. Although you find the signal confusing, you nod because you think it is abrupt and cute.

Upon turning to face the musical prodigy as you currently perceive him—you having no prior knowledge of him—he grins more than ever.

With great anticipation, he asks, “And!?”

“I wish I had a better word to describe it, but it is rather majestic. The melody is lovely and seems to pour love and tranquility indefinitely. It made me feel better. Basically, thank you, is all I have to say.”

“It truly did the same for me,” remarks the tall guy, nodding. “You know, he never lets us listen to his music,” he adds, moving in closer to give the younger person a sweet shoulder shake. “This guy!!”

They both laugh it off, just like they did when they walked in beside you. They are unaware that, with those smiles, they have taken everything from you. However, as soon as you peek at the bus in the distance, read aloud your hotel’s street address, and confirm that it is your route, their smiles become lifeless and hollow almost instantly. In the same instant, the hope that they both brought about vanishes. There is a bittersweet sensation.

Even though you all know the end is near, it seems like no one anticipated it.

All of it comes crashing down: the rain, the hope, the magic, and all three of your desperate sets of eyes that cannot stop staring into each other’s faces. Each microsecond, millisecond, and second matters. Everything was brief at first, then prolonged, and finally just brief again.

“It’s time to return this,” you utter as you remove the cardigan.

Given how chilly the owner’s hands are once you skin-brush them, the wool should feel even warmer in his hands after you return it.

“You must have frozen because of me,” you point out, brows knitted in concern. “I am so sor—”

“No, I am fine, don’t apologize,” he cuts in, unlocking the umbrella as he comes to his senses and accepts the arrival of reality. To protect you from the rain until you board the bus, he says, “Here,” giving you room to move under the umbrella.

Initially, you pout, believing that rejecting him would be best, but eventually, you stop yourself and follow his instructions exactly. It’s time to savor every moment, even if it’s just spending a little time together under an umbrella, before you part ways with them and never see them again.

You remove your headphones and give them back to the cutest prodigy you have ever met. “You should start having more faith in the things you create. That was really beautiful.”

“Thank you!!” The umbrella boy exclaims in his name. “Someone at last to make him begin to realize.”

The younger boy defends himself, smiling, “Shut up.” And, even though he’s well aware that the umbrella was never meant to fit both of them, much less three people, he’s still attempting to squeeze himself under it.

You guys are all biting smiles; there is such innocence and purity to the compressed situation all of you are in. This feeling is far more intense than what you experienced as a teenager witnessing your crash in the hallways. Greater than the scorching feeling you experienced on your first kiss. Which, on the other hand, makes this even more heartbreaking than the first time your heart broke. There is something odd about it all, and it has been a long day at that.

You stay sandwiched between their bodies, which rise on both sides of you as sturdy as a brick wall. You regretfully realize that you cannot be imprisoned between them forever, even though for a brief moment you wish you could.

You can sense the peculiar chemistry has subdued the storm, and it even appears to be stopping the rain. And as it draws near the bus stop, the bus finally lets out its sharp, piercing ‘pissss’ sound. You’re thinking somewhere in the back of your mind about how this sound is going to become your least favorite sound. The noise that will always bother you the most because it’s ruining something so beautiful.

When you look into their faces, all you see is gold dust smeared in their eyes. “I’m glad our paths crossed,” you eventually admit.

They return with the same admiration, though with a sorrowful smile.

They wait until after you get on the bus. They wait for you to get comfortable, knowing that you will take their side and catch your farewell look out the window.

That is precisely what you do; you approach the first seat with that same thought in mind. Rain cascades down the glass, and the windows are a little foggy and difficult to see through due to the warmth inside.

Inside and around your heart, there is a heavy, funny feeling. You make an effort to clear the fog from the window but the moment feels so so hopeless as the bus starts to move. In actuality, all you’re doing is wiping the mist as you attempt to wave goodbye and get a good look at them for the last time. Still, it’s too late.

All that is left to do is gaze for a brief while at the vanishing landscape, registering absolutely nothing.

Finally, you tilt your head back and sigh at the biggest sigh ever. There is a distant echo of a Japanese woman’s voice coming from the bus radio. When you turn on your phone, the first thing you see is your camera folder.

It’s inexplicable why you thought it was necessary to take a picture of them with your phone while simultaneously taking one with theirs. You are left puzzled, staring at the most recent two pictures in your folder.

‘Love is a captured moment,’ you used to say. You get the impression that life is making fun of you.

It becomes really annoying to swipe between the two photos. Their boyfriend vibe is unmatched. Imagination takes over. It seems as though you have never desired anything more.

You carefully touch the screen to enlarge the images, capturing their faces with your fingertips. The attractive strangers in the photos are names you will never know.

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morphofan · 3 months

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Hyper-Fixation and The Bad Batch

Or, "WTF Is Going On With Morph, Lately?"

Me and The Bad Batch

SO, I first started watching The Bad Batch during the hiatus between S1 and S2. I was big into Boba Fett (thanks to The Mandalorian) and so I found The Bad Batch because Boba was mentioned in one episode. But I didn’t sit down to watch it until my friend, Cyn, told me I HAD to watch it.

So I watched the whole first season, and then had to go back and watch The Bad Batch arc in Season 7 of The Clone Wars. I was hooked. I couldn’t wait for Season 2. I was writing again, inspired again, hyper-fixated.

My sweet cat, my baby, Thomas, died at age 5 in November of 2022. It emotionally destroyed me.

Then my desktop computer had a total hard drive failure. Up until then, I was backing stuff up in a separate folder on my computer, which did f*ckall because the entire hard drive went bad. This was before I learned about backing stuff up on a cloud or OneDrive or whatever.

I lost all my fics, including a half-dozen Bad Batch fics in various states of completion. It was some of the best work I’ve ever written, and it was gone. Poof.

So, there was that sense of lost, and I almost left the fandom from sheer depression. I tried to rewrite the fics, but it wasn’t going to work because I knew I could never replicate what I had written.

Then came “Plan 99.”

I didn’t eat for a week. Not a bite, not a calorie. For seven days. I dropped 16 pounds. At the time of this writing, it’s been nearly 10 months since the finale of S2. The Bad Batch has occupied my mind this entire time. I couldn’t tell you what I did over the last ten months, because it was all just a long blur. I neglected my family, my duties, all the things that a grown ass woman is supposed to focus on.

I still tried to contribute to the fandom, with “Travels With Tech,” fic and video edits, but most of it has been more or less ignored.

A week or so ago, the friend that originally told me about TBB died, very suddenly, of a heart attack at age 45, leaving three kids.

We still haven’t been publicly shown the S3 Bad Batch teaser that was revealed at Star Wars Celebration back in May 2023. There’s been no word of a release date, aside from 2024. It feels now like the creators are mocking us by dropping little comments on TwiX about S3, but not actually giving us anything.

And I’ve realized now, that I’ve built up S3 in my head so much, and imagined so many scenarios I want to see, that I am destined to be disappointed when it does finally air. No matter how amazing S3 is, it cannot live up to the standards I’ve assigned it in my mind.

I did the same thing with S3 of The Mandalorian. I kept thinking, if I could just hold on until S3 of Mando, everything would be good again. But when it came, I was disappointed. And I know the same thing is going to happen with The Bad Batch.

Hyper-fixations always follow the same pattern. I get obsessed with something, and then, quite suddenly, it passes over and I become ambivalent to it. It’s happened with every fandom I’ve been with. Something that, for a time, I thought I could not live without becomes ho-hum. I don’t ever want it to happen, but it always does.

And now I have the guilt of wasting the last two years of my life on yet another hyper-fixation, only to lose interest in it just as suddenly as it started.

S3 of TBB is NOT going to make everything right again. It might provide some happiness for a few months, but then it will end and that will be it.

So anyway… sorry.

END

#the bad batch #tech bad batch #The Bad Batch Season 3 #Pouring Out My Purse #hyperfixation #fandom

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petersbaby · 2 years

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Wanna bewitch you in the moonlight

Part 2

(Part 1)

Warnings: Smut, fluff, reader has attachment issues

I kinda threw this together, but it’s what happens that night when you leave the party with him.

The car ride was a little weird, there was something in the air that you couldn’t really recognize. His car, which was actually a van, was a little old and shitty but still had heat and you were very grateful for that.

Whatever you were feeling, he was feeling it too. It wasn’t bad, but not something you feel with just anybody. In your mind you’d call it love but out loud you never would because that sounds insane.

“So uhh, what are ya thinking about over there?” Eddie asks almost nervously.

You realized that you had been staring out the window in silence like a person in a dramatic movie or sad music video.

“I can’t say. I can’t lose you so soon by scaring you off. I’m just happy. It’s a good thing.”

“I promise you’re not likely any crazier than I am. Try me.”

“Hmm, okay. Take us back to your house and I’ll think about telling you.”

He chuckles, then stops. “Wait really?”

“Yes, really. I don’t wanna go home right now.”

“Okay, sure. But I have to warn you, it’s pretty messy and not very nice.”

“It’s fine, I promise.”

Once there, you hop out of the car, still wearing his jacket. He unlocks the door and lets you in, coming in behind you and locking the door back.

He leads you to his room, which was messy, as advertised. It wasn’t too bad though, the bed was unmade but had sheets, blankets, and pillows.

The mess in the floor was pretty much just clothing, no food or trash. Weathered posters hung all around. He sits down on his bed, placing his hands on his knees.

“Well, this is it. Luxurious, right?”

You smile.

“So why didn’t you wanna go home? Is everything okay there? You can stay the night if you need to, I can take the couch-“

“Everything’s okay. I just wanted to tell you what I was thinking, really what I was thinking this entire night.”

“Okayyy..now you’re starting to scare me” he says, halfway serious.

You come close to him, and sit down on his lap straddling his legs.

You kiss him deeply, passionately, for a few minutes, before taking a good look into his eyes that you could see the color of much better under the interior light of his bedroom. “I think I love you.”

His eyes got bigger, pupils so blown out you could hardly see the brown anymore. “Wait- really? You think so?”

His sweet doe eyes sparkle while they look into yours. You smile and go back in to kiss him again.

Without pulling away, whispering into your mouth, he says “think I love you too. Shit, you’re so perfect.”

He grabs you by the waist to lay you back on the bed, hovering over you with his legs in between yours.

You kiss more hungrily now, neither of you realizing how touch starved you had been up until this point.

You slip your hands underneath his shirt to run your fingers up and down his torso and then his back, wrapping your legs around his waist to get his body as close to yours as possible.

“You promise?”

“Mhm.” He confirms. You start to take your accessories off and get more comfortable, kicking off your shoes and removing the cat ears and choker necklace. You let your hair down as well, and then tug on his shirt to slide it off him.

He reaches around you to the back of your dress which he unzips and you shimmy out of, leaving you in your panties and bra.

He pulls away completely to take in the sight of you, cursing under his breath and you suddenly get a little shy.

“Jesus, you’re beautiful. This might be the best night of my life.” You blush and reach to cover your chest instinctively, as if that would help anything.

He pulls your hands out of the way and pins them beside you as he strays from your lips, starting to trail down your neck where he sucks at the sweet spot and you can’t help the moan that escapes at that sensation. “Shit.” You say softly.

“Too hard?” He questions.

“No, harder.” You reply. “Show me I’m yours”

You want all the marks he’s willing to give you. He obliges, sucking purple marks onto your skin and biting a little at the same time which draws more moans from you.

You reach down between you two and start working on his belt, him helping you push his pants down once it’s unbuckled.

While you were relishing in all of this affection, you suddenly became impatient, and whine out as if to say “please”, a squirming mess below him.

He pushes your black thong to the side, not having to get you ready because you already were; soaking wet and waiting for his arrival. “Fuck, okay.” He pushes in and his head immediately falls forward, mumbling incoherent curses.

You gasp, and hold onto that breath without realizing it. You let it go finally once he’s fully inside, completely relaxing your body. “Oh my god”, you let out, dragging the last word out as you take it all in.

He starts to move, going slow at first but picked up the speed when you kept crying for more.

Before you know it, you felt so fucked out that your eyes could hardly stay open and your mouth was going dry from how it’s been open this whole time in pleasure.

He fits inside you perfectly, like the right key to the right lock, and fills you up in such a way that you’ll feel empty without him after this. Briefly; you consider the situation.

You were having sex with a person you just met today, who was also selling drugs and looked a little dark from afar.

But something happened when you met that night. He didn’t scare you, it was actually the opposite.

You felt like it was meant to be. You were meant to meet and that everything fell perfectly into place, orchestrated by some higher power.

It truly did feel that way, like the way he smelled felt like home. You didn’t scare him either. He was enamored with you. And you looked so, so pretty beneath him. Coming undone.

“Eddie, please.” You almost whisper, as if not to wake someone who wasn’t even home. Neither of you really know what you’re asking him for. He brings his face right back to yours, your lips meeting again.

So close that your noses were touching, being as close as possible to him was something you needed.

You wanted to kiss him so bad, but you kept short circuiting every time he pulled out then pushed back into you with deliberate passion. So you settled for moaning into his mouth, partially open and swapping hot breath.

“So beautiful. So fucking pretty.” He praises you. You just whimper in response, feeling as though you could melt right there.

“You are”, You manage, “you’re-you’re so fucking pretty too.”

He feels you tighten around him, mewling out small noises when you couldn’t think of any words.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me, pretty girl.”

“Mhmm”, you nod.

“Let go if you need to, give it to me.”

You nod again quickly, reaching down to play with your clit as he continues fucking you in order to reach your climax expeditiously, and you do. The face you make as it washes over you is something he ever wants to forget.

“Jesus Christ.” He says, under his breath. While you were still on cloud nine, not totally back yet, he becomes more hard and sloppy with his movements.

When you focus your on him again, making eye contact with your pretty fucked out eyes made him finish right there. It paints your insides and fills you up in the best possible way; completeness.

He stills for a moment, then pulls out to lay beside you. You both stare at the ceiling, processing the whirlwind that just happened but soon looking at each other again.

All you can do is smile, and it’s contagious. He smiles at you too and leans over to kiss you on the temple.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut

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intercoursefluids · 2 years

Note

Can I get a Jason x Adrien; established relationship?

BAMF Bottom Adrien/Chat Noir going feral when he sees Jason, as Red Hood, hurt and he's having these dark thoughts plaguing his mind, cause the last time Jason got hurt when Adrien wasn't there, he had died. So Adrien was only seeing red when he attacked, surprisingly he didn't kill the goons but left them in critical condition. After that he left a warning in the most seductive/purring/teasing but still deadly voice about 'keeping their paws off what's his'. Then the rumor's start coming around about 'Catwoman having a sidekick?' but she defuses these claims, saying she doesn't. And now everyone is confuse/wary/terrified, about this newcomer that's strangely overprotective of the Big Bad Red Hood; the beheadings guy; the 'shoot first, ask questions never' literal CRIME LORD!!.

Okay, so I may have gotten a little carried away and went off script so if you want me to re-write it I will

Nevertheless I hope you enjoy

Word Count:772

NSFW-ish

Adrien had been lying in bed, watching Ouran Highschool Host Club for the nth time and waiting for his boyfriend to get home when a live stream took over his TV screen.

“Hello Gotham, I hope you all are prepared for my next batch of Fear Gas. Seeing as how it has been awhile since I have shown what I do, I thought a little demonstration was in order!”

The camera pans over to show Red Hood tied to a chair, slumped over and breathing heavily.

“Today, I will be testing the effects on Red Hood. I caught Gotham’s famous beheader snooping around too close to my territory so he will be learning his lesson today! Hope you are ready, this will be painful.”

The maniac scientist's laughter echoes in Adrien’s ears as he leaps out the window, already transformed and tracking his love through his scent.

Adrien, now suited up as Chat Noir, wastes no time as he rushes to Jason’s rescue, leaving cracks in the concrete from where his pole slammed into it, barely sparring a second glance to make sure he didn’t hit a person.

Pure, unadulterated, panic seized Chat’s mind.

The last time Jason had been in this situation, he hadn't been there. No one had been there and Jason had died.

Chat had just gotten him back, after spending literal years mourning his first love, he wouldn’t lose him again.

He couldn’t lose him again.

The smell of leather, blood, and Jason’s favorite cologne starts to get stronger as he makes it to the building Jason is being kept in.

Chat spots Jason through the window, Scarecrow preparing to stick him with a syringe, and he doesn’t bother stopping.

He barrels straight through the wall, scattering chunks of drywall in every direction.

Immediately, everyone’s attention is on him.

Goons aim their guns at him but he moves too fast, grabbing Scarecrow by the arm Chat throws him away from his boyfriend, launching him so far that he crashes into the table holding all of his Mad-Scientist equipment.

Chat tilts Jason’s, Red Hood’s, face up, realizing it was pointless because he was wearing his helmet and grabbing one of his hands instead, letting Jason rest his head on Chat’s other hand.

“Are you okay? Scratch that, you obviously aren’t okay. Can you walk? Do you want me to carry you? Does your head hurt? Is anything broken? Do I need to call Ladybu-”

Chat’s rapid fire questions are cut off by two bullets, hitting him in his back and making his shoulders jerk forward.

“Give me a second, Love.”

