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#if this has been done already i apologise
beenbaanbuun · 3 days
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the friend - opposites attract universe
a knock against the door has hongjoong startled, pulling him from the task at hand. his hands that were delicately massaging your scalp soon disappear, instead finding their way to your shoulders to push you gently from his path. you whine in mock complaint as he shuffles you to sit in front of his husband instead, but then seonghwa’s skilled fingers lace themselves in your soft barnet and all is well again. your eyes flutter closed and your head tips back.
“fickle little thing,” hongjoong muses as he straightens his slacks. his fingers brush over the pinstriped material, knocking away the creases from sitting in them, before he begins to move towards the archway that separates the living room from the foyer. “she really will crumble for anyone who shows her attention.”
he mutters that last bit under his breath, sharing an amused chuckle with himself as he wraps his hand around the brass doorknob. the wooden door is heavy and takes more than a little effort to yank open, but with a helpful hand from someone on the other side, it seems much easier. the ringed hand that came to his aid soon drops from the ornate door, swinging back down to the side of its owner. hongjoong can’t help but smile when he sees who it belongs to—his good friend song mingi is at his door.
hongjoong smiles at the man as he takes his sunglasses off and tucks them in the pocket of his black hoodie; it was a style choice hongjoong never really got behind, but mingi insisted that dressing so casually was ‘cool’ and not to mention ‘handy for his line of work.’ hongjoong is still convinced that you can take care of werewolves whilst dressing properly, but after several conversations on the matter, he’s come to the conclusion that mingi is simply just too stubborn to care. it’s fine, hongjoong tells himself; it’s all a part of what makes the giant on his doorstep so loveable.
“no yunho today?” hongjoong asks as he sidesteps just enough to let mingi through the door. “you two are normally inseparable.” there’s a strange expression on mingi’s face as hongjoong moved to push the door closed. it’s sheepish and shy and not at all like mingi, almost as if he’s ashamed of something. the door clicks shut just as the taller man shrugs which in itself is suspicious. the pair are normally attached at the hip; for mingi to not know exactly where the artist is at any given point in time is wrong. hongjoong sucks his teeth like he’s about to start scolding a child. “mingi, what have you done?”
“nothing!” the young man complains, tone defensive and annoyed. “why would you assume it’s me that’s done something and not yunho?”
its said like a child blaming their sibling for something, and hongjoong has to tense all of his face muscles to stop himself from cracking a smile. mingi makes it almost impossible for him not to have a soft spot for the man. so selfless yet so childish, hongjoong finds it easy to adore him. it’s probably why he’s been friends with the unsophisticated rascal for so many years.
“because i know if yunho had done something he would’ve already apologised and fixed the matter at hand,” it’s true, although it is entirely possible that yunho had apologised for something and mingi was just being his usual difficult self about it. hongjoong suspects that if that were the case, though, the man in his foyer would be a whole lot poutier. he thinks its safe to assume that this is a mingi-caused problem, as so many things are. “now tell me what’s wrong or i’ll invite yunho over to tell me himself.”
mingi’s jaw clenches, the muscles ticking like a clock as he mulls over his options. on one hand, he doesn’t want to be scolded by hongjoong, on the other, he really doesn’t want to have to face yunho right now. he knows one look at his friend will have him bent double, begging for forgiveness and he’s not quite ready to do that. he wants to hang onto his pride for just a little while longer.
so he sighs and closes his eyes, mentally preparing himself for the berating he’s about to get from hongjoong. his lungs fill with oxygen and he’s just about to confess his wrongdoings when he hears it; the sound of his saviour.
“hongjoong?” your brashly optimistic voice echos through the room as the soft pitter-patter of your bare feet grows nearer, and for the first time ever, mingi finds himself thanking the devil for your existence. usually he’s pretty impartial to you, loving to tease you more than he loves you. now, though? demons, he could kiss you if he wasn’t absolutely sure that hongjoong would have yeosang pinning him to the floor by his throat within seconds.
screw the fact that mingi once cared for yeosang like he was one of his own; the once feral pup is well and truly loyal to the kim family now…
mingi watches as the lilac of your sweater-covered arms wraps around hongjoong’s waist like a belt. the man relaxes into your hold, the accusatory look on his face melting away as you tuck your face into his neck. “seonghwa was wondering how long you’d be. he misses you.”
hongjoong chuckles and rolls his eyes.
“you mean you miss me?” he purrs, brining a hand up to pet at your messed up hair. mingi’s surprised seonghwa let you slip from his grasp without carefully laying each individual strand of hair back into position. no doubt the man is seething about your escape in the next room over. “seonghwa can live without me for a few moments, dove. you, on the other hand, are forever proving that you can’t.”
“yeah, sure, whatever,” you admit, “i miss you, i guess.”
hongjoong cranes his neck to kiss the side of your head, a toothy grin on his face as he holds his lips to you for a few more seconds than necessary. mingi finds himself rolling his eyes at the unnecessary display of affection, but he’s be lying if he said he didn’t feel something stirring inside of his chest. it’s cute, he admits to himself, but that doesn’t mean he needs to see it. he’s actually more than grateful when hongjoong pulls away from you with a gentle sigh.
