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morganofthewildfire · 1 year

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The Trouble With Tinder

part 2

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part 1 here

CW: NSFW

i know this probably sucks 😅 it felt very awkward to write, but it's finally here!!! let me know what you think!

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Her first thought was to chuck her phone across her room. What the fuck?

“Oh you’re so stupid,” she said to herself, immediately sitting up on her knees, staring at the screen below. Not only did she swipe right, seemingly so did he. So yeah, what the fuck?

Tinder had opened up a chat screen for the two of them, almost taunting the hell it’d brought down on her. Even if she ignored it, what was she supposed to say at work on Monday?

Oh yeah, sorry I was drunk and horny. I saw your shirtless pic and I wanted to lick you all over.

Because that would go well.

He couldn’t judge her too much, because he’d apparently done the same. She’d curated her profile to perfection with Lysandra months ago, and there were several thirst traps on there. It was probably the same situation. Maybe they could both just sweep it under the rug.

But her traitorous thumb thought differently.

Instead of shutting off her phone and going to bed like she should, she typed out -

< What are you doing on here?

It sent before she could stop herself, and she flopped back down onto her bed, groaning. She was contemplating just never leaving the bed, until she had a little ping signaling a response.

Warily, she grabbed her phone again, swiping it open to reveal a response.

> I could ask you the same

Her lip was tucked beneath her teeth, her toes curling in the disheveled comforter as she heard the words replay in her head in his voice. That deep, smooth voice. It was probably raspy in the morning, gravelly and all growly after a night of steamy sex…

< Five shots and three cocktails, that’s why I’m here

She was surprised her words weren’t more cluttered with typos, she was a messy texter when she was sober. So maybe the alcohol had somehow made her more coherent, or at least sound more coherent.

> six shots and two whiskeys, I’ve got you beat

His response came, and she rolled over onto her back, her thumbs typing faster than she could think. Her brain was not in charge of this conversation, her body was.

> Is that why you swiped right?

His response was almost instantaneous.

> Who says I swiped right?

She frowned, typing out -

< What do you mean? We matched idiot

What a creative insult. She would’ve done better without the alcohol coursing through her system.

> Fenrys had my phone, thought you were hot

Oh Fenrys. One of his friends. The only semi cool one. All of the others, who she’d met unwillingly at an office happy hour, were absolute grumpsters. Especially Lorcan Salvaterre. Fenrys had been fine, a little too peppy for her, but they got along better than others.

And apparently thought she was hot? And swiped right for his friend?

She didn’t get it. And she was going to make it his problem.

< What about you Rowan?

< Do you think I’m hot?

There was no response for a sickeningly long time, and Aelin was gnawing at her lip, debating on whether she should throw out her phone or not when he finally answered.

> Why do you think I’m messaging you right now?

It was an answer, but it also wasn’t an answer, and she decided to pry further, pursing her lips as she typed in a fury.

< To further demean and criticize my work at the office? It’s your favorite hobby after all

She wasn’t sure she was breathing as the typing bubble popped up, disappearing and reappearing several times before he finally hit send.

> Because I saw your godsdamned pictures and I want to fuck that sass out of you

She definitely wasn’t breathing. Her heart was thudding heavily in her chest, her whole body alight with flame as she read and reread those dirty words.

A haze had taken her over, lust clouding absolutely every inch of common sense as she typed back -

< What’s stopping you?

A heavy breath escaped her as she hit send, her body pulsing as she waited for his reply. This was dangerous, this was bad, this wasn’t going to go well. But in that moment … she didn’t care.

An uncountable amount of time passed as she waited, and the silence pressed on her, weighing down on every inch of her heated skin until… her phone rang.

Her breath caught as she saw the contact information pop up on the screen. Rowan Shitthorn. She’d had to save his number for work reasons, but she also hadn’t been able to resist cursing him out at the same time, professionalism be damned.

They were about to throw professionalism even further out the window, but she couldn’t find it in herself to regret it as she pressed accept on the phone call, lifting the device up to her ear.

Silence fell again, her heart pounding as she waited for him to say something, undoubtedly as he waited for her to say something too. All she could hear was the sound of her own shallow breaths, mingling with the hoarse ones of his rumbling across the line.