Chat plants a kiss to the top of Jason’s head helmet, and straightens up, slowly turning to face his attackers, a low growl building in the back of as his and Plagg’s shared rage takes physical form in the shadows of pure destruction seeping from his body, his fangs elongnating, and his cat eyes narrowing into nothing more than slits.

Chat fixates on Scarecrow, holding an assault rifle pointed at his chest.

Scarecrow fires several shots as Chat slowly stalks towards him, the bullets disintegrating before they even reach him.

Chat sprints the last few steps to Scarecrow, gripping the barrel of the rifle and turning it to ashes in his grip.

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Unless you want to meet the same fate as this little toy you call a weapon, you will keep your paws off of what's mine. Now run before I change my mind and erase your existence.”

The threat comes out as more of a snarl than anything. The ashes from the rifle floating to the ground leaving Scarecrow holding onto nothing before the words register.

Scarecrow books it out of there, jumping through the same hole in the wall that Chat had put there upon his arrival.

Chat immediately rushes back to his boyfriend's side, who is more or less holding himself upright.

“That was hot.”

Jason huffs out a laugh as Chat’s face blooms in crimson, completely flustered and sputtering as he tries to untie him and talk at the same time.

“That's- I- You can’t just… STop flirting with me, I need to focus!”

Jason is kind enough not to bring attention to the fact that Chat’s voice cracked but he is not kind enough to stop flustering his boy friend.

“Sorry for being such a distraction, Love. Don’t worry though, when we get back home, all of my attention will be on you and all you will have to focus on is trying to remember to say ‘Please’.”

Adrien will forever deny that he stumbled his next step.

Tag List:

(I wasn't sure if the people in my general taglist want to be tagged for stuff like this as well so let me know if you do or don't)

@Vroomtaka

@rosesandsailboats

#maribat #ml x dc #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #Adrien x Jason #Jasrien #?#Adrison #Idk their ship name #Rare pair #maybe???

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openingpandorasbox1 · 9 months

Text

FROM DIARY TO BLOG

The one regret I have when keeping a diary is that I didn’t write dates down. I thought it was pointless since no one would read it. When I write in my diary, I write it either on the day or the next day so all events are still fresh in my mind, so everything is as precise as possible.

I’m a hoarder, I’ve got so much paperwork that I’ve kept over the years, books of diary entries, and lists that I’ve written down. Birthday cards, Christmas cards, and shit like that. This is one of the reasons why I am putting my diaries onto a blog, so I can get rid of all the paperwork. When you move you certainly realize how much shit you own. I feel like I’m a bit of a hoarder but not as bad as those people you see on those Hoarder TV programs. I was watching this Hoarder program once and this woman’s house was so full of shit that the cleaners found a dead flat cat. She didn’t even know it was there.

I don’t want to lose my memories, I wouldn’t feel comfortable deleting them completely; it would be almost like I was deleting myself. I’ve started throwing out cards (birthday etc.) from people that I am no longer in contact with, as well as some photos, etc.

I was watching The Living Room one night and Peter Walsh was on it and he is an expert on hoarding and organizing. He said that if you want to hold onto a memory, instead of holding onto the item itself, take photos of it and then give it away to charity.

All my blog posts were written at the time they took place, whether I had written about it on the day it took place or the day after. So they are accurate and detailed as to what took place. When I have rewritten them into my blog, I have kept them exactly the same as they are in my diary, if I have changed anything it is grammar. Under some blog posts, I have added an update if there is any. If there are any inaccuracies in my diaries, they would be little and insignificant. I’m a realist and I stand by the truth whether it is good or bad. Everything in my blog is raw, and I know a lot of people don’t like the truth. I stand by the truth, and no matter how idiotic it may appear throughout this blog, I’m just being honest. This is how I express myself; I love writing and find it a lot easier to convey my feelings in writing than verbally. Some people express themselves in writing and other people express themselves verbally and then there are others who express themselves through art or music. We shouldn’t condemn people for expressing themselves differently to others, as we are all different and one is no more superior than the other.

If anybody ever does read my blog in the future, they won’t see many positive entries; this is due to me writing to get things off my chest. In all honesty, I have experienced more negatives in my life than positives, it’s not how I wanted it to be, but that’s how it was and how it is. That’s not how I wanted my life to go and it’s not through my own doing, it’s just how life pans out. Some people have better lives than others and most of the time many factors in our life aren’t ours the choosing.

Judy said that I’ve had a lot of weirdos in my life and she’s right, it’s an accurate remark. I shake my head with shame and don’t understand why I associated with those people at all. I don’t regret my diary or my blog, but I do regret tolerating toxic people for as long as I did. Keeping a diary has helped me move on. It has also helped me observe my own patterns and it’s also helped me notice the patterns of those around me.

Blogs online can be a positive thing because when you share your own experience, you are also helping those who can relate.

Those people who I have written about in my blog were toxic, however, they weren’t toxic all the time and they had a good side and good traits. I do have a habit of overlooking people’s negatives to focus on their positives. I haven’t had that many good people in my life, in fact not many at all. Bad people aren’t bad all the time. That's why I had them in my life.

Keeping a diary has helped me see a pattern and helped me understand the motivation behind what they were doing.

When I posted my diary entries to my blog, I change the names of the people and have given them all alias. I don’t name to shame, this blog isn’t motivated by revenge as I care very little for revenge. I don’t believe the toxic individuals I’ve had in my life are sorry for what they have done to me and I don’t think they will ever be sorry, most of them are way too selfish for that. They are toxic and narcissistic and some are sociopaths. They won’t acknowledge the truth and that is why I am uncomfortable being in a relationship with them. If they won’t accept how they have mistreated me and others, they will continue to repeat patterns.

Even some of the people in my life who I thought I could trust and who would be good to me have put a knife in my back. It’s hard to trust people. I trust strangers more than the people I have known, I’ve had more family members and friends hurting me than strangers. When people stab me in the back I am no longer surprised, that’s where I’m at today, I’m used to it.

Even though I’ve mainly had toxic people in my life, I’ve had a few cool people in my life as well. However, I rarely see or hear from them. I don’t have anyone who is there, I mean really there. There have been some people who have been in my life and drifted away, family members, friends, and acquaintances, people I haven’t had any issues with, they sort of disappear with their own life and I still hold a fondness for those people. They were good people but not everyone is meant to be in your life, even the good ones. I just let people live their own life and wish them the best in life. You don’t have to have a fight or a falling out with someone for them to leave your life. The main reason why I don’t write about good people in my life is because they don’t give me a reason to write about them. There are times when I have mentioned these people slightly in my blog because they were present at certain events which I have written about. The positive people who have been in my life are not perfect by any means, I’m not perfect, and no one is. These people are those who give me the feeling of serenity and peace - some people just give you that and you don’t have to be close friends with them to feel like that around certain people. There are just certain people you can be around who you can feel comfortable with. I don’t need to vent or rant about any of those people because they haven’t caused me any trouble. I may not have any outstanding happy memories with them to write down but I don’t recall them causing me any pain.

Nobody I know or have known, knows about this blog and will most likely never will. If they do come across it will be through chance and won’t be through any doing of my own. If they do ever come across it and become upset because I’ve written the truth down, I still won’t regret keeping this blog. If they didn’t want me to write it down they shouldn’t have done bad things to me or to someone else.

This blog is largely ignored and no one reads it or views it. If anybody takes an interest in my blog it’s because of the images or memes I post and not for any other reason than that. I’m not sure how long this blog will last in cyberspace, a lot of websites disappear after a while, and all their content with it. Even websites don’t last forever, so I’m guessing that’s why people write things down on paper because you can’t trust websites or the internet. At least paper lasts longer. If my blog ever disappears then my life will then disappear forever. I don’t believe anyone today or in the future will find this blog of any interest.

Another reason to keep a diary is to help you get on with your life. If you don’t keep a diary, you will forget all the bad things that people have done to you and will only remember the good times which will put you at risk of going back into a relationship with a toxic person. You should never forget the toxic behavior that a person has imposed on you. If they do it once then they most likely will do it again, especially if they aren’t sincerely sorry. From my own personal experience, when someone has done wrong to me, they won’t say sorry, most of them have usually lied about what happened (gaslight), and if on the rare occasion, they say ‘sorry’ (which most don’t) they are only saying it to get away with it and so they can do it again on a later date. Their sorry isn’t sincere or genuine; their sorry is a lie as well. They all react with deceit. If someone does wrong to me or to someone else and I stand up for myself or for someone else, most of the time they will just call me a ‘bitch’. I often read that women get called ‘difficult’ when standing up for themselves, but realistically who gets called ‘difficult’? I don’t know any woman who gets termed ‘difficult. They get called a ‘bitch’ and that’s what we get called when we don't take shit lying down.

I don’t think people should forget the bad things that people have done to them, if they are out of your life, remember the reason why. If you forget, or turn a blind eye to it because you feeling lonely, they will come back into your life and fuck you all over again, that is what toxic people do. It’s important to move on and let go, but you should never forget what happened.

I know within my own life that I’ve forgiven people who weren’t sorry for what they have done to me. I kept them in my life and I’ve made that mistake too many times. I’ve kept people in my life for too long when they never deserved to be in my life in the first place. That is one of my biggest mistakes, it was my mistake and I was at fault for keeping them in my life. They only had me in their life so they could hurt me again. When I keep a diary I rarely go back to it to read it, however, when I started posting them onto my blog that is the first time when I read back on them and I noticed patterns of myself and other people around me. I wish I had read my diary back earlier, if I had, I would have not put up with as much shit for the duration that I had. This is why I believe it’s important to keep a diary as it serves as a warning, not only about other people but also about yourself. Previous experiences bring wisdom and growth.

I most likely do have toxic people in my present life and most likely will in my future, we all will, that’s life. You won’t know they are toxic at first; they will be all nice, sometimes it can take weeks, months, or years before you work out that someone is toxic. I’m a realist and I know that not everyone in your life will be good, that’s just the truth. If you think everything will be all roses and rainbows in the future, you are delusional. Reality isn’t that kind or naïve. I hope in the future I will meet more good people who are emotionally more mature. I just want people in my life who are genuine, caring, good-natured, respectful, and who will stand by me (as long as they don’t suffocate me because I’m an introvert). It doesn’t matter how many people I’ve had in my life, I’ve always felt alone because realistically I was alone that entire time. I’ve spent my entire life having to stand on my own regardless of the family and friends I've had around me. It was always me, myself, and I - I have learned that I have to stand on my own feet and I can’t rely on another person. I always have to fight my own battles whilst my family and friends stood in silence and were submissive or they would take the side of the toxic person. Even if someone is your parent, family member, partner, or friend it doesn’t mean they care about you or will stand by you. I’ve always dreamed and fantasized about having people in my life who care about me and will stand by me. I dream of having good parents, a good partner, and good friends - not perfect, but have a good heart and who sincerely like me. Just people who care about me. I’ve had too many fake people in my life, I can’t deal with people smiling at me and then stabbing me in the back. The reason why I stand up for other people is because I know what it is like to be alone. It’s difficult to be surrounded by family and friends knowing that those people don’t really give a damn about you.

Keeping a diary is good for your mental health; it could save your life. Keeping a diary has helped me a lot. When no one is there for you, when you are attacked when people criticize you are put down, when no one cares when you are ignored; at least you have a diary to confide in. Even though I’m putting this public, I don’t care for attention, I hate attention, to be honest, and I’m an introvert. I don’t mind being alone, I feel serenity in my own company as there’s no hate here.

Even if no one will care about your diary or your blog, start one anyway especially if you like writing and you find it hard to communicate verbally. Don’t start a diary to gain allies, to be popular, to get sympathy, or to get revenge, start it to benefit you and to help you get things off your chest. A diary should be a friend you can talk to. It’s important to care about yourself because realistically when you get older, you will realize those who you thought cared, actually don’t. You have to be your own best friend and treat yourself right. Don’t rely on another person for happiness or for a sense of importance.

People in the future may hate me for writing down the truth. In perspective, nobody has been upset or angry with anybody who has hurt me and done wrong to me. Nobody gets angry with those people, it’s okay for them to go around treating me and other people like shit. Nobody should feel they have to live in silence especially after people have done wrong to them. My life has been far from happy or glamorous, it’s been a series of disappointments. I won’t have anybody trying to change the truth or making me feel bad about conversing the truth. I just have to be honest and straightforward. This has been my life; it’s the only one I’ve known.

….

This blog consists of extracts from my diary throughout the years (taken from private diaries which I've written from over the years).

All names have been changed to protect the identity of all individuals.

All diary entries were written at the time of the event or a day later.

If there are any inaccuracies they will be only minor and usually due to grammar mistakes & typos, etc.

I haven't always written diary dates in my diary because I thought when I was writing in my diary, writing the dates was pointless. However, there were times when I did write dates (or years) in my diary with particular diary entries.

These diary entries were written without the intention of anyone to ever read them which is why they are raw and deeply honest.

I'm anti-bullying and anti-abuse and I have published this diary in an attempt to curb bullying and abuse by posting diary posts of my own experiences of being bullied and emotionally abused. I hope if anybody has gone through something similar we can all thrive and come out as better people from it. We need to send the message out there that bullying and abuse is never okay.

I'm also against censorship.

#keepingadiary#blogging#peterwalsh#thelivingroom#hoarders

#diary #blog #blogging #keeping a blog #keeping a diary #peter walsh #peterwalsh #the living room #hoarders

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somian-audere · 1 year

Text

ENTRY XVI

Something new, something else

This week has been a wild one,

It’s been really good, too good, one might say, but I’ve taken it in stride, because next week is going to be quite challenging to say the least. But an update on the last entry, I did the activity solo however it suddenly shifted into a recorded video format so I got off pretty easy. But…I still decided to do it in the only way I knew how, as silly and as stupid as I could do it. And funnily enough, I was proud of it. I slept at midnight just so I could finish it, and let me tell you I always sleep at around 11pm but this was the first time that I did something that kept me up the whole night.

I was happy.

As a saying goes, “You can spell fun out of suffering, but you can’t get suffering from fun,” and I enjoyed making it, flaws and all. Sure, I made a few editing mistakes, and probably a few too many horrible jokes for the time allotted but I didn’t care! Could I have added more scientific details? Probably, but I didn’t hesitate, this work was wholly me. It’s been some time since I made something for me, and not for someone else’s sake, not for a group, or some people that I don’t care about and have to impress, no…just me.

I…lost myself in a moment.

I know, I’m probably just high from the risk and the danger of doing it the way that I did, but I did anyway because I didn’t want to regret not ever doing it at all. It’s as though for a moment, I cast aside all my doubtful thoughts, all the concerns, and my critiques for something genuine. Will I get a bad grade? Highly likely, went over the time limit, and didn’t really delve into the topic but just this once, it was worth it.

---

I guess I was wrong.

…?

You were right about me. I work better when I don’t think at all.

That statement? Please, you were thinking all the way through it all. It was your mind that got us through it.

W-what?

HAHAHAHAHA! There’s a difference between thinking and worrying. You’re always so afraid of stepping on someone’s shoes that you don’t take a step at all. All you needed was a push, to stop worrying, and just lose yourself!

I-I…thank you.

Just remember, if you just keep going, being true to who you are and what you want, that’s the moment when you’re alive.

Even if it means letting go of…

Especially then, pride is the only thing holding you back! Who cares about what's right and proper? Who cares about our reputation?

That's a bit extreme but a part of me agrees with your madness.

Madness huh? Well you still have some time, we’ll get through it! There’s no point in thinking about the future, it just distracts you from what you should be doing. The present is ours to make.

You sound like a cat poster.

And you sound like a poor sad-sac that’s been forced to watch too many meta jokes to actually take a genuine piece of advice.

…That one actually hurt.

Eh, get over it.

---

It’s funny,

How trying something new made me think that I was insane. But in truth, I realize now that the old adage of, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a new result,” holds some truth. I’ve been stuck here forcing myself to love a course that only hurt me, and I’m sticking with it, but I’m done hating myself or this path I chose. Everyone makes a mistake, and sometimes these mistakes define a really significant part of our lives, but I’m done learning from them, I’m done regretting everything that I’ve ever done. The lessons that I've learned I'll keep in my heart, and everything else, I'll move on from. I'll just be myself, not the genius person that I thought I was, but just a simple person trying to find my place in this world. That's all I've ever been, and that's all I've ever needed to be.

A crack in the door’s been open

My eyes are now beholden

To a place where I can break

I now know, what’s at stake

Tomorrow might not wait

So today is my fate.

Oh, and I got a crush this week too.

Yeah, she’s a student at my university though a different college and course, so that meets the first criteria, as I really don’t want to end up with someone in the sciences, believe me that’s just going to end up in disaster. I’m really getting sick of hearing science facts and stuff like that, so just that point is a plus in my book. She has black hair, the ideal body proportions, and glasses, need I say more?

Oh, but Somi, you just like her for her glasses?

You say, well she’s very friendly, and she actually approached me first so there! Well, we actually met during a PE class, and ironically enough PE is my favorite subject this semester, the professor is an actual queen. Like if this professor told me to jump off a cliff, I’d do it, no hesitation. My brain at this point is really useless, but my body is a temple. Not much muscle, but I like to exercise, and another good point is that we don’t dance at all, we do yoga, a few workouts, and even eat healthy food. But this isn’t exactly the essay on why I love PE, though I can write one if I’m tempted to [immediately take note for another entry]. But this girl always talks to me after every class, we chat a bit, and sometimes we occasionally ask the other if they’re free after the class, but due to conflicting schedules we can’t exactly walk home together.