“let’s go back to the lounge then, my pretty little dove,” hongjoong murmurs, and mingi feels the weight of the world fall from his back. he’s have to thank you later for tearing hongjoong’s attention from him. “you can wake yeosang from his nap; i’m sure the mutt would be more than happy to see that mingi is here to visit.”
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hella1975 · 1 year
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THIS IS SO EMBARASSING JUST KISS AND MAKE UP OR SOMETHING
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softshuji · 23 days
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Any men out there wanna pretend to be my bf to get my parents off my case about marriage? I am so so serious right now.
#my mom gave me a really really lonf lecture and upset me because her and my dad want me to start thinking about settling down ans getting#married. again. cos this comes up all the time. ans I reiterated that i do wanna marry and have kids. i know im 26 years old why do they'#think im also not aware of this??? like i suddenly forgot my own age and have my head in the clouds all the time. and i got so heated cos i#said they only believe in that in theory. in reality neither of them have accepted the idea od my leaving home or the idea of mw being with#a man. and they start freaking out if they even find out i talk to them so to say they want me to get married is so fucking naive#ans when i mentioned this and that they're more than ok w mt brothers talking tp women she said that if i wanted to settle down she could#talk to dad and they could “go about finding someone for me” and I've never been so pissed#i got so upset. why does everyone keep saying this to me. as if anyone my dad knows could ever be a half decent man#and the truth is they don't care if im in a happy marriage they've accepted that i won't be they only care that im gone and saving face in#front of family. that's all. it's always reputation it's always “what will people say?”#not once did love come up. not once did shw even imply that i should marryfor love#or that they hope i love someone and marry them. because they're more happy with the idea of me marrying for the sake of it than#they are at the idea of me finding genuine lovw#im not a fucking broodmare im not here to push out babies for the sake od reputation.#and then i said nor being married isn't the end of the world and she said “it's important that you settle down”#and i said im unwavering in my principles. she can call mw high maintenance like she loves doing but I'm not wavering on the#kind of man i want to be with and when i do marry him i want it to bw genuine. because be loves me and vice versa not because im ticking off#somethin from a damn checklist to appease them. and if being unwavering on my principles means staying unmarried then so be it.#my obligations are to god and myself and that's it#and y'know what??? i am in love with a boy already#and yet they don't care that i wanna be in love at all. no im just a puppet to follow a certain narrative in life live according to evergone#else has and that's it.#im done.#and then she tried to apologise by getting me a slice of cake and that somehow made me feel worse.#i dont want an apology. i want to be heard and actually listened to for once. i want someone to ask what i want. to actually give a shit#and love me cos it's me. not cos im some thing to further an agenda. or some toy or puppet that does your bidding.#is it so much??? to just want to be loved in return? to marry and live according to how i want to?? ans not want anyone to make these#decision's for me?#ruined my whole day.
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peterpevensies · 1 year
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waterdeeping · 2 years
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no i do not take criticism
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mariathorpearchive · 1 year
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panevanbuckley · 10 months
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pls i spent a stupid amount of time making this i need help 😭
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legowolas · 9 months
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I think we all deserve this:
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[ID: A gold award ribbon with text on it that reads "I survived the summer 2023 transfer window". End ID.]
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fingertipsmp3 · 1 month
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Full disclosure I do not care if someone copies me. I quite literally do not give a shit. Maybe it’s just because I’m 28 and getting mad about someone “copying” you is high school shit, maybe it’s genuinely not a big deal, I don’t know. I could run into someone who’s wearing the same thing, head to toe, that I am and I would neither notice nor care
#this post brought to you by my friend…. apologising for buying the same model of fitbit that i have?????????#like excuse me but what in the goddamn hell are you talking about#we are BOTH 28 years old. we have not just been beamed back to secondary school#even if we had; i doubt i would’ve given a shit THEN??#it’s a fucking fitbit. it’s not like you’ve tried to xerox my entire style. and even if you did i would not care#frankly if someone walked into this room wearing the exact same thing i’m wearing (grey cardigan bought at tesco ten years ago; dark blue#long sleeved t-shirt; fitbit; light grey sweatpants from the university i was at during 3rd year; brown socks; grey slippers)#my first thought would not be ‘omg they’ve copied me!’ it would be ‘they look comfortable’. or maybe ‘honestly they could do better’#maybe this is just because i got bullied for accidentally copying someone in secondary school (read: there were about 3 shops near us that#sold supplies; and they had very little in the way of choice so i COMPLETELY COINCIDENTALLY bought the same ballet shoes; pencil case#and tote bag that she already had)#but i get kind of violent when people either apologise for copying someone’s style/haircut/etc; or get mad that someone has done that#to them. like half the time it’s literally not intentional#i mean i can see it getting to be way too much but like#I DON’T CARE IF YOU OWN THE SAME FITBIT AS ME. in fact buy it#good christ i wish i’d bought this thing before i went through two terrible offbrand smartwatches that beeped at me while i was trying#to sleep and had ugly ass interfaces#personal
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nameforthemain · 7 months
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It's really hard to annoy me but my tutee is actually getting on my last nerve
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dymagamwedd · 1 year
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psa. ok. i think i am gonna start using icons. i do feel weird having a non-actor's face attached to anything remotely nsfw (and frankly i feel weird about using 80s molly ringwald attached to anything nsfw) so i'll leave those threads iconless. if anyone is uncomfortable with me using damiano as ferry's fc, i'll drop the icons for those threads as well.