Every nerve in her body was already on edge, one touch sending a bolt of lightning skittering across every inch of her skin.

“What are you wearing?” His voice rumbled through the phone, and her eyes fluttered shut, her free hand crumpling the material at her waist.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she said, forever insufferable, her core turning to liquid at the growl he let out.

“I’m guessing it’s a dress,” Rowan said, his voice low. “Something tight and impossibly short. So short I bet my hand could slip right up under it without any trouble at all.” Her flush spread from her cheeks down her neck and across her chest, her body craving something, craving him.

“Would you, Rowan?” She breathed. “If you were here right now, would you touch me?”

“Gods, yes,” he cursed, his words coming out in a groan that made her body melt even more. “I shouldn’t, but I want to.” She could hear the slight slurring in his voice, betraying that he was just as drunk as her, but if anything it was better. They could just write this off as a drunken mistake, right?

“What would you do?” Aelin asked, her voice low and breathy. She put the phone on speaker, setting it next to her on the sheets. With her now free hands, she glided her fingertips across her exposed skin, every touch a little burst of energy. “What would you do to me, Rowan?”

She loved saying his name. She didn’t say it enough.

“Are you touching yourself?” He said, his voice an enthralling purr.

“Yes,” she whispered. One hand had dipped below the hem of her impossibly short dress, tracing the damp fabric of her underwear, the other up by her breasts, toying with her sensitive peaks through the dress.

“Stop it,” he said, and she blinked in surprise, her eyes cracking open. But her hands did stall.

“What?” Aelin asked, her stomach dropping as she worried she might’ve misread this whole situation. Maybe he was ready for some dirty talk and some flirting, but not anywhere near this far.

“You’re only going to touch yourself when I tell you to.”

Oh. Oh.

She pulled both her hands from their respective places, instead letting them fall to her sides.

“Well?” She said, her voice strained as her eyes fell shut again. Maybe that would make it easier to pretend that he was there with her for real. “I’m waiting.”

A chuckle crackled across the phone, and she shivered.

“Is that slutty dress of yours still on?” He said smoothly, and she fought the noise trying to escape her. She didn’t often indulge in the spicier side of her sexual preferences, never having really been in a serious enough relationship to voice them. But here she was, with a man she was not in a relationship with, but who’d been able to guess what she wanted from a few words.

“Yes,” she whispered, heat pooling in her core.

“Then take it off,” he ordered, and she followed suit, sliding the straps of the dress down until she could pull it off her body. “Good girl.”

Her cheeks flushed at the praise.

“What about you?” She couldn’t help but snark back. “Are you hard?” She let the words sit before continuing. “Does thinking about me touching myself make you want to touch yourself too?”

“I always want to touch myself when I think of you.”

The words were somehow a mix of strangely vulnerable, while also dirty, and creepy if said by anyone else in any other situation. Right here, right now, she didn’t know what to say.

And it seemed neither did he, and they fell into a charged silence.

All she could hear were his heavy breaths, and a shuffling of clothes she could recognize as his pants. Imagining his hand around his cock, jerking himself off to thoughts of her made her need grow even more desperate, and she couldn’t help but voice it.

“Where would you touch me, Rowan?” Aelin asked, “If you were here, where would you touch me?” He hesitated, and before she could stop herself she nearly begged - “Please, Rowan. I need you.”

It was something she would normally pride herself on never saying, certainly never to him, but here they were.

“I’d start with those pretty tits of yours,” he said. “Rough them up a bit and tease those nipples until they’re red and aching for me.” She let out a moan, her hands following his words, massaging her breasts and rubbing her nipples with her thumbs, occasionally pinching them between two fingers.

“Then what,” she gasped, eyes squeezed closed. Her turls curled in her sheets, her knees propped up to the ceiling.

“I’d drag my tongue down that delicious body of yours,” he continued, and she followed the path with her hands, “before peeling that scrap of fabric around your hips away and devouring you like you’re the best damn meal I’ve ever tasted.”

A deep moan escaped her as she circled her clit with a finger, both from his words and from the heavy touch.

“Oh fuck,” Aelin cursed under her breath as she pressed a finger into herself, and then another.

“Are you wet, Aelin?” Rowan growled, “Are you wet for me, baby?”