So, Somi, why don’t you just ask her out?

Nope. I’m only physically attracted to her at this time, I’ll compliment her once (breaking one of the pre-established rules, eh, whatever) but that’s it. I can’t afford to get a relationship at this point of my life, I…I would want to…someday. But it just isn’t the right time, I’ll be graduating soon, and I don’t want to have another long-distance relationship, I can’t do that anymore. If she wants to pursue a relationship with me, then I’d say all of what I just said to her, like I definitely wouldn’t mind, anyone would be a lucky guy to ask her out, but there’s just a lot of baggage. And besides, when I’m with her I wear a façade, being a nice person, but deep down, we all know I’m not. Still though it’d be nice to have a friend outside of the main group I keep getting attached to in the sciences.

Speaking of which,

These two people in my…workmates group, who I’ve been shipping for several months, were actually together this entire time. And they just told me a few days ago, and they kept telling me that it was obvious and that I wasn’t smart for figuring it out on my own because almost everyone knew. THEN WHY THE HECK ARE YOU ASKING ME TO KEEP IT A SECRET?! Ahem, my annoyances aside, “I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT I WAS RIGHT! MY SHIPPING RADAR STILL WORKS.” I won’t interfere with it though, just a few teasing side glances, maybe a ‘Kyaaaaaah!” (I really like romance, okay?) Here and there, because I know that bad things happen when people mess with other people’s relationships, I’ll be side character B (the one without a face) in this scenario. I’m a bit jealous though, not of the two people, but of the relationship itself, they’ve thought of a way to stay together after graduation, and I'm here with a bit of a funk. I guess love is far stronger than what I expected it could be.

Oh well,

~The single’s life for me~

I don’t know the rest of the lines of that song though.

#romance #personal #writing #memoir #single #happiness

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mysteriousangels · 1 year

Text

Solo Para (Adelphia/ Maddy): Negligence

Adelphia knew she had plans tonight and was generally very committed to getting to places promptly, but she couldn’t shake the feeling in the back of her head. She knew Maddy had been going in and out of a rough patch, but that was nothing new and generally, Adelphia did as she was asked and pretended not to see Maddy’s cries for help. But Auradon was finally getting to her, and she made her way to Maddy’s place.

When she went to knock on the door and it slowly creaked open. In contrast to the setting sun outside everything inside the house was dark and ominous. She slowly walked into the darkened house and made her way to the living room on the off chance that Maddy would be hanging out there. As her eyes started to adjust, she did notice Salem in the corner, spooked out of his mind and scratching at something.

“Salem what is it you got there?” The more put-together blonde asked the cat as she slowly walked over to see what he was clawing at. When she noticed a particular shine to the item, Adelphia paused. Maddy’s talisman necklace. What in the world would drive Maddy to take that off? The one thing she claimed kept the voices of her grandmother and her cousins away, that kept her from becoming her grandmother.

Adelphia grabbed the necklace and ran to Maddy’s room, busting the door open with her shoulder since there was no time for politeness. There was Maddy in the middle of the room, it was dark, and everything was a mess. The windows were shattered, and the wind was blowing into the room lightly, with the moonlight being the only thing that light up the room.

“Madds? You took off your necklace, you know how bad it is for you to take it off.” Adelphia said softly wanting to stay calm, so she didn’t spook the other blonde. Maddy slowly turned to look at Adelphia with tear streaks on her face. Then she looked at the ground and Adelphia gently came over to her and hugged her.

“It happened again Del. I can’t take it all the nightmare, every time I lose control, I’m a monster just like they said. I always knew I was a monster, unwanted by even my mother. Why didn’t they just leave me in that damn hole and let one of the wolves eat me? Why couldn’t I……why couldn’t I?” Maddy sobbed as she clung to Adelphia. As Adelphia held Maddy close, allowing the girl to cry the wind in the room picked up. The shattered glass in the room cut through her clothes as she held Maddy even closer. The pain wasn’t as bad as it could be, Adelphia had taken worst from her mother on the Isle a few cuts on her arms and face didn’t mean much when her best friend’s health was concerned. She knew how Maddy felt about herself and how Maddy isolated herself because of it. Although she had always taken a backseat to the girl’s problems to respect her privacy at what point did her respect turn to negligence as a friend? They all have been negligent as her friend, but no one wanted to say it or cared enough to. It was just Maddy, right? It was what Maddy had asked for and wanted since leaving the Isle, right? But the way Maddy was clinging to her told a different story and it made Adelphia realize that she should have tried harder, she should have cared more. They all should have cared more if they considered Maddy their friend.

Maddy, herself, was stuck in her head wondering why she was even still here. People claimed to care but, in the end, it was always shallow, a surface-level amount of care. But that was the relationship she forced upon people, not that anyone ever tried to fight her on it, to show they cared more. The whole point of her moving was because she was slowly spiraling, what was the point of her wearing that stupid necklace if she was still gonna be a danger to herself and others? If people would still see her as she saw herself, a monster. It was a good hour before Maddy calmed down as she hugged the girl’s waist and allowed Adelphia to stroke her hair softly. It was comforting to have someone there when she needed them and not in the aftermath. Sure, it was nice for people to come and show they cared when the hard part was over, but it was way more meaningful to be there when things were at their lowest. “You should go, Adelphia, you were planning to go out right? I’m sorry I kept you here for so long.” Maddy said quietly and slowly sat up looking at Adelphia.

“After you put on your necklace Madds. I don’t want to leave you here alone when you need someone, Stiles will understand.” Adelphia said and smiled gently at Maddy.

“Someone will make an appearance; they always do when the storm ends. I’ll text you so you know I didn’t do anything completely stupid.” Maddy gently took the necklace from Adelphia and put it on her neck. A collar that was meant to help but only served as a decoration ever since Madame Mim took it off her.

“I’ll call, okay? Get some sleep and I’ll be back in the morning.” She said and slowly got up. She quickly gave Maddy another hug and promised Maddy that even if the world was against her Adelphia would be there as her friend. Then Adelphia left the other witch’s house occasionally looking back in worry about her and if she was making the right choice.

#Adelphia Swinton #Isn't There Always that One Defective Daughter || Adelphia #mad maddy #a little crazy could do everyone some good || Maddy #Solo Para: Negligence

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beckface · 2 years

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It’s 1am and brain go brrr so i’m gonna just. Talk about a realllly self indulgent wg and twobrains au for a bit don’t mind me

context- I wrote a fic one time that was like the city turned on WG a bit and her secret identity got revealed after a really bad battle, like Becky overheard some conversations out of context of people she cared about and assumed that their mixed emotions were them completely shunning her. Then TB comforted her in the woods and the ending kindof implies that she bitterly decides to stop protecting the city.

So thats the backstory for whatever saccharine family bullshit i’m about to start saying idk I didn’t plan this

warning this is aggressively Becky hurt/comfort

Twobrains goes home and eats his dinner but keeps thinking about Becky, like he’s all discombobulated because he’s getting weird fuzzy memories of her secret identity and realizing that he has a lot repressed of warmth and love that the two shared

He talks to his henchmen and tells them everything, Squeaky is just kindof quietly listening and observing like the stone cold embodiment of evil the weird mouse tumor is. He’s like “this could be a beneficial development” and Tb is like “I am in so much pain”

Anyways a couple days go by and things go back to normal except wordgirl (now known to be Becky Botsford) is no where to be seen. Everyone is worried sick but really hesitant about expressing it or going to look for her because they feel like she’s now alienated (pun. laugh. laugh at my pun.) from everyone else

And they don’t really understand that she’s really vulnerable right now because everyone has it in their heads that they don’t really see Wordgirl as a full fledged person, and more like a godly beacon of power. This is infecting their view of Becky, and the people who knew Becky are being very standoffish and weird about it

So TB is thinkin his thoughts and goes through old tapes of Steven and WG interacting, stuff he refused to watch before. He goes to a villain meeting and all the villains talk about how it’s been nice that they haven’t been caught doing crimes but they’re all really hesitant to do anything too big.

Some like Granny May and Mr. Big are just doing their thing as normal but keeping it lowkey, some like Butcher and Chuck feel too guilty to do any crimes while Wordgirl is sad and MIA, and Tobey is just out here losing all villainous motivation because Wordgirl isn’t showing up and, he along with Victoria and Eileen miss Becky a lot.

Kid Math IS here and stopping some villains, but he’s in the city over so he can’t be at Fair City all the time!

Twobrains considers all this and decides to take some action under the guise of being annoyed at everyone being all melancholy. He goes to her spaceship hideout (he knows where it is from that one episode where she procrastinated and took him there) and finds her there sulking as expected.

Becky is laying on the couch, the tv on but not really watching it. She’s knows that her family and friends probably miss her, and she should probably talk to Bob because he’s in just as deep as she is, but she’s stuck in her own head still.

When she hears a knock on the door, or rather, on the window, she goes to check it out. Twobrains somehow climbed his way up to the window and is now very clearly regretting that decision, and almost falling off

She saves him and he’s like “Are you just gonna mope forever” and she’s like [emo music] “you’re not my dad you don’t understand!” and he’s all “Thats it. You’re coming with me.” and he just kinda scoops her up like you would a wet cat and she’s too preteen angst to care, and thus begins the “Wordgirl hides from everyone and lives with Twobrains for a bit” au

He makes her a little pallet in the guest room and puts in some toys and stuff she left in his lab when he was Steven that he never gave back to her before (I am holding on to that headcanon for dear life I bring it up so much) and over time the guest room stops looking like a guest room and starts looking like an explosion of 11-year-old-girl happened in the middle of this evil lair

He gets her some civilian clothes at some point so she doesn’t have to just wear the uniform all the time but like he has no idea what little girls wear so it’s just his outfit but smaller. The henchman go out and get Becky some actual outfits and stuff

Twobrains starts to grumpily bond with Becky and the Henchmen find it funny how he goes out of his way for her but acts like it’s such a horrible burden.

“Boss aren’t we committing a crime? Why are we stopping at the pretty princess sale?”

“You imbeciles, well OBVIOUSLY this pretty princess special edition deluxe wallpaper color-by-number kit isn’t going to buy itself?? I swear, having Wordgirl around is so annoying, she doesn’t even know that this is out yet and still won’t leave the house anyways, so I have to be the one to get it for her! Ugh.”

“Boss why. Why do you need to get it for her.”

“Do I pay you to ask questions?? Go get my wallet!”

She pops up while he’s building his evil rays and EVERY single time she makes a big deal about how she could stop him if she was still a crime fighter and goes into detail about how she would do it. Like she’s so bored she makes up crimes for herself to stop. Eventually he’s like “I need some peace while building. Clearly the reasonable solution is not to ask her to leave me alone for a bit, so I’m going to build a room dedicated to hologram battle scenarios.” And it turns out to just be a battle training sort of deal but Becky thinks it’s the most fun thing ever

Mousebrain convinces TB to spread a rumor that Wordgirl has gone back to Lexicon, just for safety purposes. TB can tell that Squeaky has a plan, but is keeping quiet. For now. TB can guess pretty easily where this is going though.

one direction this could go is Becky thinks she’s just gonna stay away from everyone but as she and TB get closer she gets more and more into the things he does, she starts negotiating with her moral code a bit and begins by being curious about his work, and is genuinely interested when he excitedly infodumps about his projects

Then she starts helping him build his gadgets, evil or not. She even gets to wear one of his spare lab coats, but she has to tie up the sleeves and cape of the coat so it fits on her. He does have some goggles that fit her. One day when going to work on the lab she wears the outfit he bought that was just a copy of his, and combined with the lab coat and goggles it looks like Twobrains and his mini-me (who other then the outfit looks nothing like him so it’s silly) working on some sort of contraption together

He feels all proud when she wears the mini-me outfit and alcjakdjalxlckd im sick in the head someone help me but no yeah he’s like “Look. My child. She has arrived.”

“Y’know kid this is really fun, Why couldn’t we have just done this sooner instead of you pestering me about my schemes all this time”

“Doc. Arresting you for committing multiple felonies is not ‘pestering’”

“Ehhh you say potato I say pestering”

“No you say potato, I say felony-hey haha stop it!”

“Whats that? I can’t hear you over this pillow in your face.”

*murmurring*

“Come again? I think you might have- hEY-“ [twobrains is thrown on the ground by an aggressively tossed pillow]

“Muahaha! You think you can defeat me? I am Wordgirl! Master of the art of pillow fighting!”

“Oh ho ho- you may have mastered the arts, but don’t forget who taught you! Never understand an old pro with some tricks up his sleeve- HENCHMAN, NOW!”

[The Henchmen and Twobrains all bombarded Becky with pillows. She gives up quickly with a giant smile, and she and Twobrains fall on the pile of pillows laughing hard]

“HAAH- hah hah- Oh god, I haven’t done that in years, I feel like a little kid again!”

[he turns to see Becky’s eyes shining and a thoughtful grin stretching across her face]

“?”

“Whatcha lookin at me like that for”

“Nothing I just- I’m really happy right now”

He tells some of the other villains at some point, not all at once just the ones he’s closest too. He avoids telling the kids, something tells him that they would tell her parents where she is, and mouse brain doesn’t like that idea.

He tries to remain unbiased because she’s clearly hearing everything with the worst intentions right now, but from everything she says about how everyone from her life is supposedly talking about her they all seem pretty heartless just because she’s different and powerful. He doesn’t really want to have her go back to that either.

Chuck and Butcher have both been worried sick since they’re both really soft and have grown to care about Wordgirl a lot, so they’re happy she’s okay, and doubly happy that she’s not stopping their crimes of her own accord now. The two come over for lunch often and hang out with TB and his gaggle of people he accidentally adopted

TB has started to use her real name around the house because “Wordgirl” feels awkward. Becky at first is weirded out by him calling her Becky, and it feels strange for him too, but over time it starts being more comfortable and almost nostalgic, because WG remember everything from the steven time ofc and TB is getting more and more memories of Becky now that the truth is out

Sometimes Kid Math comes over to stop an evil scheme. Becky keeps her distance but is always overtaken by this intense self-hatred and guilt, but she feels too paralyzed to go do anything either way.

Becky, pointing at her feelings of inadequacy whenever she’s not doing something to serve others even if it’s too much for her: Damn g my cut is insane shoutout to my barber (camera pans to childhood trauma)

She basically really hates not doing anything and it makes her feel worthless or like she’s actively doing something wrong, or like it’s her sole duty to take care of other people and she’s failing at the point of her existence somehow

She ends up talking to TB and the other villains/henchmen that know where she is about this, because who else does she have right now? and they are all like “F that, you don’t owe anything to anybody!”

Between this, bonding with her villains, and becoming dangerously comfortable with avoiding seeing anyone she knows after the attack day she kindof becomes a villain in the shadows

She’s petrified of being seen in public again, but she helps some of the villains now. Mostly TB. She starts out by assisting with rays and such, but ends up wearing a cloak and breaking through walls for them or superhearing things etc

One day it gets to the point where she wakes up from a nightmare and in a angry, panicked haze goes and just wrecks a nearby building all on her own. She realizes someone might see her and rushed back to the warehouse, finding Twobrains awake. She apologizes, thinking she woke him up, but his sleep schedule has never been and will never be normal so he was just up on his own doing god knows what

He at first doesn’t think much of it other then that it’s weird she’s up so late, but catches on that she’s off when she keeps hanging around him but not talking.

She wants comfort and is just highkey affection starved but he’s not really the one she would go to for it and she doesn’t feel that she deserves it after doing something bad but she doesn’t want to be alone and he’s like the main adult in her life now and she just keeps spiraling until Twobrains who’s just been 🧍‍♂️ this whole time decides he doesn’t have time for the Becky-overthinking thing and picks her up in like the proper holding a child way

She’s very confused and he goes “You can tell me if you want. You don’t have to though, but you’re alright kiddo. Don’t start thinking you’re not n’ all that jazz.”

She just kind of leans into his shoulder quietly and he holds her with one arm while grabbing cheese snacks and stuff and then sits down with her to watch some late-night tv. They end up falling asleep on the couch together like that

So yeah Becky kindof does similar crimes to Tobey, rage/pain/panic-induced destruction but she’s not public about it, so no one knows who’s doing it. The regret she feels afterwards becomes less and less, and after spending so much time with villains the way the city treated her badly not only becomes clearer to her, it exacerbates SOOO much to the point where she starts internally hating the city a bit. She doesn’t want to but she gets in these mental spirals a lot and starts nitpicking every little time something has happened that she felt stressed or unappreciated by people in her life, and it makes it worse

Her mental state isn’t exactly getting worse, she’s healing previously repressed trauma in a lot of ways, but it’s not really improving because as much as they want to help and as good of listeners a lot of the villains are, and as nice it is to be apart of their support system now, they don’t really encourage healthy coping mechanisms

this is kindof where things go static for a bit. WG is a secret villain in the city but like not really, she’s living with Twobrains who’s getting really attached to his new child and they’ve got a sweet relationship but it’s still built on a very rocky foundation, especially with Squeaky purposefully trying to turn WG evil

Okay goodnight AKFHAJDH

#wordgirl #hc/au #dr two brains #becky botsford #dadbrains but like not really #its my birthday I’m allowed to be self-indulgent on Wordgirl ansgt and fluff with tb #tobey mccallister #I like… to imagine fluffy scenes…. with them… they’re just livin together all happy aidjajs

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honey-lemonz · 3 years

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Kokushibou [Satisfied smut]

Xmale reader

3rd

Warning! Sexual Content!