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luveline · 1 month
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omg i love ur pregnant reader x hotch esp the flangsty ones…
maybe him and reader get into a little argument and the fighting plus the hormones plus the constant discomfort makes her leave to stay at a friend’s house for “space” (maybe someone in the bau hehe) then he shows up and grovels and they kiss and make up <333
ty for requesting! —hotch and pregnant!reader make up after a fight (neither being quite as mad as they’d claimed).
“Your boyfriend’s outside.” 
You raise your tired head from the couch cushion. “Who?” 
Morgan grins at you. “Hotch, mama. He’s at the door.” 
Hotch is your husband, not your boyfriend. You’ve got the ring to prove it. 
“You didn’t let him in?” 
“He said you might not want to see him.” 
You want to see Hotch more than you’ve ever wanted to see another person. It is absolute torture to be so heavily pregnant with someone’s baby and to worry they don’t want you anymore. If he’s here at such a late hour, he must’ve forgiven you for being grumpy. Right? 
You sit up and let Morgan help you into a standing position. He pulls your blanket tight around your shoulders. “Should I let him in?” he asks.
“Yeah.” You drop your voice to a whisper, “But don’t let him know I’m eager.” 
He gives you a knowing smirk. “Course not. Stay here, okay? I’ll bring him in.” 
Morgan starts back down the hall. You stand in his living room wondering what Hotch is gonna say, if he’s still mad, if you’re still mad, and if he’s strong enough to carry you back to the car. You don’t wanna sleep in Morgan’s bed, as much as you love him. You want your bed, your Hotch, his baby boy snoring in the room across the hall. You love your life (most of the time, when you aren’t carrying the weight of a bowling ball on your abdomen and the hormones aren’t making you sick). 
“Hello,” Hotch says, still in the suit he’d been wearing when he got home that evening, strangely and obviously nervous where he stops in the doorway. 
“Hi. Where’s Jack?” 
“He went with Jess. I needed to talk to you.” 
“Could’ve brought Jack.” 
“I didn’t want to upset him if you stayed here.” 
You nod. Hotch —who’d cringe if he knew you still called him that in your head, though it’s the name he went by when you fell in love, so what are you supposed to do?— gestures for you to sit, not demanding, only concerned. “It’s late,” he says. 
You can’t be bothered to lower yourself awkwardly into the cushion nest you’d made. “Morgan offered me his bed. He has a California king.” 
“But you stayed on the couch.” 
You glare at him half-heartedly. “Maybe I was watching TV.” You’d been waiting for him to call, but it’s not his business.
He doesn’t seem perturbed by your reaction. He's about to apologise anyways. “I’m sorry for getting mad. I know how stressed you are, and I should’ve done better.” 
Your glare softens. 
“I’m sorry I upset you,” he furthers, the ever present pinch of his brows particularly severe. His eyes are dark like clouds full to bursting with rain. 
You don’t want to say it’s okay. You want him to cross the room and cuddle you up like you’re fragile, the way he does, his nose pressed to your temple as his hands grasp up your achy shoulders. 
“I’ll be better,” he says. 
“You really wound me up, you know? I already feel like I have cabin fever.” 
His eyes cast over you, sympathetic and sorry down to your stomach and up again. He’s pleading without speaking. 
You’re not mad anymore, anyhow. “Can you do that thing for me, please?” you ask quietly. 
Hotch crosses the distance between you and encourages you into his side and under his arm. Careful, he bends into your back, pressing his hand under the round bottom of your bump and pulling up. It takes some of the weight from your hips and spine, alleviating a certain heavy pain and discomfort, while also closing the sour gap between you both. 
“Aaron,” you say, a little shy, mostly relieved, “you should’ve brought Jack. You know I’ll come home if you ask me to. I wasn’t even that mad by the time we got back here.” 
His breath is a shudder by your ear. “I love you.” 
“I love you too.” You look out toward the hall. “Where’s Morgan?” 
“He said he’d go for a walk.” 
“He's a good friend.” 
“He’s a great friend,” Hotch agrees, rubbing the side of you with his other hand before he pulls away completely. “He told me you can always sleep over when I’m acting like your drill sergeant.” 