“I’m so wet,” she gasped, thrusting her fingers in and out of her soaked pussy. “Gods, Rowan,” she moaned, “I need you so bad.”

Tomorrow Aelin was going to absolutely murder Today Aelin. But as she neared that cliff of pleasure, as she massaged her breast with one hand and fingered herself with the other, she gave absolutely zero fucks.

She heard him grunting through the phone and she knew he was close too.

“Come for me, baby,” Rowan said, no ordered, and who was she to resist?

She shattered around her fingers, noises she’d never made before slipping out of her mouth as she climaxed harder than she had in a long time. White crept into her vision, her core tightening and her body thrashing a bit as she fell into the grasps of pleasure. She heard groaning and knew he was coming too.

The thought just made the pleasure that much stronger.

When she finally came down, she panted for air, her hair stuck to her sweaty skin, her sheets scrunched up around her from the jostling. Heavy breathing sounded in her ears, his breathing, and it was only her post-orgasm clarity that made her realize what she’d just done. What they’d just done.

Gods, she needed to stop drinking.

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lesvieuxjoursart · 1 year

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Distinguished Cockney gent seeks companionship

#noel fielding fanart #paper noel adventures #noel fielding #mighty boosh #the mighty boosh #the hitcher #hitcher #eels #cockney #tinder #dating #worstdateever #humor #peppermint nightmare #parody #art #digital edit #yep I'm trouble alright

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irulancorrino · 1 year

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a dude I matched with on tinder like literally 3+ months ago messaged me... I have put dating on hold since then lol. it’s ghostin’ time 😬

#does tinder mark messages as read #cuz I opened em sdkjhfskjfh #I mean honestly I might not even ghost and like tell him that I'm busy w work troubles or whatever #it's technically even sort of true lmao #personal

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givemetherapyimawritingtravesty · 2 years

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Bad tinder bios pt2:

"I play a bunch of instruments (but would never tug on your heart strings 😏)"

#bad tinder bios #out of context quotes #i hope y'all are ready #i have two weeks of these queued up #sorry not sorry #shit is funny and i want to share #i'll save you the trouble of downloading the app

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scarluxia · 5 months

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so, my dad decided to pick a fight over nothing and cancelled Thanksgiving.He left buying the turkey to the last minute, knowing I went out of town & wouldn't have time or money to buy things after I got back. He depended on his IHSS care provider to drive him to the store. She didn't show up. Then he wanted me to ask my care provider & threw a fit AT ME when she said no. I'm tired of his random-ass temper tantrums over absolutely fucking NOTHING so I blocked him on Discord and Facebook so then he started harassing me via text message. I muted the conv and I'm making L screen & respond to them because I can't deal with it. I had even offered to just order a turkey for delivery and he went "This isn't about the turkey! You need to fire your caretaker because she said no to something!" And it's like, what in the entitlement?

The reason Thanksgiving is important to me is the family tradition aspect. I just like having a special dinner and watching Addams Family Values, but looks like I'm going to have to make new traditions.

I also get upset about random things and sometimes allergic to solutions, but it happens a lot less since I moved out & found a mental health team to work with. It's so anxiety-inducing having to deal with someone who constantly thinks the worst of everyone, accused people of having an agenda, and puts down explanations as making excuses. Since before I was 9-- I actually can't remember much farther back than that, but I wasn't ever allowed to be innocent. Like, I was always presumed guilty of taking advantage or being some kind of manipulative that I didn't have any idea what he was talking about.

And I don't want Lucius exposed to that. Hope my dad enjoyed his last visit with the small one because he's not getting another until he can process his shit and be CIVIL. Meanwhile Loki and I have to look into storage units and get my stuff out of that apartment. I haven't really lived there for three years, so might as well.