Includes: stress sex, fight then fuck, koku being a bratty bottom, biting,blowjob, marking, multiple orgasms ,multiple rounds, over stimulation, dirty talk, fighting during sex, degradation (heavly). Hiding, slapping, spitng, and a spite fuck. Goodness..Enjoy!

Kokushibou pushed the archer against the wall as both were fighting.

For almost 7 hours.

(M/n) or the archer was happily living on his land and was fine but. The dam fake Samurai had other plans to upset that. Like attacking him. Gods they hated each other..

To the point it was not comical.. no no.

Sexual almost.

Two strong men grunting and groaning, one with blood all over him..for being the one with more hits. Sweat on their bodies and one with his hair arrayed. Kokushibou was losing it.

Internally and externally.

Internally he could not understand why he was feeling slightly aroused in battle, especially with this fucker. The archer demon named Yasumebu (M/n). A demon he hates because he reminds him of his late twin.

Someone who is superior and most likely would be superior to him.

He felt his cock trying to poke in his hakama pants. His kimono was sticking to the sides on his body as he was forced on to the ground. Yasumebe was about to prepare an arrow until..

Kokushibou moved his leg to reveal he was aroused but no on purpose or on invitation. But (m/n) was the only other demon around who could have done this to him. To him it was weird. He froze the arrow and squinted at the Samurai.

He but his foot on Kokushibou's growing hard on and moved it without any sign of being gently.

Kokushibou groaned and hissed at him. About half of his eyes, the three on the left pinched shut. It was not out of pain but only pleasure. This made Yasumebe..disgusted to say the least.

But also he wanted to kill the upper rank for what he had done...but torture is always a better cause.

"Look at you..you pervert. Getting aroused with me in a fight you picked..how promiscuous..really are that much of a bastard you need a dick in you to make you feel whole?"

He moved his foot more vigorously, it made the upper rank squeak but not moan. No! He will never get any sign of pleasure from him. "I-I am not, aany an c-can get aroused. Never for oor from you-"

"Oh cut the bullshit you bastard. You attack me in my home and demand I die so you an be the best? Or is it jealousy? Jealous of me to the point you want me to fuck you? Make you a proud man with my cock stuffed into all your slutty holes?"

Kokushibou's six eyes widen. He dropped his sword from the feeling. What feeling is this? He asked himself. Demons cannot blush or anything but he could feel his ears burn and his cock ache and throb.

He hated him to the point it turned him on? Is that possible? No.

He hated Yoriichi but they were brothers and that is just wrong...but this dam archer..

Before he realized his mistake of thinking to deep, he got an arrow into his wrist and an arrow shot his sword far away from him.

"Well took you too long to answer the question so it is a yes, isn't it? Gods, I hate you but I always give whores like you a chance. By now you'd probably be satisfied sucking a cock and dying. The great upper rank one? Such a fucking slut.."

The arrow glued his wrist together so he could not move em, he could make another sword but he had to concentrate to do that. He needed his full energy to do it but his energy was focused on..him..the archer and how he needed t̶o̶ ̶k̶i̶l̶l̶ him.

The archer pulled Kokushibou by his hair next to a stool, he was gracious or caring about it. He hated him and as did he.

But goodness did he remember how they fought. How strong he looked and how much strength it goes into an arrow. Not that he thought the sport was worth this time, oh never. But him...it made his condition worse. His cock was probably leaking streams of precum.

"Must you fight, I am helping you. Trust me I do not want a whore like you anyways, a good one can shut up and take it..you..most likely are a brat or bitch about it.."

Kokushibou hearing this moved his combined wrist up to scratch the shit out of his arms like a fucking cat.

"Goodness if you want to mark me already! Dam, such a needy bastard...beat how many times you sucked your masters cock all these years...most likely didn't make you choke or gag for the hell of it..but now worries like defeat and death.."

He brought his up to his face. Both were around the same height, so it worked. But Kokushibou was now on a bedding and he was looking up at him. So he felt smaller. He hated it. But it aroused him.

Hate what pleasures you. But between you and I..is not the first he gotten aroused at the thought..

"I make sure to be the one to make it your first.. now if you bite he I cut you cock off too. Got it?"

Hell to Yasumebe it was an excuse to just make him feel a better or worse pain.

"Tsk, as ever I would do as you ask yo-"

He got fucking bitched slapped in the face. "Now I'm going to say this again. You were the one who got to be a perv right? You can suck your masters cock for all of eternity then you can suck a real mans one and not a cowards. Something you need to do. Bite me and you can burn in the sun with my cum all over and inside you. Now be a good brat and suck."

He stood above him with a tight grip on his head and hair. (M/n)'s own cock was out and the marvel it was had the upper rank's mouth salivating.

He just stared at it, like it was something new to him. "What you never seen another mans dick before? Always ready to ride and suck one for you life, so be the slutty brat you are and do what you know best. Go one you need help is my cock to big for your mouth? The one you use to pledge and talk shit? "

In his head he muttered, probably eat it too.

Kokushibou opened his mouth to rebuttal..dumb move. A thick and long length was shoved down deep into his throat. Making his gag on spit and the length. H opened his lower eyes to see not even all of it was in his mouth. The hell?

(M/n) hissed and moved his hips back and forth, he was fucking his face. "Good little slut, do what you know best bastard. Then maybe I can fuck your other hole, maybe even be nice and let you cum.:

Kokushibou groaned on his cock and moved tied wrist to get a grip and move on his own accord, but no avail. His own cock was in need of help. His mind was erasing with how much pleasure would come if he would get fucked like a whore.

Which he is.

His tongue lapped at the lip and it moved in and out his throat. He was pumping his cock with his hands at the same momentum. So feverish and so tempting, it make slick warm between his thighs. His ass flexed at the homewreacking feeling.

His large cock pushing in and out of his made him close two sets of his eyes and let where his true ones stay open. (M/n) hissed and pushed his head all the way to the hilt of his cock and made his stay there. Groaning as Kokushibou's mouth filled with an ocean of cum he swallowed.

The taste wasn't as bad as he imagined. His cock spurted some ropes of cum but he knew with how his luck was playing it would not be the first time tonight. He was allowed to breathe and swallow the rest.

(M/n) looked down at him, his eyes were glossy and he was gasping for air.."Goodness you really are that bad.."

Kokushibou didn't care about his pride or his will, or even the envy. He felt hatred and pleasure. He needed to feel more, it was so addicting. It was like a slow burn he loved. The fire in the pit of his stomach burned for more. To be full , imagining that amount of cum stuffing his tight entrance or making his abdomen bulge..

To be breeded like a mating whore for him..

(M/n) pushed the Samurai to the side of the bedding and for him to be on his front. Ass up, he pulled the rest of his clothing off him. He would often scratch him or put marks he knew he could heal over..if he was concentrated enough.

His plump ass had goosebumps as his breath glazed across it. No kissing rather biting. He bite down on his ass. "For such a plump ass, you and kiss a lot of it aye? Sluts like you can be so troublesome but in the end.."

H sat up and got close to Kokushibou's ear. He moved his already messy and disheveled hair. His lapped his ear lobe and bite down to make it bleed.

"All of you are just bratty whores who need to be taught their place..." Two fingers were pushed into his slicked up entrance and they clung onto (M/n)'s fingers like glue. Kokushibou moaned out curses as he slumped down. He turned his head to the side to he the rest of his.

It felt too dam good. His fingers were so close to his prostate and so close to making his mind wipe to pure ecstasy and pleasure, even if he wasn't at it already. He moaned out without a care in the world. Asking no begging for more. It made (m/n) want to torture him more..

They did hate each other, but to one it was just funny.

"M-more, please fuck me more gods..please..fu-fu~ck.." he cursed as he spread his legs wider to make his fingers go deeper to touch or even at least brush his prostate.

His eyes were closed except the true ones, the only one he could keep open. Upper rank one was glossy and also looked like a bunch of whores eyes. He bucked his hips when his own forgotten and needy cock was slowly getting pumped.

"Wait- WAI- no ahh~" As soon as he pumped his length and pushed deeper into his hole, feeling for his prostate. He came again onto the bedding. He gasped loudly and slumped over. Kokushibou's cock twitched but was still erect.

"Well, what was it you were saying bastard? Or were you too busy cumming like a little whore to even finish? Hmm well it guess my cock can satisfy your perverted self, disgusting."

He spat on his gasping hole and moved his fingers out. The amount of slick or cum on his fingers made him laugh at the pathetic state of the upper rank. "Wow, such a slut for all this? Wonder how easy it is to break your ass and see you go silly."

He yanked almost his hips back up to his waist, Kokushibou swallowed thickly at what was about to happen. (M/n) stroke himself and placed the tip of his cock on Kokushibou's gaping whole.

"One more thing pervert.."

He leaned forward to upper rank one, Kokushibou felt his chilling breath on his ear. All his eyes widen as his cock slowly pushed into him.

He whispered:

"I win slut.."

He slammed his cock into him, pushing harshly onto his prostate and making the upper rank yelp and moan loudly. He almost screamed, (M/n) gave him no time to adjust. Rather he fucked him ruthlessly. He used his hair and yanked it, making him look at the ceiling and also to feel himself hit deeper and deeper.

Kokusibou was babbling about more and more. Or how he hated him. Just either 'fuck me' or 'i hate you'. The archer demon did not care. He was a slutty pervert who got what he wanted. A good cock with a good fuck.

"Such a tight- little slutty whole..gods, im going to loosen it up for you and make sure no one couuld fuck you like I- ah~could..you'd like that Kokushibou? To be a slut and ask others to fill you with their cocks like I do?"

He thrusted faster and harder, Kokushibo's prostate was abused and he felt himself cum again and again. Due to his unlimited stamina and would be fine. But he was feeling drained, he felt so fucking stupid. He was getting fucked stupid even more.

(M/n) hissed when Kokushibou tightened around him, he groaned and growled as he shot thick ropes of cum into his ass. Filling him over his opacity and making his abdomen stretch to accommodate to the amount.

All his eyes, closed with tear stains. Kokushibo's head was let go and he fell straight into the bedding. (M/n) looked at him and didn't bat an eye to spit on his face. His lower half was with filled with cum or covered in it. He cleaned himself and took his arrow out of his wrist and gathered the rest.

He looked one more time at the upper rank. The most feared of them all, looking like a slut in heat. He pulled the hair that would have been a neat pony tail but now is just out and disheveled. He made him look him in his eye.

"See now upper rank? Such a pathetic fighter and warrior, you did do one thing. Your were a decent fuck, not the best but decent." he patted his head and walked out the destroyed house.

Soon it was lit on fire. To destroy what ever was left.

Kokushibou luckily got away and out of the suns fury. But he did hate the archer demon with all he had, and envy him so much. But fuck... he sighed as he stroked his cock from the memory.

"He was right.."

His licked away the cum from his ass as he pulled away his fingers and from his hand. His cock throbbed at the dull feeling. The lackluster feeling inside him only his enemy gave him.

"I am such a whore for yasumebe.."

#demon slayer x reader #x male reader #kokushibo x reader #kokushibo #Kokushibou xmale reader #uppermoon one #upper rank one #smut #Kokushibou smut #top male reader

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natedogx15 · 2 years

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Marinette Mistaking Adrien’s identity vs Adrien Mistaking Ladybug’s Identity

I’ve been meaning to make this but have kept forgetting to. So it looks like my prediction on how a lot of hardcore Adrien stans reaction to Strike Back was right. So, go me there I guess. I’d just like to point out a couple of things once again about this situation and how it’s similar to what Adrien did in the previous season but so much different.

I’ve seen some people have already done this but I’d like to give it a try in my own words since I can’t really get it out of my head.

Both Marinette and Adrien were in a situation where they mixed up their partner on one side of the identity for someone else. For Marinette, she mixed Adrien up with Felix again. Adrien on the other hand has mixed the real Ladybug up with someone else twice as well. However, the differences between them is the context in which it happened, the reactions, and when it happened.

Marinette’s first time was in Felix’s debut episode where Felix attempted to make Adrien look bad and lose his friends. However, Marinette came to the realization of who Felix wasn’t when he tried to force a kiss on her and she knows or “knows” how Adrien acts.

Adrien’s first time mistaking someone for Ladybug was in Puppeteer 2. Puppeteer brought a wax figure of Ladybug to life and the wax figure attempted to take Cat Noir’s ring. They did so by going in for a kiss while sneakily trying to slip the ring off when Cat Noir was distracted. However, Adrien as Cat Noir only came to this realization after he smelt wax not because of the way his partner was acting and how different it was.

The second time that Marinette mistakes Felix for Adrien Felix was dressed as Adrien again. This time, though, Marinette was also being affected by Risk the Akuma. She wasn’t in the right state of mind when she made this decision.

The second time Adrien mistook someone for Ladybug was in Ladybug the episode when Mayura made a Sentimonster to look like Ladybug. Unlike Marinette’s second time mixing up the identities, though, Adrien wasn’t under any sort of influence besides his own wants. The Sentibug played the part of the Ladybug he wanted; one that loves him instead of the partner he has. This was in season three so Cat Noir had ample time to understand his partner’s thought process but he didn’t care. He wanted the fantasy of her over the real her.

I’d also like to bring up the timeline and the gaps in time between when these events happened. I’ve noticed that isn’t a subject that’s talked about a lot.

Thomas Astruc has stated that the events of Miraculous Ladybug, at least between seasons 1-3, are all in the same year. Also, both of Adrien’s times in which he mistook someone else for Ladybug are in season three. However, Marinette’s first time mistaking someone else for Adrien was in season three as well, but her second time mistaking someone for Adrien was during the season four finale.

Puppeteer 2 is the 21st episode of season three production-wise and Ladybug the episode is the 24th episode of season three production-wise. That means that there are two episodes between the two. Going by the same logic that this shows events are in the same year, the time interval isn’t that much. If my guess is right, I'd say it’s at most two weeks to a month since Cat Noir made his first mistake to his second mistake. If it’s even that it could have been less.

Felix’s debut episode was the 23rd episode of season 3 while Strike Back is the season four finale. Going by the same logic then it could be that the time interval between these two events are about a couple of months to a few months apart to longer.

While the events may look similar they are very different and can show the differences in Marinette and Adrien’s characters. Marinette cares a lot about Adrien and took the time to try to understand what he will and wont do at least in his civilian persona and the second time she fell for the act it took the influence of an Akuma to help. However, Adrien doesn’t seem to bother with this as Cat Noir and more or less focuses on just getting Ladybug to love him not caring if it may be the actual Ladybug.

#ml spoilers #adrien salt #marinette dupain cheng #ml salt #miraculous ladybug discussion

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yesimwriting · 3 years

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The Needs of Pain (part 2)

A/n since y’all liked part one!!

... i think i could make a part 3?? we’ll see lol

This is the LONGEST thing i’ve written on here wow,, and the smuttiest

Warnings: teasing, oral, unprotected sex (pls this is my first time writing full smut be gentle lol)

Exhaustion is an odd result of pain. I didn’t think I was that tired after the burn. I certainly didn’t feel sleepy while Kirigan cleaned my shoulder and brushed his soft lips and sharp teeth along my neck to distract me from the pain. Why am I even thinking of that? Of the way his breath felt against my skin, the way his tongue soothed any bites he left against my skin. I breathe out flatly.

Stop thinking of him. Stop thinking of him in that context--that’s why he did it. He enjoys getting under people’s skin, that’s why he’s always insulting the way I see the world. My hand reaches to my neck, touching my skin where I can still feel his lips on my skin, tracing the faint marks I had seen in the bathroom mirror.

I should have asked the healer to get rid of them before they fully formed, but the thought of showing them to anyone was too embarrassing to bear. I force my hand away, dropping it onto my pillow.

He had acted so strange today, he had been so blunt. It was a tactic. He wants to be in my head and I’m giving him what he wants. I sigh, rolling over and pulling my duvet further up my body. It’s too hot for this. Ugh. I kick the duvet off of my legs, letting my nightgown wrinkle up my body. Strong hands could pull the fabric up in a similar, yet much more euphoric way.

No. Who’s thoughts are these? The fact that I picture the same hands that dabbed at my burn earlier today has me questioning my sanity. I can’t sleep like this. Kirigan wanted to be in my head and now he is. Damn him. I can’t stand him which means I can never have him.

Desire has nothing to do with tolerance. The thought leaves my face warm and stomach twisted.

I sit up sharply, sliding out of bed tiredly. I’ll get some air and everything will be fine. The moon will clear my mind.

The Little Palace is strangely twisting at night, all long shadows and yellow lantern light. I slip out of my room quickly, but my thoughts are not immediately banished with the change of scenery. I must be ill. Infection must have set in regardless of my efforts and the healer sealed it beneath my skin and now it’s impacting me. Fever. I’m delusional with fever.

“I didn’t take you the kind for a late night trist.”