You laugh under your breath, leaning in with arms held up to slide over his shoulder. He lets out a sigh as your chests touch, your bump smushed, like he’s finally been cut from a trap. To think he’d be so clearly relieved at having your forgiveness has you emotional all over again, but not with the same red passion you’d been angry with before. “I’m your drill sergeant,” you mumble into his shoulder. 
“You’re my sweetheart,” he says, so quiet you’re sure it wasn’t him, so out of character to admit something like that on a random day. There’s a hint of joking under it, but enough sincerity simultaneously that you melt in his hold. “You are, and I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t sleep in your own bed.” 
“It’s not like I’d have been put out. Morgan’s got a California–”
“So you’ve told me.” His palm stays flat to your back, his fingers patting you gently. His voice mellows into that silken gentleness to match, the tone that drew you in and has you in such a terribly emotional position to begin with. “I couldn’t leave you here. I know you’d be more than comfortable, but I couldn’t sleep the night without you.” 
“Imagine how I feel when you’re away.” 
“I know. I know.” He kisses the skin shy of your eye. “Should we go and get Jack before bedtime?” 
“Can we get something to eat, too?” 
His answering smile is a curve on your cheek. “Mm-hm,” he hums. “Let me just say thanks to Morgan. Then we can go wherever you want.”
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Keeping You Warm (The Milkman x F!Reader)
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Author's Note: It's been a long (LONG) time since I wrote smut, so please excuse anything, plus English is not my native language so I apologise for any mistakes. But I do hope you enjoy this!
Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ Smut. However, it's quite light/soft, so to speak. The reader has a female genitalia.
Word Count: 1.957
“Double shift again, Francis?” I asked over the phone.
“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” I heard Francis’ tired voice say in almost a whisper.
“Is there really no other person who could take the shift? It’s the third time this week, Francis. You’re killing yourself.” I sighed as I rested my head on my hand.
“Not really; everyone has been quitting lately because of the rise in the number of the doppelgangers' sights.” I heard the sound of glass bottles clattering in the background.
“Just… Don’t push yourself too hard, okay? You’re already tired and worn out. I understand that there’s a job that needs to be done, but you’re human.”
“I know. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself. Don’t wait up for me, okay? Get your rest. You need it more than I do. Bye.”
“Bye.” I hung up the phone, lowered my head, and laid it on the table.
It has been nearly two weeks since I last saw Francis, which is foolish since we live in the same apartment. However, due to our jobs and taking shifts, our schedules haven't been exactly the same. It’s actually gotten worse because he’s been taking double shifts to cover the lack of people, and now he has to deliver the milk and stay an extra shift preparing all the packs for the next day, which means not only collecting the empty bottles but also refilling them and sorting them out in the boxes. We only see each other when the other one is asleep since I start my shifts early, and he only gets home quite late.
As I was lost in thought, someone knocked on the window. Steven was waving his papers to get into the building.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, proceeding with my work.
Eventually, my shift ended, and I went to my and Francis’ apartment. While setting down my things, I checked my schedule for the next day, and a big smile spread across my face. It was a day off. I decided to wait up for Francis, so for the next few hours, I occupied myself with getting dinner ready and tidying up the house. When I ran out of things to do, I sat in the living room watching one of my favorite shows.
It was past midnight when I heard the keys to the front door. Francis walked in looking as tired as ever, sighing as he locked the door, the tension leaving his shoulders at being home becoming visible.
“Welcome home, love,” I said, getting up from the couch.
“I told you not to wait up, (Y/N),” Francis whispered as he wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me tight.
“I’m not working tomorrow, so I thought I would wait for you,” I whispered back. I held his face in my hands, and he looked exhausted. “Do you want to go to bed? We could cuddle a little before sleep.”
“I would like that,” he smiled.
He followed me into the bedroom and started to get changed. I got in bed while waiting for him.
Soon, I felt his arms around my waist and his lips pressed against my neck. I turned off the lights and faced him. I put my palm on his cheek and caressed it with my thumb. I heard him sigh and move his head closer and I held it between my hands. His lips met mine in a soft and slow kiss.
“I missed you” Francis’s embrace tightened.
“I missed you too, my love” I smiled.
We kissed again, our lips moving slowly, just appreciating each other’s presence. His hand moved from my waist to my hip and down to my butt, giving it a light squeeze. I gasped slightly, and Francis took the opportunity to slide his tongue inside my mouth. What was just a lingering kiss turned into something more pressing. The warmth and softness of our lips, the wet touch of tongues, and the subtle taste of each other only added to my incoming arousal.
Unconsciously, I pushed my hips against his during the kiss, feeling his semi-hard dick. Francis moaned into the kiss. With his hand under my neck, he grabbed a fist full of my hair at the back of my head, squeezing tight and deepening the kiss. His other hand moved back to my waist, slipping under my shirt, caressing my skin, leaving goosebumps all over me.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, breaking the kiss and leaving both of us panting.
Francis rested his forehead on mine, and his hands continued rubbing the skin of my waist and neck.
“I thought you were tired,” I smiled.