His voice leaves the hairs on the back of my neck standing like soldiers at attention. I manifested him the same way people manifest the devil. “Air.” My defense is childish. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d get some air.”

The sound of even footsteps leaves me frozen in place. “What keeps someone like you awake?” It’s like he can read through me. “Thoughts of me?”

He can never know. “Obviously.”

My sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed, he lets out an almost humored breath. “Or perhaps it’s pain.”

The comment is so confusing I almost don’t realize he’s bringing up my shoulder injury. How had I let him see me so vulnerable? Why did he seem somewhat concerned in his own way?

“My shoulder’s perfectly fine.” Good. A normal direction for this conversation to head. “It took the Healer all of two minutes.”

The touch on my shoulder is so sudden I almost jump. Kirigan doesn’t shy away at that, fingers firmly brushing down the skin. “It feels the same.”

I could scream. His strange observation means nothing to me, but the implication is enough to drive me mad. The implication that he knows my skin well enough to be able to judge whether the healed skin feels different is sickening. I’m tired of this.

I turn on my heels, all of my tiredness and irritation twisting in me. “Even if it didn’t, it’s none of your concern.”

“I didn’t realize you were extra irritable when you’re tired.”

Every conversation with him leaves me feeling petulant. “I’m not tired.” I cross my arms, keep my expression set. “I just--I wanted to get some air.”

“Hm.” He takes a step forward, preparing to close the small distance I’d managed to create between us. “And why is that?”

The question leaves me irritated in an odd way. A flat way. There’s a narcissistic entitlement in that question. An entitlement to my thoughts. I shrug. “I hoped it’d make me tired.”

Kirigan draws his eyebrows together, curiosity and something resembling amusement playing at his expression. “If you’d like to be tired, I think I know a few ways to be of assistance.”

A faint, aggravating warmth comes to my face. Not only did my lie earn me a ridiculous innuendo, it’s also trapped me in a corner I cannot escape. Healing from the burn had left me pathetically drowsy. There’s no way he can’t see through me, a tired haze has to be visible on my face. My eyelids feel weighted and I’m too distracted by my deep longing for sleep to hold onto irritation.

“I’m sure I’ll manage on my own.” The words are not meant to be a challenge, just a way to dismiss him. I don’t think he takes them that way.

He draws his eyebrows together, eyes threatening to lose that curious quality. Kirigan steps forward, I step back blankly, desperate to keep enough distance to keep what’s left of my wits about me. He ignores my reaction, taking another step forward. I take another step back. My back touches the wall. I am a mouse and he’s an excited cat.

“You don’t have to,” his voice is too low, too intimate, “I’m not sure that’s something you want to understand.”

My chin raises just slightly, a silent protest. “Dependency is a fatal flaw.”

“So is desire,” his reply is much too quick. “Desire is worse, because one can resist dependency based on pride...but desire, that is something that one sacrifices for.”

Maybe if I was less tired I’d bother to interpret his words a little more. But all I can focus on is his tone--the quality of it. “You sound heavy.” My voice is as light as the night breeze I was craving moments ago. “But you always sound heavy.” It’s the wistful observation of someone slowly disappearing. “At least you’re pretty,” I muse, falling more and more distant by the second.

Something soft breaks across his features, his lips quirking. “Pretty?”

I rest my back against the wall comfortably, eyes shutting without permission. “I’m sure I’ll regret that comment in a moment.”

He stays silent, but his presence does not disappear. I can’t tell if I’m glad for it. The warm touch on my shoulder startles me out of my drowsy trance. Panic has me ready to jump off the wall, but Kirigan brushes his thumb up and down my shoulder. His touch sets any skin that comes in contact with him aflame. I shouldn’t find the gesture so comforting. My eyes flutter shut again, my body relaxing against the wall. When my protest dies out before it begins, Kirigan shifts closer. I’m confused, but too at peace to answer. Something velvety and warm brushes against my collar. Soft and warm and electric. He’s kissing my skin again.

My lips part in hopes of arguing, but when his teeth graze the skin he already marked earlier I’m gone. My eyes shut again, but this time it’s different. Pleasure and drowsiness clear me of all inhibitions as his touch becomes more and more assured. I let him test me, his mouth moving against any and all exposed skin. I don’t even stop him when I feel his hands graze the hem of my nightgown, wrinkling it the way I imagined earlier.

“Kirigan.” I need to find my strength, but what’s the point of strength when his touch leaves me so warm? The only acknowledgement of my protest he offers me is the lingering squeeze of my thigh before his long fingers begin to graze towards the inside of my thighs. I have no choice but to let his lips brush up my neck, his teeth grazing my skin the way they did earlier today. “Kirigan.” I try to sound firmer, but he destroys the rest of my sentence before I have the chance to get it out. His teeth nip the base of my neck, ruining my protest for a second time.

Maybe if I was less tired I’d be able to fight him off a little better, but I’m so drowsy I had trouble thinking before he started touching me. My eyes shut in both bliss and exhaustion. His thumb presses into my hip. Something in me stalls as his fingers brush the hem of my underwear--testing me, challenging me. I open my eyes on instinct, but he remains unbothered, slipping his thumb beneath the only fabric that divides us in order to better grip my hip.

I stiffen because of how badly I want to melt. This is bad. This is insane. We’re in a hallway in the middle of the night and he’s General Kirigan. Whatever attraction I feel is another tactic to manipulate me.

“We need to stop.” The command is weak, my voice as dry as my resolve.

He angles his head in order to regard me a little better. His expression is one of mock confusion as he smirks. Actually smirks. “Stop what?” False innocence drips from his voice as he leans towards me, expression amused as his lips near my own. “I haven’t even started yet.” My eyes widen, something that amuses him. “Y/n?”

I’m left on edge. I’m left wanting. My lips part flatly, but words feel so distant. “Yes?”

“What happened earlier?” His voice is the kind of sinful that’s meant to coax. Kirigan brushes his thumb across my shoulder, eyes watching mine cautiously. “How did you get burned?”

I push against the sultry quality of his voice. “I told you--an accident.”

“Hm.” His eyebrows draw together in a surprisingly soft way. I stare at him freely, but he ignores my gaze, eyes locked on my newly healed skin. Is he truly that concerned? “Whose accident?”

I swallow once. “My own.” He still isn’t looking at me. “I’m not exactly the most coordinated person, you’ve witnessed my clumsiness yourself.”

Kirigan is not convinced. Perhaps he will never fully buy my partial lie. His grip on me hardens. Restraint. I may not be able to win against his paranoia, but I might be able to distract him. Cautiously, I move one hand forward, touching the hand that’s on my shoulder. I hesitate. Touching him without prompting almost feels too intimate. I’m being ridiculous. I brush my fingers against the back of his palm, letting my touch trail up his forearm.

“Y/n.” My name borders on a warning.

I suppress a smile, playing into my sleepiness as I tilt my head to the side. “Yes?”

He doesn’t reply, expression tightening as my hand snares around his wrist, pulling it off my shoulder with more care than I thought myself capable of. The intensity of his gaze is enough to burn me. I turn my full attention to his hand. I’d never admit this out loud, but this isn’t the first time I’ve thought about how objectively attractive his hands are. I kiss each of his knuckles slowly, brushing my lips against his skin tentatively.

To my surprise, he allows my indulgence. I glance at him through my lashes. Kirigan’s eyes are shut, expression bordering on pained. “Kirigan?”

He opens his eyes but his expression does not ease. His other hand leaves my thigh, grabbing the low collar of my nightgown with such a fierce speed it takes me a second to realize what’s happening. He pulls me away from the wall in a way that borders on violent.

“I don’t know who you’re protecting, but I guarantee you they’re not worth it.” The words are acidic. He’s seething. “I grow tired of your resistance.”

If he hadn’t transformed into something so untamed, I might have had enough gall to tell him I grow tired of being toyed with. I say nothing, instead I take in the abrasiveness of his anger, the tension of his grip on the thin fabric that clothes me. I am unflinching in my assessment in the most tired way possible, eyes struggling not to shut and body desperate to rest, but even more desperate for him. His eyes stare into mine, searching for something I am too far gone to offer. He must realize my sleepiness is genuine because he soon drops his gaze, taking his time in analyzing the even rise and fall of my chest as well as the hint of cleavage his grip on my nightgown is exposing. Pure heat finds itself in my face, chest, and worst of all---core. His staring lacks any shame.

Kirigan parts his lips as if to speak but then instead takes a moment to lick them. The thought of his tongue in relation to lips only makes the burning in me worse. It’s practically an ache. A needy one.

“I grow weary of your lack of understanding.”

Understanding? “What is there to understand?”

His head angles itself to one side but he doesn’t meet my gaze. The hold he has on me loosens just enough so that his hold on me is no longer taut. That should not disappoint me the way it does. I wait patiently, ignoring the bundle of unexplained nerves in my stomach as best as I can. Something strange colors his features when he finally looks at me again, something almost vulnerable.

“I brought you here.” He sounds farther from me than ever. “I…” His exhale is gentle, but his expression is quick to harden. “Who are you so willing to protect?”

I must be really tired because his voice sounds like it borders on heart ache. If I didn’t fear Arthur’s safety I’d tell Kirigan everything if it meant his pain would dissipate. I never thought Kirigan’s potential pain would bother me, but now that I’ve seen him look stricken by something so weighted--now that I’ve seen the way he wears pain--I don’t want to be the one to give him that. I want to be the one to give him some kind of sanctuary. The thought leaves me with a desire to flea.

“Will you just believe me when I say it’s no one?” In a way that’s the truth. Arthur is not particularly significant unless you’re a young Grisha female with a desire for heart ache. “No one worth mentioning at least.”

He’s quick to retighten his hold on my nightgown, leaving the fabric taut and more of me exposed. “You being desperate to protect them makes them worth interest.” A different response than I expected.

My lips thin. “Only because it was a small accident. They don’t deserve to be punished over the briefest loss of focus.”

I take his silence as an indicator that he is considering my words. His free hand finds my shoulder as he pulls me even closer to him by the fabric he’s gripping. “And if I were to revoke the threat of punishment?” His voice is the definition of temptation, low and promising and coddling me with its sinfulness. I still as Kirigan leans forward so that his lips are practically on my ear. “Then would you tell me? If I released you from the binds of your nobility?” My lips part but I have no words prepared. Before I can think of what to say, his lips graze the side of my jaw before his teeth nip at the end of my ear. “Tell me just to humor me.”

The command doesn’t make sense to me, but from his lips it feels important. “You won’t hurt them for what happened?”

His voice seems rougher than before, “Would that make a difference?”

“It would make all the difference.” I don’t like the honesty of my words.

Kirigan allows one hand to trail down my waist--a gesture I consider obscenely intimate when paired with the soft brush of his lips on my collar. “I already know who.” His voice is a dark hum. “I was always going to know one way or another--but it’s good to know you would have told me.”

My stomach lurches, dread pouring into me like tar. Before fear can force me to take action, Kirigan begins to leave open mouth kisses from the top of my jaw to the bottom of my neck, taking his time to assault any spot of skin with his tongue that he wants. This reminds me too much of earlier--touches meant to distract from pain with the use of pleasure.

“Are you--” His mouth is now on my collar, threatening to destroy my question. “Are you going to hurt him?”

At that Kirigan straightens. The sudden lack of contact leaves me cold. I shouldn't be thinking of him. Of his touch. “I’m curious,” he draws out each syllable, delighting in my nerves, “Would you bear his punishment?”

I’m not sure. I hate that. I haven’t known Arthur for that long, and while he’s kind, he also seems to see all women as replaceable. That isn’t reason for him to endure Kirigan’s punishment but I don’t know him well enough to just blindly agree to that. I loathe myself for not being noble enough to take Arthur’s punishment instantly.

“What kind of punishment?”

Kirigan’s expression twists into a greedy smile. He pushes me back easily, pressing me into the wall with more confidence than ever. I’m silent in my confusion until he presses himself against me and I feel something hard and bulging press into where I’m neediest. I stifle a gasp of surprise and something similar to pleasure. “I’m sure I could think of something for you.” I’d care more about my confusion if hot need wasn’t flooding my thoughts and my body with undeniable desperation. “I haven’t even spoken to him.” I exhale, untrusting relief desperate to escape me. Kirigan is quick to lean forward, lips brushing my ear as he prepares to whisper. “I’m more likely to harm him because he has your favor than anything else.”

Warmth burns my face. “He doesn’t--he’s not exactly the one that holds my favor.”

The heat of his breath adds to my burning as he presses his bulge into my core again. “And who does?”

I’m not sure what he considers favor, but if it has anything to do with wanting he wins. But he can never know that. “There are some contenders, but no one yet.”

His hand moves off my hip and nears my throat. “Would it be too bold to assume I’m on the short list?”

He’s two steps away from taking me in an open hallway, I doubt he finds much bold. “Do you want to be?”

Kirigan’s hand tightens on my throat. “I’ve made it clear from the beginning what I want.” His words are lethal and each syllable has him restricting my airflow a little more. Something in me must be broken because my neediness only worsens. “I brought you here because I see all that you could be. Forget being a Saint, we could be gods.” The sentiment is so raw it’s almost harder to bear than his tight grip on my neck. He leans close again, his scent only adding to my budding lightheadedness. “Say the word, and I could have you praising me like I’m already a god.” My stomach knots in both nerves and insatiable hunger. “Though I’m the one that would be doing the worshipping.”

My resolve is shattered, leaving me broken and twisting. He releases his hold on my neck in order to move his hand beneath my chin. There is nothing gentle about the way he jerks my head forward, forcing me to look into his eyes. Something about the look he gives me has me melting. His eyes are searching for something in me.

He must find whatever he’s looking for because I feel his touch against my heat, fingers pressing against fabric. I bite my lip on instinct, suppressing the sound of my undoing. Kirigan’s eyes never leave mine as the hand on my chin moves to brush against my bottom lip.

“I can only give you what you want if you tell me what that is.”

He exhales slowly, pressing his thumb against my lip downwards. My mouth parts on instinct, something that he takes well. His thumb enters my mouth slowly, taking in my reaction as I taste his skin on my tongue. Kirigan pulls his thumb away from my tongue slowly, a thin string of saliva connecting him to my mouth. With one swift tug, his free hand pulls the only fabric separating him from where I want him most down my thighs. His expression reveals nothing as his thumb, still wet with my saliva, is pressed against my core. His touch teases my clit, just barely brushing where I need him most. The whine that escapes me is so desperate I’m ashamed I can’t help it.

“So wet already,” his appraisal is gentle, the praise whispered against my throat as his lips brush against my neck. “So wet, so needy that you’d let me take you in this hallway and I’ve hardly touched you.” His finger presses further into me. I let out another pathetic breath. “A pity, someone like you--so painfully under cared for.” I’m reduced to nothing by his words and touch. “What I’d give to undue you here, against the wall--I’d have you crying so loudly everyone would know that I’ve claimed you, that I’ve made you mine.” Before I can reflect on his words, he steps back, pulling my underwear back up as quickly as he yanked it down.

I let out an instinctual whine. My hand moves to his arm, grabbing him like he’s the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth. “What--”

Kirigan squeezes my hand, a predator’s smile on his lips. “I want to feel all of you,” his hand squeezes my hip, “I can’t exactly do that against a wall, dove of mine,” he leans forward, lips brushing against my jaw in a way that leaves me chilled and melting at the same time, “At least not the first time.”

His whisper forces my breathing to hitch, a fact that he notices with an amused look as his thumb brushes against my collar. Kirigan pulls me away from the wall easily. Even the causal touch feels electric against my skin.

The walk towards my room is tense, his hands never leaving me as if he’s aware of how necessary it is to keep me distracted to ward off my better sense. When we reach my door, Kirigan opens it like it’s his. Entitled. Typical.

I step into the room, his touch lingering on my arm. A brief shyness pushes itself into my chest. I had let Kirigan touch me in a public space and lead me back to my room. The door closes. I don’t turn.

Kirigan’s hand squeezes my shoulder. “Shy, now?” His question is teasing, rekindling the fire beneath my skin as he places an open mouth kiss on my neck. He plays with the thin strap of my nightgown, pushing it off my shoulder. He kisses down my neck, collarbone, and shoulder. My inhibitions are melted away again. “When your breathing stalls like that,” his whisper is enough to elicit a desperate shudder, “I am left desperate.”

He leans forward, mouth trailing down my chest, coming dangerously close to my breasts. The electric current of his touch is all consuming and addicting. I press my back into his chest. His hands are the opposite of shy, touching me everywhere except where I’m most desperate. Kirigan’s hand places itself between my thighs, using his thumb to tease my entrance. I let out a needy sound. And then he retracts his hand, grabbing my shoulders and turning me in one swift motion.

“Kirigan.”

His eyes are dark, clouded by something I don’t understand but am too aware that I reciprocate. “Tell me that I have your favor.” His words are taut, bordering on snapping. Kirigan’s grip on me tightens hard enough to bruise, an assertive need taking over him. “That you want me.”

Desire, pride, and rationality twist in my stomach, leaving me too distracted to form words. My gaze drops to the ground on instinct, something Kirigan clearly finds unacceptable because he’s quick to grab my chin and force my eyes to meet his.