“I am, but I want you,” he said hoarsely.
At the same time, his leg slipped between mine, pulling me closer by the waist. I could feel his need pressing against my intimate parts. I squeezed his leg between mine, rubbing my heat trying to ease my aching, but I knew he was exhausted, so I took the lead.
“What if I keep you warm?” I asked.
I spit a bit into my hand and reached for his pants, slipping under the waistband and into his underwear. I took his dick and started slowly moving, feeling him twitch. Francis groaned, and I felt his breath at the top of my head; he hugged me tighter and started to slowly, rocking his hips against my hand. I felt a chill down my spine; my core throbbed, and I felt it was getting wetter.
“Prep me up?” I mumbled.
Francis hummed, agreeing. His hand went from my waist to my heat, massaging my skin lightly along the way, and he pressed one finger to my entrance. I moaned quietly, continuing to pump him. He started to spread my juices around my lips and then pushed one finger inside. I moved my hips along with his finger, Francis kept his movements slow, and with each thrust, he touched a new spot inside me. Soon, he added a second finger, making me moan again and grind my hips in his hand.
“And I thought I was in need,” Francis chuckled.
“Francis…” I whimpered.
He pressed his thumb into my clit and began his scissors movements inside me, also curling his fingers to reach that sweet spot and stroke it, making me roll my eyes and breath heavily. I lifted my head, looking once again for his lips, and captured them in a hungrily open-mouth kiss, our tongues stroking each other rapidly and messy, with spit starting to drip.
I felt my walls pulsing around his fingers and that tickling sensation in my lower belly rushing me to grind faster. But I forced myself to stop. I pulled my hand away from his throbbing dick and grabbed his wrist, moving him away from me. I pushed Francis by the shoulder, laying his back on the mattress, and undressed myself. I lifted my leg and sat across Francis's lap, pulling his clothes down, freeing his dick, making him groan.
I kissed his tip and licked his entire length, from bottom to top, taking him to my mouth next. I took him until his tip reached the back of my throat and pumped the rest with my hand. I bobbed my head, sucking him and pressing my tongue against his flesh. Francis gave a husky groan and thrust his hips, hands tangling my hair.
When his dick was all wet, I raised myself and aligned my entrance with his tip. I slowly sink into him, feeling him twitch, relinquishing the feeling of his dick filling me up until he was all of him was inside me.
I set my hands on his stomach, getting used to the sensation of having him inside. Francis released a strangled breath, his hands resting on my thighs, caressing them with his thumbs.
When I was about to move, Francis took a strand of my hair and nestled it behind my ear, pulling me towards him by the back of my neck right after. He kissed me again, lips moving rapidly, only pulling away when we needed air.
The sudden movement had me squeezing his dick and he grinded his hips against me.
“Fucking tight,” Francis whispered.
I began rocking my hips, Francis matched my pace by grinding into me. Grunts and pants echoed in the bedroom; my hands were back on his stomach for balance, his hands pressed firmly on my waist to guide my movements and leave bruises. Each thrust felt heavenly, his dick sliding in and out, hitting the right spots every time, making me whimper and my legs shake.
The familiar tickling feeling in my lower belly came back, and my movements became erratic, faster, and sloppier, chasing that rush.
“I’m cuming,” I begged.
“Wait for me,” Francis urged.
He grabbed my leg and pushed my back onto the mattress. Settled between my legs, Francis resumed his movements, thrusting deep and fast. The change in position made me whine and squeeze him even tighter; it was bliss, the feeling of his weight on me, his grinding, and his dick rubbing every part inside me and hitting just the right spot.
“Francis, please” I begged again.
“Almost there” he grunted.
I tried my best to delay my incoming orgasm, focusing on Francis, on his short breaths, his muscles stiffening beneath my fingers, his raspy moans in my ear, just everything about him, taking my mind away from the pleasure he was giving me.
I tightened my legs around his body and my nails scratched his back, I was so close.
“Cum with me,” Francis pleaded.
I focused back on the sensation in my lower area. Francis sped up his pace, with chaotic and messy movements, as he began to shake. I felt the buildup of tension that made my back arch and my toes curl, like a clenching feeling. As soon as I thought that I couldn’t take it anymore, I sensed all that tension being released and pulsing throughout my body, an all-consuming release and euphoria. I moaned loudly against Francis's skin.
At the same time, Francis tensed up gave his final deep thrust and his dick throbbed inside me, releasing all of his seed, filling me up.
Francis kissed my lips tenderly, again, again and again, holding my face while supporting the weight of his body on one arm.
“I love you” he whispered between kisses.
“I love you too” I giggled, kissing him back.
He lay next to me, pulling me onto his chest. We stayed like that for a while, still panting and recovering.
“I’ll get you some water and a towel,” he said kissing my temple.
“No, it's okay I’ll get it” I pushed him down and got up. “I have to use the bathroom anyway. Do you need anything?”
“Just some water, please”.