I swallow once, courage withering beneath the look in his eyes. It’s as twisted as a spindling shadow, but the look is fierce admirational, appreciation so deep I could drown in it. It scares and consols me all at once. “I want you.” There’s something pained about such powerful emotion. I loathe and am empowered by it all at once. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything.” The words leave my throat scorching with their sincerity.

As soon as the words leave me, he’s closing the distance between us, the slightest exhale of tension leaving his lips before they meet mine, prepared to devour me. I reciprocate his actions on instinct alone. There is no hesitation, no space, and yet it is not enough. Not enough and yet I don’t know how to be closer. But Kirigan does. One of his hands cup my cheek, coaxing me towards him as if I could possibly have the will to leave him. He steps forward, guiding me to step back. I obey fluidly until I feel something hit the back of my legs. It’d startle me if I wasn’t so consumed by his touch.

His mouth begins to move away from my skin. I chase after him, desperate to keep him touching me. He stops me by placing a hand on my shoulder, a warning about my neediness. I pout, but as he studies me I pant. Maybe the excuse for air was a good idea. I don’t fight the uneasiness of my breathing as I hold Kirigan’s gaze. He regards me with a patience I consider unbearable, taking in the determined look in his eyes, my swollen lips, disheveled hair, and the top of my night gown that’s half falling off.

It’s in this moment I realize how much more vulnerable than him I am.

If Kirigan notices any shift in me, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he adjusts his hand on my cheek, his thumb brushing the hot skin gently. “You are everything.” His voice is cracking glass. “Everything that’s good, at least.”

Maybe he did notice my initial reaction because I am no longer certain that I am the one that’s most vulnerable. “You’re better than you think.” I only say this because it would only weigh on me more to stay silent. “I see it and you don’t want me to.”

His hand continues to stroke my cheek. “I want you to see all of me.” The heavy beating of my heart seems to stall in my chest. Kirigan drops his hand before grasping the hem of my nightgown. He pulls the fabric upwards easily, bundling the fabric above my hip. “I want you to…” He exhales flatly, pulling the fabric upwards even more. Nerves flood my stomach as he leans towards me, kissing down my jaw. “To know me,” he whispers against my throat.

I am nothing but uneven breaths as he mouth moves down my chest, stalling only once he’s reached my breasts. He pushes me forward easily, guiding me so that I’m laying on my bed. He’s quick to move over me, kissing up my neck as he adjusts so that I’m against the headboard.

When he pulls away again, I’m left pouting. He grins, fueled by my disappointment. “Don’t worry,” he breathes, fingers hooking around the waistband of my underwear before tugging it down my legs easily, “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Being so exposed has my doubts flooding back, but Kirigan is quick to fight against my instincts in a way only he seems capable of. He squeezes the inside of my upper thigh before leaning down, pressing his mouth onto the skin his fingers just touched. His kisses here are meant to leave me even more desperate, each nip and fleeting pass of his tongue is lazy yet intentional. I am incapable of doing else besides letting out pathetic whines.

He ignores where I need him most, kissing up my thigh, across my lower stomach, and then down my other thigh. Kirigan continues the pattern across my skin, ignoring any pleas I swallow my pride to give. He is not rushed by my words or cries or the occasional desperate adjustment of my hips.

Kirigan lifts his head slightly, releasing my inner thigh with an obscene ‘pop’. “Patience.” His fingers trail up my thigh and over my core, teasing my entrance with his lithe fingers. “Unless you’re ready to beg?”

It’s a challenge, like everything else. The urge to give him my pride to satisfy the electric desire I’m not sure I’m capable of bearing. But then I note his tense hold on my thigh. A sign of restraint, of want.

“And if I want you to beg for me?” I don’t know where the words come from, but they charge the room with potential.

Something strange crosses his fingers before his lips tilt upwards in a dark way. “Would you like the strength of that? To have someone like me powerless before you?” My face warms. Kirigan leaves a lingering kiss on my thigh before he moves off the bed. I sigh at the loss of contact, but my tired neediness stalls at the sound of his belt coming undone. “I want to see you on your knees.” I sit up carelessly, desperate to obey him. I’m kneeling in front of him in an instant, taking in his length. The size of it has me gaping. “Open your mouth.”

I take the order more eagerly than I should, but I make no move to take him. This is just another challenge. I keep my eyes on his as I stick my tongue out before licking the bottom of his member all the way up to his tip. The sound he lets out is pure sin. I lick his tip slowly, each motion of my tongue is strategic as I finally place him in my mouth. I hollow my cheeks, moving up and down slowly.

The pace is not enough for him, he grips my hair from my scalp as he thrusts into my mouth. The motion is more powerful than I expected and I am left unable to breathe. My slight gag does the opposite of discourage him, he repeats the motion again and again, pushing himself into me until I can feel him in my throat.

The sounds he lets out are a chorus to me, but it’s not enough. I need more control, I need a way to make him beg. I raise a hand, wrapping it around the base that I cannot fit into my mouth. I stroke him once slowly, making a point as I try to push myself back in order to make him want me more.

He groans again. I make a point of pushing myself off of him. Precum protrudes his tip. I lick it off of him slowly. I lick up and down his member in the smallest way possible.

“Y/n,” the restraint in his voice fuels my teasing, “Tease me and you’ll still be overwhelmed by want when the sun rises.”

A pout tugs at my lips before I open my mouth again, taking Kirigan to my limit. He lets me set the pace of my bobs at first, but then he becomes desperate, holding me in place by the roots of my hair as he moans and thrusts into me without restraint. He ignores my choking as he continues until he throws his head back, letting out a quick praise of my name.

He finishes in my mouth and I swallow all he offers me greedly. I back off my knees slowly, throat burning as his member leaves my mouth. “On the bed.” He’s turned into something insatiable. “Now.”

I move back to my bed, laying in the same position as before. He takes his time approaching me. When he finally gets to me, he kisses my thighs easily. I let out a small breath before something that’s pure pleasure meets my core. His tongue laps upwards lazily, grazing my clit but not quite touching it. My hips thrust towards his face, but with hand he holds me down. A coil in my stomach continues to build as he angles himself more purposefully, tongue finally taking care of my clit. My gasps become less and less reasonable as he continues to lap at all that my body has to offer. The coil tightens, I see stars--and then, like cruelty personified, he pulls away. His absence leaves me ready to cry out.

My desperation only fuels Kirigan as he lines himself with my entrance. Concern twists my stomach as I consider how full my mouth felt when he was in me. I expect some level of warning, but he thrusts into me with no warning. I let out a pathetic cry, but that means nothing to him as he pulls out just to thrust into me with full force again.

“Only I can hurt you,” he demands, thrusting into me as I call out his name. My eyes water at the sensation of such fullness, pleasure and pain combining themselves in a way that leaves me incapable of thought. “Your tears,” he muses, one hand moving to wipe at a tear rolling down my cheek, “Are mine.”

His thrusts become more and more brutal, less and less even. Each movement of his body in mine leaves me begging for more and less at the same time. He continues until the coil in my stomach tenses to the point of breaking.

“Kirigan,” I manage, voice far away, “I’m going t--”

“I know,” he offers, “finish with me, dove.” His hand finds my throat, adding the slightest bit of restrained pressure. “And do not hold in your cries.”

Two more sharp thrusts have us both finishing, calling out for each other as we try to draw out the high of our orgasms together.

We stay intertwined like that for longer than we should, but then Kirigan stands. I envy his ability to do so. I don’t call for him even though I still don’t want to be alone here. A moment later, I hear him approach. I’m too drowsy to ask what he’s doing as a damp towel is wiped against my forehead and inner thighs.

When he’s finished cleaning me, some raw emotion settles in my chest. “Are you leaving?”

Kirigan hesitates. “Not if you don’t want me to.”

I roll over, the motion leaves my body aching. Kirigan accepts my invitation, crawling beneath my sheets and adjusting our bodies so that he can rest his hand on my back.

Tags: @luminous-99 @voyevoda-thejoy @voidmalfoy

@i-padfootblack-things

@all-art-is-quite-useless @buckverse @mandowh0re @benbarnes-supremacy

@we-love-our-bandz @fire-in-her-veinz @weirdowithnobeardo @bvudzsoo @kaque @ponyboys-sunsets @coldlilheart @granillx @dreamohlittledreamofme @sanna2020 @zaynzierulez

@ive-died-everday-waiting-for-you @xxaerynxx @ralesera @tea-effect

@tranquillitymoon

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone show #shadow and bone imagine #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan imagine #general kirigan x you #general kirigan x reader smut #grishaverse #grisha #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse x you #the darkling #the darkling x reader #the darkling smut #the darkling x you #the darkling imagine

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sebystann · 3 years

Text

There’s nothing more disheartening than the love of your life and realizing that they’re just not ready to be with you in a way that you deserve.

Y/n was so invested in Bucky, and it was mentally draining. She took the time out of her day to make sure he was okay or to talk. Usually, he was busy with work or hanging out with some of his work buddies. He’d always promise to call her back, but he never did; it always slipped his mind.

Of course, y/n would make excuses for him when he would forget to call or even when he stood her up.

“Bucky would be perfect if only he’d remember to show up…” she’d sigh to her friends, Natasha and Wanda.

Natasha would roll her eyes, “If he needs to change y/n, that should be a red flag.”

Wanda would agree to add, “Bucky’s a great guy and all, but he’s been through a lot. He’s trying to figure out who he is, and he’s not looking for a relationship; he’s told you this.”

Of course, she ignored the things her friends tried to explain to her. She didn’t want to give up on the thought of a relationship with the man that made her feel so special. Maybe it was the hopeless romantic that she was or just that she was a little bit naïve.

Bucky was so obvious to y/n’s feelings for him. He just thought she was just nice, that she was just a great friend. He never thought in a million years that the girl could be hopelessly in love with him. Well, that is until Sam pointed it out to him one night after y/n was making them dinner in Bucky’s kitchen.

“So, has she told you yet?” Sam questioned Bucky.

Bucky looked over at Sam, confused, “Told me what?”

Sam chuckles, shaking his head at Bucky, “I don’t know, man, isn’t it obvious?”

“Is what obvious, Sam? Stop beating around the bush; spit it out, man.”

“Pretty girl in there,” Sam says point towards the kitchen, “the one you are taking for granted is totally in love with you.”

Bucky lets out a deep, hearty laugh but quickly stops once he realizes that Sam was indeed not joking.

“Uh, there’s no way y/n is in love with me.”

Sam rolls his eyes, “Whatever you say, dude, even Steve can see it. I mean, pay more attention to how she treats you versus how she treats Steve or me.”

Bucky nods, pondering on the idea of her loving him. She had been a light in the dark for him, something he didn’t want to lose. Bucky didn’t want a relationship, and he wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment after he had gone through it. He just wanted to learn who he was first before he let himself dive into a relationship. Not only that, he needed to heal as well; his past life, the Winter Soldier, still hunts him.

Y/n was a great woman, and she was beautiful. Any guy would be lucky to have her. Shit, Bucky would but lucky to call her his, but he’d be damned if he’d given her any false hope.

He took Sam’s advice and paid more attention to how y/n treated him, oh and did he see a difference. Y/n would bend over backward to make sure Bucky was okay. If he’d call in the middle of the night, she’d be there. She was there no matter what. It scared Bucky a bit because he didn’t even try, and she still loved him.

Bucky thought the best idea was to confront y/n.

Y/n’s apartment was so much homier than Bucky’s, and he liked that. It gave him a sense of relief for a moment. He plays with y/n’s tiny hairless kitten; he loves cats, even this weird bald little guy Alford.

“Alford loves you, Bucky.” y/n walks into the small living room wearing a cute baby blue sundress.

Bucky loved when she wore sundresses, and it just made her look so innocent and beautiful.

He smiles, placing the kitten down, chuckling, “Yeah, too bad it looks like a ball sack.”

She laughs, shaking her head, “Hey, don’t disrespect my little bald baby! But what did you want to talk about?”

Bucky quickly stops laughing, looking over towards the window at the now setting sun. He couldn’t look y/n in the eyes; he was afraid he’d chicken out. He needed to know if it was true if she loved him more than a friend.

He takes a deep break, “Y/n you know I love you, right?”

“Yeah, I love you too?” confused she sits beside him.

Bucky turns to look at y/n, “Be honest with me y/n do you love me a little more than a friend should?”

“I— yeah, I honestly do.” She sighs, playing with the hem of her sundress.

“Oh um, well, I don’t know what I was expecting you to say.” He chuckles.

Y/n looks up at Bucky, grabbing his hands, “I know you’re not ready right now, Buck, but I’m willing to wait for you. I’ve been waiting for a while now… I don’t know when I fell for you, but one day it just happened.”

He takes a long sigh, “Look; I don’t want you to wait for me y/n. I want you to go out there and live your life okay. I want you to date, to find someone who you don’t have to wait for. I love you, but I don’t know if it will ever be in the way you want me to.”

y/n shakes her hand, dropping Bucky’s hand. She wipes her cheeks, cleaning the tears that escaped her eyes, “You know Wanda and Nat tried to warn me that this would be the outcome. Of course, I was naïve and didn’t listen. You know why?”

She didn’t wait for Bucky to answer before continuing, “Because I thought one day you might realize that I was everything you needed. Shit, I feel so stupid; I mean, I’ve wasted so many sleepless nights worrying about you. Making sure you were okay and taking care of you. How could you have not known that I had feelings for you?”

“Please don’t cry! Okay, look, I didn’t realize it because I didn’t want to lose you. You bring light to my life. You keep the darkness at bay y/n. I can’t lose you. But I also can’t force myself to have feelings for you.”

“I’m sorry, it’s not your fault. It just hurts; I had my hopes up. I had this fantasy of a happy ever after with you.” y/n let out a sob.

Bucky pulls her into his arms, embracing her, “I’m sorry too.”

Unrequited love, a painful one-sided love. Simply put, it’s hell.

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retrievablememories · 3 years

Text

love thy neighbor | kun (m)

title: love thy neighbor pairing: kun x black reader genre: fluff, smut, neighbors to lovers request: “Hello again Rain! I hope you're doing well and I'm happy to see you're open for requests again. Your writing in general is a treat to look forward to. An idea for a fic I'd like to suggest is wayv kun/black oc where they're neighbors that secretly pine for another and do feel free get very nsfw lmao. TY!” word count: 5.7k warnings: alcohol use, protected sex, dirty talk, dry humping, riding a/n: i used a prompt from this list of ideas to help me create this fic.

i’m sorry, this fic could’ve theoretically been finished long ago but took me 3893 years because kun intimidates me (and i don’t know why) and that makes it hard to write for him l m f a o chile anyway...

Your neighbor might actually kill you one day—but only in the figurative sense.

Kun is too beautiful and kind for your sanity; he’s like one of those men out of a romantic novel who simply should not exist. In other words, the ideal guy. One who helps all the little old ladies in the building take their groceries up to their apartments, one who feeds all the stray cats that hang around the complex, one who helps new tenants move their things in without even being asked.

Your roommate Charlotte would probably be totally smitten over him just like you if she did not already have her own happy relationship with her girlfriend. But since she does, she has decided to spend her time instead teasing you about your crush on him and trying to persuade you into getting tangled up in a matchmaking mess.

“I’m sure he already has a girlfriend, I don’t know, trying to shoot my shot seems ridiculous,” you say to her, worrying the edge of your blanket in your hands. You toss and turn on the couch, flipping onto your stomach and sighing before shuffling onto your back again. “People like that can never stay single for long. Right? They get snapped up quick.”

“You’d know if you simply asked,” Charlotte points out. “Staring holes into his head won’t help you find out more about him.”

“I guess you’re right,” you say, your fingers stumbling over the blanket as it momentarily slips from your hands. Still, the idea of asking him if he’s dating anyone, whether discreetly or more openly, makes you nervous. You’ve talked to Kun several times before, even hung out with him at those friendly get-togethers your apartment building always holds to get the residents mingling, but you’re still anxious around him. It makes you feel silly, like you’re back in high school; but you aren’t quite sure what to do with those emotions or how to form them into something coherent. “Easy to say all that when you already have the person you want, though.”

“Oh, girl. Love is not easy, but that’s why you have to fucking work for it. AKA, go for what—or who—the hell you want and stop pining over him like some lost Juliet on our couch. It’s better than watching you flop around like a dying fish.”

You stand up from the couch abruptly, leaving your blanket to the side and glaring at her. “You don’t get it, ugh.”

“I get it! But you refuse to let me help—”

“Yes, because if I did, you’d say something completely ridiculous and tell him I’m madly in love with him or something.” You head to the bathroom to check yourself in the mirror.

Charlotte throws her hands up in surrender. “Hey, maybe. But that wouldn’t be a lie.”

“Really? I don’t think—”

“I think so. The way you talk about this guy, it’s definitely sounding a little like love to me.”

Once you’re satisfied, you come back in the main room and grab your keys, wanting to end this conversation before Charlotte sets a world record for how many times she can make you feel embarrassed. “Whatever you say. I’m gonna go to the corner store, so...speak now if you need something or forever hold your peace.”

“You can’t run from it,” Charlotte sing-songs, going back to reading her magazine. “And no, I don’t need anything.”