I went to the bathroom, cleaned myself and then got a glass of water from the kitchen. When I came back to the bedroom, Francis’s breathing was deep and slow, suggesting that he was already asleep. I smiled and placed the water on his nightstand, I gave a small peck on his lips and laid down in bed, feeling my muscles relaxing after so much tension and pleasure.
The fact that our lives are regularly in danger because of the doppelgangers leaves everyone on edge, meaning that our time together safe at home is a blessing and a getaway from everything on the outside. Losing ourselves in each other is not only a reminder of being alive but also a reassurance that the other person we love so much is still by our side.
Thinking about all the things we do for each other, and while caressing softly Francis's face, I also fell asleep.
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soap-ify · 4 months
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can you do a smut to fluff comfort where simon is overstimulating them and being super degrading and they safeword? Then Simon takes care of them and is basically just super sweet.
this has been sitting in my inbox for so long :( so sorry anon i hope you like it!!
cw — smut at first, degradation, use of safeword, gentle aftercare and lots of comfort.
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simon had been frustrated that day, very frustrated after coming back from work. and you felt like trying something new for him.
“fucking slag… look at you takin’ this cock so well.” he spat bitterly, his girthy cock mercilessly ploughing into your tight cunt, his hands gripping your hips in a hard and bruising manner. “too dumb to even speak now, eh? only good for takin’ some cock.”
he had asked you so sweetly at first, if he could take his frustrations out on you, and you had agreed because you wanted to please your boyfriend so badly. plus some crappy porno made you think that rough sex can be amazing. silly reason, yeah.
but right now, all those insults spewing out of his mouth seemed genuine and scary, messing up with your head while your body was all sensitive from already orgasming a few times before. it was overwhelming, too overwhelming — and you knew that if you don’t speak up now, you’ll break down horribly anytime soon.
but god, you felt so guilty. you were supposed to be relaxing him, not turning it onto yourself.
“r-red…!” you managed to choke out, tears sliding down your cheeks as your fingers digged into his shoulder blades, causing simon to halt almost immediately.
“what?” his voice was gruff, eyes still a bit glossy from fucking you, though his grip had loosened significantly and worry was soon blooming onto his face.
“red…” you repeated weekly, lips wobbling as you quickly looked away, not wanting him to look at you crying over something like this.
simon gently eased himself out of you and rolled by your side, his calloused hands cradling your face. “oh, love… did i hurt you? was it too much?” he may have been sounding concerned and still reserved though he was internally panicking inside, wanting to rip and beat some sense into himself.
“yes,” you sniffled and nodded, your hands trembling as you leaned into his embrace, soft pants leaving your lips. “too rough..”
“fuck, m’sorry. so sorry, love. got carried away for a second, i-” he paused, his heart aching terribly with guilt and concern as he saw your face all soaked with tears. it soon dawned on him how mean he was being, even if you had agreed to it. he should’ve known that you were probably not used to this, maybe not even into it.
he slowly got up from the bed and helped you off the bed, his burly arms supporting you. he took you over to the bathroom and soon ran a warm bath for you, helping you sit in the bathtub, your little winces making his heart sink.
“i didn’t mean any of those words, y’know…” he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead, his fingers gently caressing your head.
“i know…” you sniffled and smiled up at him sheepishly. “maybe i’m too soft for all that.”
simon sighed softly and sat by the edge of the bathtub, not caring about himself at all right now. all of his focus was solely on you, helping you clean yourself and dry up once you were done, dressing you in some comfortable pajamas.
once he came back after cleaning himself up, he sat down on the edge of the bed and looked over at you, his once stern brown eyes now soft with love and pain. “i’m so sorry, i mean it…”
“don’t apologise, si…” you gently wrapped your arms around his neck, his hands supporting your hips as he carefully propped you on top of him once he laid down, caressing your lower back.
“i love you… never wanna hurt you, y’know. m’so proud of you for speakin’ the safeword. so proud of you.” he smothered your head with chaste kisses, his breath caressing your skin.
“i love you too…” you mumbled softly, exhaustion soon taking over you. you let his heartbeat lull you into sleep alongside his soft murmurs, feeling safe once again.
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utahimeow · 1 year
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home workout | wakatoshi ushijima
summary — wakatoshi works out at home. he looks hot doing it.
pairing — wakatoshi ushijima x reader
warnings — nsfw content. minors dni. smut, blowjob, cum swallowing, pet name ‘my love’
word count — 1.3k
author’s note — please listen to this audio of wakatoshi (and kuroo) breathing heavily for the most effective experience
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It’s not your fault your boyfriend is totally irresistible. He’s tempting you on purpose– you’re sure of it.
You’re trying so, so hard to focus on the reality show playing on the TV, but Waktoshi is being terribly obscene. A few feet away, he’s splayed out on a yoga mat, lifting dumbbells over his head.
It’s unintentional, the way he gasps and heaves and, ever so often, groans. It’s unintentional, yet it leaves you squeezing your thighs together and biting down on your tongue because your mind is starting to wander.
If you were a better person, you’d go to any other room in the house and let him work out in peace. But you stay seated, let your eyes creep over to the titan of a man in your living room.
He’s a powerhouse in every aspect. You’d think that maybe you’d be used to it after having him in your life for so long, but your eyes widen and drool pools in your mouth at the sight of him.
Thick, hard thighs. Veined arm muscles, straining. Carved pectorals and abdomen, clenching with every movement. Corded muscle over every inch of his body–a display of pure, unwavering strength. The manifestation of years of work he’s put into the sport he plays for a living now. Wakatoshi’s tan skin gleams with droplets of sweat, too, face flushed down to his chest.
It’s terribly, horribly teasing. It’s precisely what he looks like when he’s above you, rutting his powerful hips into yours relentlessly, face morphed into a mixture of concentration and bliss. It’s what he sounds like when he pounds away at you, brings you to tears from pure bliss.
You want him. You need him. Your mouth is too empty, you decide. So you stand, shuffling over to him with an edge of guilt.
“Can you stop?” you say, standing by his mat.
He pauses, thick eyebrows furrowing. Concern quickly fills his sharp features.
“What have I done, my love?”
“You’re hot. It’s distracting me,” you tell him, crossing your chest.
His shoulders sag when it hits him he hasn’t actually done anything wrong and he chuckles, a deep rumble in his broad chest. “I apologise. Can you forgive me?”
“I will if you let me suck your dick,” you say, already sinking to your knees between his robust thighs. There’s mischief dancing behind the batting of your eyelashes, enticing your sweet boyfriend.
Wakatoshi likes to think he’s focused– it’s what he’s been told all his life, by coaches and teachers alike. His concentration never wavers, his determination ever so stable. Around you, though? He becomes entirely unrelenting.
It’s why he doesn’t stop you as you paw at his jersey shorts, smoothing a hand up his thigh, along his crotch, up to the waistband. It’s why he nods when you peer up at him for permission to pull them down his legs, no matter how simple it would be for him to ask you politely to wait until he finishes the few reps he has left.
His boxers come down and his cock, half-hard, springs upwards in its entirety. Your fingertips barely touch when they wrap around the tanned flesh which jumps when you start stroking up and down gently.
Drool pools in your mouth, your lidded eyes dropping to the sight of your boyfriend’s perfect dick. With your bottom lip caught between your teeth, you pump up and down his veiny length until he’s rock hard and blushing and pearly rivulets of pre dribble from the slit of his tip.
That’s when you start to drag your tongue along him, from his base all the way to his head, watching attentively as his head falls back and he showcases his glistening Adam’s apple. He’s always so sensitive, falling apart at your slightest touch.
Your thumb teases his slit, smearing pre over his tip as it leaks while your tongue traces the veins that adorn his cock. And then, with a lustful hunger burning deep in your abdomen, your lips wrap around him and swallow.
You hardly give yourself a second to adjust as you take half of him without hesitation, tears welling and throat clenching as you adjust to the girthy intrusion. Wakatoshi hisses as his giant hand flies to your scalp, stopping you before you can push yourself any further.
“Easy, my love,” he says in a strained whisper.
It’s hard to take his advice when you peer up and catch the tensing of his hard muscles, the parting of his lips, and the affection that glimmers in his olive eyes. It urges you on, really.
You pull back with webs of spit connecting your lips to his cock, stomach fluttering as your boyfriend brings his hand to your cheek and strokes it with his thumb. A second later and you’re dipping your head back down to envelop your mouth around him, choosing to bob your head this time.
“Oh, f-” Wakatoshi cuts himself off with a groan, your throat so warm and tight around him that he shivers. He sighs when your free hand moves to grasp at one of his heavy balls, squeezing lightly but it’s just enough to make his cock throb in your mouth.
As you bob, you take him further and further until your nose is pressed to his pelvis and the dark wiry hairs of his happy trail tickle your skin. He squeezes his eyes shut from the jolts of pleasure that travel deep into his core, his brain turning to fog from the bliss of your slippery mouth. His flesh becomes seared, the blush on his cheeks seeping down to his chest.
Your throat clicks and splutters around him–he’s so big, not meant to be taken like this, and yet you do. With wet eyes and a numb mind, you keep him shoved down your mouth as your fingers take turns fondling one of his balls at a time.
Wakatoshi thinks he’s close to passing out. He can hardly remind himself to stave off his orgasm, too busy as he’s rapt by the burning pleasure of your tongue working his cock.
You pull away, heaving for air, but it’s only to mouth at his balls and suckle at them until they’re covered in your slobber. You trail your tongue along the underside of his cock next, watching him gulp– watching him slowly fall apart.
When you swirl your tongue and suck lightly at his tip, Wakatoshi moans. His abdomen tightens, his fingers scratching at your scalp as they tangle into your roots. He’s losing all semblance of composure. You can tell, from the way his thighs tense and ragged breaths fall from his lips.
“I’m- close,” he groans, low, through clenched teeth.