Once you get out your front door, it’s just your luck when you see Kun’s door is also open. You are not dressed for running into him, of all people; your “corner store” clothes being just a T-shirt, leggings, and slides. You freeze in place and momentarily think about unlocking your door and bolting back inside, which you realize is utterly ridiculous. By then, it’s too late; he’s already coming out his door and closing it behind him.

He perks up when he sees you outside, smiling at you with those deep dimples that make your insides melt. “Hey Y/N, good to see you.”

“Kun! Uh—great to see you too.”

“Are you going out somewhere?” he asks. Inwardly, he feels a bit silly for asking because you clearly are, keys in hand and everything.

“Yeah, just to the store to get a few things.” You wave your hand, and you almost have the urge to lean on your doorframe to appear more calm and collected than you are. Which could potentially end up looking sillier than you intended. “How about you?”

“Going to see a friend,” he answers, and he brushes his hand through his hair in a way that’s completely casual but somehow modelesque at the same time. This is unbelievable, you think to yourself. “We haven’t met up in a while, so…”

“Oh yeah, it’s always nice to go out with old friends,” you say, smiling at the thought of it. Kun nods his agreement, and then has an abrupt, wild idea to ask if you’d like to go out somewhere sometime. Too busy warring with himself over whether he should take the dive, he doesn’t notice you heading towards the stairs already. “I hope you two have a good time!”

“Oh—thanks. Hope you enjoy your trip.” He chuckles, following you down the steps to get to his car. Well, that moment has passed. Sure, he could probably still ask you now if he was bold enough about it, but it feels too awkward to randomly ask someone out in the middle of a stairwell.

You wave bye to him once you both get in the parking lot. He watches you walk to your car with a wistful smile on his face. He wants to say more to you, but the timing isn’t right and it’s best not to hold you up right now. Plus, Hendery’s probably already waiting for him.

It would’ve provided you with a lot of relief if you knew Kun was facing a similar dilemma to you. He’d never had much problem talking to women he liked in the past, but something about you made him feel clumsy and hesitant. But just like with your inability to move forward, there’s no way for you to know his feelings without him saying anything about it—which he has been hesitating over for the longest.

Maybe he was also still cowering from the embarrassment of the time he’d tried to show you a magic trick that didn’t quite work out, but it was a convenient excuse. At least for him, anyway.

One day he’d get the courage to tell you how he felt, but he didn’t think today was that day.

–

Some strong shots and a few hours at the club was exactly what you needed to unravel your nerves after a long week. You and a few others from your work had decided to go out that Saturday night as a group effort to unwind from dealing with your overbearing boss. “Just a couple shots” eventually turned into more than that, though, but you weren’t complaining. As long as it gave you the opportunity to discard all your issues for a while, you didn’t mind losing yourself a little.

However, your night of fun quickly dissolves into frustration when you realize you’ve lost your keys and have no way to get back into your apartment. You’re not even sure where they might’ve disappeared—in the club, or in the rideshare back to your apartment?

Charlotte is out of the city for the week visiting her long-distance girlfriend, so there’s no way you’re getting back in your apartment tonight. The main office won’t be open at this hour, either; it’s the weekend, and nobody will be there regardless until Monday. And you’re definitely not drunk enough or desperate enough to try to bust the door down.

Though it pains you to do so, you knock on Kun’s door, your head throbbing and dizzy. You feel bad about this. He won’t even be awake at this hour and might not answer, but you don’t know what other options you have. You aren’t familiar enough with your other neighbors to ask this of them. Especially not the old lady living on the other side of you who has a perpetually judgmental aura towards everyone in the apartment building. The only person she seems marginally approving of is none other than the man himself—Qian Kun.

It takes a good minute or two, but you hear the latch unlock, and Kun is suddenly standing in front of you, a look of concern on his sleepy face. He is adorable like this, in his pajamas and his hair mussed and his eyes foggy with sleep. He’s so cute it makes you want to cry—and so you do.

But your tears are mostly because you’re very tipsy and tired and currently locked out of your very comfortable apartment.

This awakens Kun immediately. “Y/N? What’s wrong?” He gently pulls you into his apartment, his tone quiet but panicked as you put your face in your hands and cry. You just shake your head for a few moments, crying too much to say anything to him. When you don’t reply, he doesn't try to press you for answers; he just puts his arms around you, a bit carefully as if you’re made of some easily breakable material, and lets you wet his T-shirt with your tears.

Finally, when you’ve collected yourself some, you abruptly feel foolish for crying over something like this. He probably thinks someone’s died, and you’ve gotten him all worked up for practically nothing. “I-I’m locked out,” you sigh heavily, and he has enough politeness not to outwardly react to your alcohol breath with your close proximity. “And my roommate is gone…forever.”

His eyebrows lift. “Forever?”

“The whole week, Kun...but it feels like...f-forever.”

“Ah...I see. Is that why you were crying?”

You put your head back in your hands. “Just kill me.”

“Don’t feel bad about it,” Kun says, and there is a tiny lift to his mouth like he wants to smile at your dramatics. “It’s fine. You can stay here tonight.”

“Kun, thank you.” You’re still loosely embracing each other, and you squeeze your arms more tightly around him. Maybe it’s just a reason to rest your head on his chest again and hear his heart beating strong against your cheek, but you wouldn’t admit that. Wait, why is his heart beating so fast? “Thank youuu, I love you so much, this means the world to me.”

Kun’s mind catches on the words I love you so much, and he knows you’re just drunk and need to sleep it off and aren’t really thinking about what you’re saying, but he cannot help lingering there for a moment. He’s glad the front room is still dim from the single lamp he turned on, otherwise you might notice the flush growing on his cheeks. “I...it’s no problem. We should get you comfortable, then.”

As it turns out, get you comfortable means he lets you sleep in his bed while he takes the couch. In another context you’d protest, not wanting to kick him out of his own space, but you are simply too smashed to think about it. You’re seconds away from falling asleep where you stand now that the adrenaline of discovering you’re locked out has worn off. Kun has the idea to make you drink some ice cold water, though, which wakes you up enough to take a proper shower.

By the time you get out of the shower and are wearing his clothes—his clothes—you are feeling a little more sober. You also feel like you’re going to have another small meltdown over all this. “This” being: wearing Kun’s clothes and standing in his bedroom, which is decorated with all his interests and treasured belongings. There’s a small studio setup in one corner, which interests you, but you don’t investigate it any further.

Now you have another little problem, though; what are you gonna do about the pillows? You don’t have anything to cover your hair with, with all your scarves and bonnets in your own apartment. One night of sleeping on a cotton pillow wouldn’t kill you, but that doesn’t make it any less distasteful to think about.

Kun comes into the bedroom to check on you and sees you puzzling around, sitting on the bed and looking awkward. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh. It’s nothing really,” you rush out, unsure if you should tell him about a problem he likely won’t even understand. It must be at least 4:00 a.m. by now, meaning you both desperately need to get some sleep.

“You can tell me, I won’t bite.”

I wouldn’t mind if you did pops into your head, but you immediately try to ignore that thought and are silently grateful that you do not blush visibly.

“Uh, my hair.”

“Your hair?”

“Okay, I need to cover it at night so it won’t get all broken off or anything—sleeping on cotton does wonders for destroying moisture—but I don’t have anything here to use. I mean—it’s...not a huge deal though, I can deal with it for a night?” You’re rambling now. Kun just nods, taking in all this information like he’s listening to something very important and very interesting.

“So then, what would you do to stop that?”

“Wear a scarf, or a bonnet, or using a silk pillowcase works, too. But you probably don’t have any of that stuff, you don’t have to bother with it—”

“Well, let me see.” Kun disappears into his closet and you pause, wondering for a moment if he actually does have a bonnet or something in there. Which would probably be a little hilarious to you.

He comes back out with not a bonnet of a scarf or even a pillowcase, but one of his own shirts. It’s just the right material though, being a pretty purple silk.

“Oh—Kun.” At this point, there are several emotions all trying to come to the forefront, though you have no clue which one to settle on. “Your shirt? You really don’t have to. I could…”

“It’s just a shirt, Y/N. There are a lot more where that comes from...I don’t mind.” He chuckles.

You sigh bashfully but take the shirt from him. “Thank you, it’s really thoughtful of you.” You cover the pillow with his shirt, and it works perfectly.

“Anyway, if you need anything else, just tell me,” he says, lingering by the door.

“I will...thank you,” you say, your voice quiet as you give him a nervous smile. Only when he shuts the door and his footsteps fade away do you allow yourself to bunch the comforter in your fists and scream into it. Everything in here smells just like him, which is probably more than enough to fuel all of your Qian Kun-related daydreams for the next 8 months.

It doesn’t take long for you to drift off when you finally do lie down, and your mind is blissfully empty of anything throughout the night.

The next day takes a bit of settling into. You’re momentarily alarmed when you wake up faced with a strange room until you remember last night’s events and recall where you are. There is also the smell of food, good food, which is also sadly unfamiliar to you. Charlotte can’t cook to save either of your lives, so you know you’d never be waking up to the smell of a professional chef-approved breakfast if you were still in your apartment with her.

Walking out of Kun’s room, you see that he’s in the kitchen, halfway finished with cooking breakfast for the both of you. It’s more like brunch at this hour, but what does that matter.

You linger at the doorway for a moment, allowing yourself to imagine that this is what things would be like if you were dating. Getting this view everyday? Life cannot be this unfair.

Maybe not too much, though, since you are standing in his kitchen.

“Oh, good morning,” he greets you, breaking your reverie. “Did you sleep well?”

“Good morning. I slept great. Thanks again for, you know, the shirt, haha…”

He grins, and his dimples come out. “Sure thing. Go ahead and sit! Breakfast will be ready soon.”

It’s the best breakfast you’ve eaten since living with Charlotte; maybe some of the best food you’ve ever had. “I had no idea you could cook this well,” you say. “I mean. I guess I wouldn’t since I haven’t—you know, uh—eaten here before, but—it’s great.” It’s just your luck that your thoughts come out in this fumbling mini-rant, but Kun only laughs good-naturedly.

“Thank you, I’m truly glad you like it.”

You both continue eating breakfast while making light conversation. This just might be the longest conversation you’ve had with each other, and that knowledge seems surreal. You’re almost a little glad you lost your key. Almost.

“So...today is Sunday. And the leasing office still won’t be open until Monday.” Kun says this over the remnants of breakfast. He speaks in a measured tone, like he’s trying to ensure he says the right thing. Whatever that could possibly be. “And you told me your roommate won’t be back until Monday.”

To your credit, you hadn’t exactly accounted for this when you first came over to his place in your distressed state. That means another night spent in his apartment though, which becomes very obvious to you now. “Ah. Sorry, am I imposing?”

“What—no, I-I just wanted to make sure you knew you can stay here tonight, or—however long you need.”

Relief floods through you, and you briefly wonder why you even worried about it; as far as you know, he’s not the kind of person to just kick someone out. “Ohh, of course—that’s good to know. Thank you for all this!”

“You’re welcome.” You miss the smile he gives to your response as you’re busy drinking your juice, but it’s one filled with a certain affection.

It feels a bit awkward to just sit around in his apartment all day, with nothing to do and all your belongings still locked out of your reach in your own place, so Kun shows you the studio in the corner of his room. He’d talked about being into music before, but you’d never heard anything of his until now.

When he plays the keyboard for you, it’s to the tune of a beautiful self-composed song. You almost pinch yourself to remind yourself this isn’t a hallucination or a fever dream. A man this appealing really exists, and you’ve stayed the night in his apartment and eaten his breakfast. You give a small round of applause when he finishes.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if you became a famous singer or something? I’d come to all your concerts,” you say lightly, kicking your legs on the edge of his bed.

“All? Really, all?” He laughs.

“Yes, all. A voice and talent like that deserves all the attention.” You lean back on his bed, stretching your legs out. “But all your venues would probably be sold out. Hopefully you’d remember me from your lil’ ole apartment building. I’m sure you’d be living in a penthouse by then.”

Kun smiles bashfully at your compliments, waving his hands as if it’s too much. “Thank you. But I don’t think I could ever forget you.” His voice grows a bit softer. His expression is more genuine than you expect for a conversation that was so playful only seconds ago, and you find it hard to hold eye contact all of a sudden.

It is your turn to be bashful, and you shrug in an effort to seem natural. “Well, I’m flattered.” Despite your unaffected demeanor, you don’t think those words will leave your mind for a good while, even if you wonder about the meaning of them.

Later that evening, Kun makes dinner and you watch TV together, flipping to whatever channels have dramas or movies playing.

You two eventually fall into another conversation when you can’t find anything good to watch—one that does not make you overly nervous for once. During a lull in the talking, that big question pops up into your mind, and you wince internally at how Charlotte would’ve already told you to make a move. You aren't sure how to do that without making him uncomfortable or seeming too sudden, but you decide to make an attempt.

You edge into it with, “So, um, your place looks pretty nice for one guy. It’s just you here, right?”

“Ah yeah, just me. Thanks, I do try my best.”

“Haha, I’m used to my guy friends all having super messy apartments until they get a girlfriend and she teaches them how to clean a stove for the first time…”

“Oh really? That’s a bit sad for them, isn’t it?” He chuckles. “I’m not dating anyone right now, so it’s all me.”

Just the information you were looking for. You try not to show your elation. “Why not?” you blurt out. Then you cringe because this might sound too invasive or even judgmental, but Kun only grins. “It’s just, it’s a little surprising. You’re such a generous person. You seem to care about everyone, even those poor stray kitties that stay outside the apartments all the time.”

He smiles timidly in response to receiving more of your compliments. “I guess it seems curious when you put it like that.” Just like when you’d drunkenly said I love you so much, there’s suddenly heat on the back of his neck that he hopes won’t turn into another blush that’ll expose him. “I don’t really know, I haven’t thought much about it; life’s weird like that.” He isn’t really sure how to answer that question in a way that won’t be too big of a hint that he’s interested in you, though he’s also not entirely sure why he’s still trying to hide it. Wouldn’t now be the perfect opportunity? When will you two have this much time together again? Still, you staying in his apartment for two days doesn’t mean you like him, and maybe he’s jumping the gun.

“That’s true. Guess that’s the same reason why I’ve been alone for a while now.” You shake your head.

“You?” Kun is equally surprised to know this about you.

You laugh incredulously. “Does that shock you or something?”

“I...well.” He rubs the back of his neck as he searches for the words. “I just thought...you’re very pretty, and you’re always really kind when we speak, so...”

“Oh?” Your face heats up at that.

“Yeah, I…think anyone would be lucky to be with you.”

“Oh.” Your body’s first instinct is to freeze with nervousness, but you know Charlotte would be kicking your ass in gear right now if she were somehow here. So, you decide to stop stressing about it and just do it. “Well...wouldn’t it be nice if we both had a way to fix our problems at the same time?”

Kun pauses for a moment before replying. “What do you suggest?” He knows what you are proposing—you can see in his eyes and his slight grin and his posture that he knows—but maybe he wants to hear you say it out loud.

“Hm, well…I don’t know, what do you think?” You lean a bit closer to him, raising your eyebrows and trying your best to look innocent and unassuming. His smile turns into something different with your increased proximity. Something a little more sly.

Mirroring your actions, he inches nearer to you until there’s little space left between. “Well, I think…” Kun tentatively closes the remaining gap between the two of you, the rest of his sentence left to linger as his soft lips envelop yours.

Maybe it’s corny to say it, but it definitely feels like one of those fairytale kisses with the fireworks going off and streamers popping; even though you’re sitting on his couch wearing his pajamas, some movie in the background you’ve long forgotten the plot of, empty dinner plates sitting on the coffee table in front of you.

You aren’t sure how you end up in his lap—who made the first move? Was it his hand on your back or your hands on his shoulders? You straddle him on the couch, your arms slipping around his shoulders and his hands on your back but assuredly traveling farther down your body.

Kun’s hands come to rest on your thighs, pulling the fabric of his shorts up a few inches higher. “I never thought I’d see you wearing my clothes,” he says lowly, grinning against your mouth.

“I also never thought I’d be sitting in your lap like this, but maybe sometimes dreams do come true,” you say jokingly, your lips rubbing against his skin as you slowly kiss his jaw.

You can’t see his expression, but his eyebrows shoot up at that. “Dreams, huh? You think about me often?” His voice pitches lower when he asks this, aroused by the thought of you imagining anything quite so lewd about him. You’ve definitely incriminated yourself now and won’t be able to wiggle out of it without an answer.

“...Maybe.”

“What do you think about me?” Kun grips your hips, which quickly turns into him grabbing your ass—tentatively at first to test the waters, and then firmly enough to grind you against his hardening cock. Sensing him solid and warm underneath you sends a shockwave down your spine, and the sensation heightens when his voice caresses your ear, all low and tense with arousal. “It’s just the two of us here. No one else has to know.”

“I think about your...lips. How you might kiss me. Or what you might say to me. And...your hands.” You pause there, a quiet breath whispering past your lips. “You have really big hands, you know.”

“My hands…” Kun places one on your chest, spreading his fingers across and touching your collarbone. The heel of his palm glides on the top of your breast, and just that touch is enough to get you more worked up. “Hmm. Actually, I’ll admit I’m pretty good with my hands.” He smirks, and he’s possibly the finest thing you’ve ever seen. “What else, Y/N?”