You’re bobbing your head again with determination, the lewd sounds every time you lower your mouth only bringing Wakatoshi to his edge more quickly. With your hand pumping up and down simultaneously, he doesn’t stand a chance.
His cock twitches in your mouth, and with a deep, rumbling groan that shakes his entire body, he releases. His warm load spills down your throat, his muscles bulging as pleasure wracks his huge body. A Roman god succumbing.
As you pull off of him to replenish your lungs, Wakatoshi’s mind is airy. To him, one thing becomes clear, however.
He lunges forward, scooping you up with ease despite having orgasmed just a moment ago.
“Wakatoshi!” you squeal as he tosses you upon the couch. He kisses you, messy, licking into your mouth like he’s trying to taste himself on your tongue. It makes your head spin.
“I’d like to make sure you’ll forgive me,” he says, still breathless and blushing. His hands wander up your t-shirt, fingertips brushing at your skin making you shiver. “Will you let me return the favour, please?”
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gay-dorito-dust · 4 months
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Just Jason being the human version of a house cat.
Someone on here said that Jason is just a massive lap cat and I can’t help but agree because just imagine it; an absolute beast of a man finding solace in resting specifically on your plush lap, his strong, warm arms caging your waist as his face is burrowed pleasantly into your stomach in content, groans in displeasure whenever he feels you move even the slightest of inches.
How dare you move when Jason was just getting comfortable, apologise now for your transgressions.
Jason’s warmth would be advantageous to you during the colder months but an absolute nightmare during the summer, more so if you’re the type to get warm really easily and it ends up irritating you. But this is neither here nor there.
‘Jaybirdie?’ You ran your hand through his hair, scratching his scalp now and then.
Jason groans, showing that he was listening.
‘I’ve got to get going soon or else they’ll call and ask why I’m late.’ You tell him as you felt his arms tighten and you smile. ‘And I can’t exactly say that my 6’2 boyfriend is sprawled across my lap like a stubborn house cat that is refusing me to leave. Now can I?’ You finished, moving your hand away from his hair and focusing on rubbing his upper back, wishing you could see his muscles beneath the black t-shirt. You could only being to imagine the way his beautiful muscles would contract and relax from your touch as though they were like the waves you’d see at the beach, webbing and flowing; it was borderline enticing.
‘Then don’t go then. Simple as.’ His muffled voice said against your stomach.
‘I can’t, I promise to help out at work because someone called in sick…again.’ You muttered out the last part. You didn’t know why your co-worker wasn’t sacked for having so much time off but you knew you weren’t the only one that didn’t like them, and from what you’ve been told by older co-workers, this wasn’t the first time they’ve done this and even then you were surprised that they still even had a job to come back to. So because of them, you and your fellow co-workers were being worked to the bone to cover their hours on top of your own.
‘Again?’ Jason asked, lifting his head up from your lap, having been kept up to date on the goings on in your workplace. ‘How haven’t they gotten pulled in for that shit?’
You shrugged your shoulders, genuinely as baffled as he was about the whole thing. ‘Honestly have got the slightest clue Jay, but It’s all the more reason for me to go.’
Jason groans as he reluctantly lets you go but now you were the one upset at the sudden loss of his warmth and that must’ve been apparent on your face as Jason smirked mischievously as he reassumed his position on your lap, his strong arms went back to holding your waist tightly and his face burrows back into your stomach as he sighs in content once more.
‘See, now you don’t wanna go now because your Jaybirdie won’t be there to keep you warm.’ He teased as you tugged at his hair, causing him to groan.
‘That’s not-‘
‘Oh don’t play the coy card with me sweetheart, we’ve already been through that stage in our relationship.’ Jason cuts you off. ‘because if you wanted to leave that badly you wouldn’t be rubbing my back or running your hand through my hair like you are right now.’ Jason then looks up at you with a raised brow as if challenging you in daring to say otherwise when you both knew the truth.
‘It’s just- we don’t typically get enough time together.’ You began. ‘Crime in Gotham has been on an increase as of late, which is taking much of your time, and work has been asking everyone to pitch in and help cover until our co-worker decided to comes back at their own accord.’ You paused to stroke Jason’s cheek, internally melting when you felt him press his face further into your hand, gingerly kissing your palm. ‘It just doesn’t give us enough time for moments like these, the moments we crave most.’
‘The moments where we’re just together.’ Jason finishes for you and you muttered a small ‘yeah.’
A silence befalls you both as you tried to engrain this moment into your memory because neither of you knew when the next time you got to peacefully exist in tandem, whether that be doing your own thing or doing something together, just as long as you were with each other for longer then a fleeting five minutes.
‘So do you still want to go to work?’ Jason asked. ‘Or do you want to be selfish for once?’
You gave it some thought and soon after began to reach for your phone and punch in the work number as Jason squeezed a thigh in his large hand. ‘Selfish it is.’ He murmured with a smile as he gotten himself comfortable before feeling you run your fingers through his hair once more.
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