“I thought about how you’d touch me.” His hand slides between your breasts now, down your sternum, and to your stomach. “Maybe I’d invite you into my apartment when Charlotte wasn’t there. We’d watch some stupid movie and pretend to be into it, but we’re really just thinking about each other. You’d eventually end up slipping your hand up my skirt...and making me cum all over your fingers.”

You aren’t sure how you’re saying all this to Kun right now, the dude you have a major crush on, without bursting into flames.

His shaft rubbing against your clit even through your layers of clothes makes you sigh dreamily, pressing your forehead to his and gripping at his shoulders and biceps. His bangs are soft against your forehead, and your breath stutters when he moves to kiss the side of your neck. He has to know how hard your heart is beating right now.

“And then what?” His voice is barely a whisper, then.

“And then you’d fuck me, of course.” There’s a slight laugh in your voice at the ticklish feeling of his lips kissing your skin.

“And then I’d fuck you...hm,” he echoes. “Sure, I can do that.”

The promise of it entices you, and more heat pools between your legs, amplified by the fabric rubbing against your sensitive parts. His hand that’s still on your stomach travels under your shirt then, and your hips falter in your rhythm against him when his fingers brush across your nipple. He brings his lips to your other breast, lapping his tongue against your nipple over the fabric.

You soon come like this, his shaft grinding against your clit and his clothes rubbing against your skin, his hands on your ass and his lips traveling across your breasts. The orgasm is sudden and surprises you, but it’s good, and you convulse as the waves of pleasure course through you. You weaken and slump against him, with him still teasing your breasts with his mouth and hands. Pushing your face into his hair, you moan into the black strands until the quivering stops.

You’re breathless when you speak again. “You haven’t come yet.”

“I’d rather do that when I’m inside you,” he replies. You giggle quietly.

“...What are you waiting for, then?”

“Hold on.” Kun carefully maneuvers you off his lap, and you already want to complain at the lack of his touch. “I have to get a condom.”

“Hurry, or you’ll miss all the fun,” you say as you pull your shirt off with your back to him. You look back over your shoulder at him and grin mischievously.

“You’re such a tease…”

Kun goes into his room to fetch a condom, and when he returns he’s already pulling his shirt off, leaving it on the floor somewhere. You’re fully naked now, your legs pulled up to your chest and your chin resting on your knees as you sit on the couch. Kun’s eyes drop between your legs, your inner thighs still glistening from your previous orgasm, and he swipes his tongue across his lips at the sight of you, wet and ready for him.

Likewise, your eyes drop to the dark trail of hair leading into his pants and his bulge just below it, the way his sweatpants cling to his length, and your pussy throbs with the desire to be filled.

“Please, hurry.”

Kun doesn’t waste any time in getting the rest of his clothes off, shoving his pants and underwear done in one swift move and rolling the condom over his shaft. He climbs onto the couch, grabbing your legs and guiding them around his waist, and you giggle at his eager but gentle touch as you recline on the couch pillows behind you.

He grabs his dick and lines it up with you, then pushes it in slowly at first. The stretch makes your toes curl, but it is a good kind of stretch, the kind that fills you to the brim. Like the missing element you needed.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice husky from the pleasure.

“Fuck, please,” is your answer as you shift your hips and try to get him all the way inside quicker. Noticing your urgency, he slides the rest of the way in until your hips are flush against each other and starts thrusting into you. His length dragging across your walls feels much better than you could’ve imagined on any given night, and you clasp your legs tighter around him to get ever closer.

After a point, he pushes your legs up with his hands behind your knees so he can get a deeper angle, and you both moan at the difference in sensation and how much tighter you get around him.

There is no ignoring the messy wet noises of your bodies colliding due to the slickness of your previous orgasm and the new wetness he’s continually fucking out of you. Each thrust reaches deep inside you, deep enough to make you nearly sob, your hands fumbling over your breasts and your clit all the while.

“Kun, god yes please,” you whimper, rocking your hips into the rhythm of his own. You fucking him back makes him groan deeply, his bangs hanging off his forehead as he dips his head to watch himself slide in and out of you. You could not control the urge or the motion of your body even if you wanted to; you want all of him, as close as he can get.

“I don’t want this to end,” he moans, and he pulls out without a warning. You gasp at the sudden emptiness, and your discontent comes out in a full whine. You’d be more embarrassed about it if you weren’t currently consumed with desire, but you presently do not care.

Kun sits back on the couch and pulls you on top of him again. “Ride me,” he says. So you grasp the base of his cock, him grunting as you do, and you press the tip against your entrance before pushing it in. He watches himself slip inside of you while fully enraptured, one hand tight on your hip.

Once you are full with him again, you experimentally grind against him to see how it’ll feel in this new position, and your arms tremble as his pelvis stimulates your clit.

“Go ahead,” he whispers, grasping the nape of your neck and kissing you hard once more, “fuck yourself on me.”

So you keep grinding your clit on him like that, your limbs shaking from the stimulation and your walls fluttering around his cock. You can barely catch a complete breath from him kissing you hard enough to make your lips swell, and your head is so fogged with lust that all you can concentrate on is getting yourself off just like he told you to do.

“Kun…” You roll your head onto his shoulder, pressing your forehead into his skin, your body tiring as you get closer to reaching that high. You’re so close to coming, but you’re not sure if you have enough strength left to get there on your own. Kun notices the state you’re in and grasps your hips to pull them into his, effortlessly sliding himself into you while making sure your clit gets stimulated at the same time.

The new friction of his dick rubbing against your g-spot in this position is enough to have you finally coming and crying out against his neck.

You continue babbling nonsense against his neck as he keeps fucking you, searching for his own end. His hands are hot on your body as he moves you up and down his length.

His climax comes soon after yours, his dick pulsing and his pace slowing. Your back arches at the sensation of him throbbing inside you and releasing his cum into the condom. The way he groans in your ear has your stomach clenching.

For a few minutes after, you both sit quietly and do nothing but cling to one another as you come down from the pleasure.

“So, does this mean we’re together now…?” Kun asks hopefully, running his hands over your back as you lie against him.

You smile against his skin. “Obviously. But if you still want to convince me, we can go a couple more rounds…”

#kun smut #kun fic #kun scenarios #kun imagines #nct fic #nct smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #wayv fic #wayv scenarios #wayv smut #wayv imagines #ambw scenarios #kpop ambw #ambw fic #ambw smut #ambw imagines #qian kun

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bubblyhoney · 3 years

Note

can i request a fic where sapnap takes the reader to his hometown? like the classic going to places he went to when he was younger. maybe playgrounds and ice cream shops idk

places i used to go

warnings: language of course, an allusion to virginap, my uneducated guess of what sapnap was like in highschool, tiny detail of long haired!sapnap, singular canon detail of underage drinking, jokish about marriage

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

words: 2191

A/N: you are a god, anon. i love comfy and nostalgic fics like these and it was so fun to write. if you hate it dont tell me but if you like it lemme know akskdjd

inbox/requests: open

The wind whips fast on your bare fingers, cool and quick and raising goosebumps in its wake. You blink in the haze of the early sunset, head lolled to the side of the headrest. It feels good.

“That’s where I went to high school.” Sapnap interrupts your thoughts and points a finger at a collection of tall brick buildings down a side street. The silver of the lettering is dull, but you can still feel the nostalgia.

“And you’re about to see the park that me and my friends used to hang out at after work and—actually, nevermind.” His arm drops to the middle console and he looks straight ahead with slightly pinker cheeks.

“Do what?” You ask, voice all sweet, and a grin grows on your face. You turn towards him and wiggle your eyebrows.

“Nothing. Homework.” He avoids your eye contact and hikes his hand up higher on the steering wheel. “Anyways— Do you want to get some food before we head out? I know a great place.”

You two were just coming to a close on your little trip to visit his family; it was his step-mom’s birthday and you decided to make a week of it. It was your first long-term trip with Sapnap, and also your first time meeting his dad’s side of the family. You were proud to say she loved you. His little sister took a little more effort to talk to you of her own volition, but soon enough she was on your side.

You have a couple hours to kill before making your flight back home, so Sapnap has taken it upon himself to give you a quick tour of his hometown.

“Yeah,” you decide, bottom lip popped out. “Can we get ice cream after?”

“Uh, duh.” The Neighbourhood’s Stargazing starts through the speakers and he reaches to turn it down. “I’m so ready to get home and sleep.” He stretches his neck in his seat, letting out an uncharacteristically inappropriate grunt when his bones pop. You make a disgusted face, nose wrinkling, but stretch your own back, slumping down in the seat. The day had been full of packing up and this horrible hike his dad liked to do early in the mornings, so you two were pretty beat.

“Okay, we’re here,” he announces three sleepy minutes later in his best attempt at a whisper. Lifting your head off of the corner of your seat, you blink in the setting sunlight as a yawn splits your face. “You’re so cute.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, and struggle to get your seatbelt off in that post-nap haze. You’d barely been asleep for thirty seconds, damn it. The air is a swampy heat when you step out of the car onto rocky gravel and nearly twist your ankle climbing over the curb. Sapnap catches you by the lower back, trying to hide his laugh but failing miserably. You slide him a dirty look, smacking his shoulder as hard as you can manage while limping towards the front entrance.

The door jingles when you two breach the doorway, alerting a bored-looking hostess that the circus has arrived. She looks at Sapnap a second longer than she should, eyebrows screwed together in silent confusion. But she leads the two of you to a booth near a large window, handing you sticky menus and promptly fucking right off to the host station. She nearly runs.

“Do you know her?” You ask, inconspicuously hiding your face in the search for their 24/7 breakfast menu. You feel his eyes on you.

“Don’t think so.” He leans on one elbow and slides his phone out of his jeans’ pocket. In the 25 seconds it takes for you to find their french toast and sides menu, he has browsed and closed his phone with an animatedly shocked look on his face.

“What?” You give him a weird look and put down the menu.

“I totally went to homecoming with that girl.” He eyes the hostess. You glance over at her again, meeting her gaze, and offer a polite smile. She turns away quickly, eyes wide.

“She’s cute,” you say, voice high and fake, and he drums his fingers on the tabletop as an amused look makes its way onto his face.

“Are you—?”

“What?” You reply right back.

“Nothing.”

Thank God the server comes up to your table then and starts asking for drink orders, or else you’d have to admit (sheepishly) you were a tiny eensy-weensy bit annoyed. Only a tad. But after requesting a Dr. Pepper and a water the conversation surrounding the nervous-looking hostess dies.

“I’m so hungry I think I feel my stomach shrinking.” You flop your head onto your arm on the table top and make a whiny noise into the stack of napkins your server left at the table. Sapnap rubs his thumb into the side of your forearm, touch warm and nearly dissolving the pangs of hunger and jealousy.

“You weren’t hungry an hour ago.” He lifts your hand to his face and plants a kiss on the back of it. Oh, pulling out the big guns, huh? “I would have made you something.”

You tilt onto your chin, pouting, and stare up at his cute face. His cute, scruffy, perfectly-kissable face.

“I think I got hungry staring at you for half an hour.” A mischievous grin grows on your previously-petulant face and he just shakes his head.

“I do have that effect,” he admits with cockiness in his tone, lifting his eyebrows and leaning back into the booth with his lips pursed.

The server returns with two glasses and takes your food orders onto their little yellow notepad. You chug the water down when they leave for the kitchen, getting your lap and chin thoroughly wet in the process. Sapnap just snorts at you and shoves the napkins your way.

“So,” you start, patting dry your jeans. “tell me what you were like in high school.” You cross your arms and settle into the booth, smirk on your lips.

“What I was like?” He parrots, sipping at his soda, looking thoughtful. “Firstly, a virgin.” You make a noise. Duh. Dude had a buzz cut his junior year. (You’ve seen the pictures. His step-mom particularly likes them.) “Secondly, I was actually— well, I wasn’t popular, but I had a lot of friends. We were all semi-athletic lonely band kids but we had fun. Had one girlfriend senior year but she went to Cal Tech in the fall and I didn’t. I, um, worked at a Dairy Queen in the summers and gained so much weight I had to lose all over again for Unified Track.”

“Relatable,” you comment, drinking noisily at your water. He fiddles with the paper straw wrapper and crunches it up into a ball. It goes soaring into your drink with a quiet “Kobe” and you just give him a look. He smiles toothily right back at you. “Stop being cute, I’m trying to listen to your story.”

“Oh, my bad,” he mocks. “Anyways. That’s what I was like in highschool.” You fish the paper ball out of your water and flick it wetly at his arm. It sticks and you choke on a laugh, cheeks puffed.

Two plates of warm food are set down loudly onto the table and you thank the server with a surprised smile, Sapnap mirroring you.

Two minutes of wordless chewing passes, minds occupied just by “food, me eat” instead of anything related to your previous conversation. You realize that Sapnap is one of the loudest chewers ever, and he realizes that you fail to notice the streak of maple syrup in your hair.

“C’mere,” he mumbles through a mouthful of omelet and hash browns and beckons you with his hand. You lean closer, chewing slowly, as he pats a napkin at the strands of hair trapped in syrup.

“Thanks, baby.” You take the napkin from him and pause your assault of the warm french toast before you to clean the sticky sugar out of your hair. He just watches you, half of a smile on his lips.

You two finish your food in record time. It’s borderline vacuum-like. There’s a short grace period where you just sit like two lazy cats, slumped down in the booth and holding your full stomachs. But the check comes soon after, and you both pay your way and are out of the restaurant without any mad dashes for the bathroom. A miracle, really, because of the American-like amount of butter you both consume.

“I’m a much more functional person now,” you mutter into the cotton of his shoulder, swinging your hand in his. He just hums in agreement.

“I guess we’re not getting ice cream, then,” he teases, and you just groan in response.

“I don’t feel like having diarrhea on a plane, unfortunately.” You sigh heavily when you have to split and get into your respective sides of the rental car.

The entire trip (somewhat roundabout because of the amount of side quests to show you things from his childhood) to the airport Sapnap is a chatterbox. He’s like this when he has sugar: either bouncing off the walls with energy or talking your ear off.

“That’s where my dad proposed to my step-mom. I was kinda young but I remember being surprised at how big the ring was— dude broke the bank for her.” It’s a little gazebo you catch a glimpse of through the trees in a park. It probably was an incredibly picturesque moment, and you can sense how much she must have loved it. With just meeting them this weekend, you can already see how much love those two have for each other.

You hope people can see how much you love Sapnap.

“Oh my God, it’s still there.” He points out the side of your window to what looks like a Dairy Queen that has been through World War 3. “My buddy Eric and I once spilled a gallon of that liquid ice-cream-shit all over the men’s bathroom.”

You shoot him a horrified look. “Why was it in the bathroom?”

He just smirks.

“—And that’s my Uncle Ron’s house. Had my first beer there.”

“And last, hopefully,” you add, pulling a disgusted face. The two story bungalow is cute, and one of your favorite colors: olive green. “That shit is nasty.”

He just shrugs and continues down the side street.

“Is this the park you were talking about?”

He pulls into the gravelly parking lot of a small clearing of tall trees, a picnic table and campfire sat squat in the middle. But he doesn’t respond, just turning the car off and climbing out. He reaches the passenger door without speaking, and opens it for you. You climb carefully out, confused.

“Come on.” He takes your hand and starts for a small path to the left of the picnic table. The mid-sunset shade envelopes the both of you.

“I hope this isn’t where you kill me.”

“No,” he snorts. “I just wanted to show you something.”

It’s just a few moments of stumbling through the damp underbrush before you’re coming face to face with a small, mossy pond that sits right underneath an incredibly old willow tree. He stops right on the edge of the rocky path and turns toward you.

“This your make out spot?” You ask between a grin as he snakes an arm around your waist and tugs you flush to him. Your innocent smile fades when you feel the press of his lips to the side of your neck, light and ticklish. Oh.

“No,” he murmurs, and just breathes you in. “I came here once—the night before I graduated highschool. And I told myself when I really really loved someone I’d take them here with me.” He sways with you in his grasp, a gentle and song-less dance.

You grip his shoulder tighter in your hand and lean into him.

“That’s— awfully romantic, huh?” Your voice is quiet. Almost nervous. He just makes a noise of agreement.

“So here we are.” His voice is the opposite of yours, all strong and confident.

You two just move together for a moment. The sun breaks through the tree canopy, shining bright orange down onto the glassy surface of the pond. Crickets and frogs chirp back and forth as the willow vines swing in a cool evening breeze. You watch nature come alive around you, suddenly grateful for the man in your arms.

“Don’t propose,” you whisper, breaking the gentle tension. A laugh breaks the silence and he’s pulling away to look at you. Maybe in disbelief. A strand of hair falls into his eyes and you brush it away, fingers stilling on his temple and sliding down onto his cheek. Stubble scrapes against the skin of your palm and he stares at you through those meadow eyes.

You realize in that moment that he is exactly himself. Of course he is. He’s Sapnap, and everything that encompasses that. Dark and light and fiery and cool. He always has been, and always will be.

You realize you wouldn’t mind if he proposed.

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. let me know what you think

#sapnap #mcyt #sapnap x gn!reader #sapnap x reader #sapnap x you #sapnap fluff #sapnap drabble #sapnap one shot #sapnap oneshot #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #honey answers #my lovely anon #sapnap fanfic #bubblyhoneyfics

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