#As an adult I'm still constantly getting In Trouble for things I don't understand #I've been banned from Tinder; OKC; Bumble; and Plenty of Fish; for following social scripts / copypasting answers to canned questions #Or maybe people reported me for rejecting them who TF knows #And I've been witch hunted on regular social sites more than once because sometimes I don't know how to imitate a normal person #So I say or do something slightly off and then everyone hates me #Nextdoor also doesn't like me lol #They accused me of spamming “commerce” when I was showing off my art #Then deleted all my followup posts explaining myself and expressing my feelings #Apparently having feelings as an individual is illegal but whatever

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prodigyprosecutor · 7 months

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wish i was engaging in gay dating. also wish i had chips

#personal #the trouble is that i never KNOW when i will want chips #like once every three months i develop a craving for chips. but on no regular schedule #also the trouble is that tinder fucking sucks

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nearisqueer · 1 year

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The two most difficult parts of my personal growth are simultaneously just adjacent to each other, but also inextricably linked. It is at once the realisation that, while I don't need to forgive or forget the harm that has been done to me, every single person who has inflicted harm deserves to be healed, deserves the chance to grow and learn and do better, and that I have done harm for which I will not be forgiven. I, too, deserve healing, and it is my responsibility to make good on the damage I've done. If you want a kind and compassionate society, if you want a world that values people and acknowledges the individual capacity for change, you need to create one that allows for the exercising of that capacity. I'm a prison abolitionist because I believe in everyone's capacity for change. I'm a die-hard prison abolitionist because I know that punishment does nothing to heal damage done, and that it is far more worthwhile to try to rehabilitate everyone and fail some people than it is to punish all wrongdoing and fail everyone.

I believe that there is no single action or crime or bit of harm from which one cannot heal. And I mean that and am willing to defend that to the logical extremes. And I don't say this as someone without skin in the game, I've been subejct to some really horrible shit and I still would rather see every single one of the people who've hurt me be given the chance to fix things than see a single one of them endure a pain even half as bad as they've inflicted. The main arguments against prison abolition or in favour of punishment are "well what about these terrible things, you think people who do those shouldn't face consequences, or that the survivors or victims don't deserve justice?"

Well as a survivor I'd like to say, number one, you advocate not for justice but for revenge. Revenge helps no one. It does not undo the damage and it does not help others learn the right thing to do in the future. Number two, I do believe these people deserve consequences. Those consequences should be reparative and restorative, not vengeful or punishing. The point is to make the world better for everyone, not worse for the people who "deserve it". As much as everyone holds the capacity for growth and change, so too do we all hold the capacity for destruction and harm. Every single one of us will make mistakes and hurt people and have regrets. If you believe you don't deserve to grow, then I am sorry you've been made to feel that way, and I guarantee without a shadow of a doubt that you are incorrect.

And yeah this isn't an easy viewpoint to hold. I've been socialised to believe instinctively that punishment is how to deal with harm. That you smack someone to keep them in order or that you need to arrest someone who has stolen from you. Every day for me means choosing kindness and reminding myself that that course of action is unhelpful. And many many days i fail, i make mistakes, i don't exercise the kindness I'd like to or extend the patience I'd like extended to me. And what I need to do about that, is just keep trying to be better. I need to know I will keep fucking up for my whole life and the only thing I can do is try to fuck up a little less every day. I need to know i won't be able to do that. I need to know that I tried anyway.

#its half past midnight this post probably makes no sense its so meandering and inscrutable but #i need to say this #prison abolition #choosing kindness #anarchism #anarchist #restorative justice #i wanna be the person who gives a chance to the troubled teen everyone else thinks is a lost cause #i wanna be the one who helps that kid realise theyre more than their mistakes #that theyre more than peoples expectations #i wanna be the reason old people change their minds about the younger generation #i just wanna help the world get better #someone i thought was an old friend recently matched with me on tinder #turns out they'd been harbouring resentment and when they saw me on tinder they took it as an opportunity to get back into my life #exclusively to be cruel to me #i hurt that person in a very real way and i was morose for days after #its been a couple weeks and it still occupies space in my mind #ill always wish id handled that friendship differently #that i didnt hurt that person #and I'll always wish theyd responded in a more productive and restorative way #but i have grown since i held the mindset in which i hurt them #and i believe in their capacity for growth too #i dont need to be there for it #and i wont #even if the opportunity arose id politely decline at this point #but they dont need me around to realise they acted immaturely and chose to inflict more suffering #idk #its been on my mind a lot and i just hope i havent irreparably caused more harm #recently some customers in work have confirmed in some small ways that ive been successful in my goal #of causing more good and joy in the world

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januarymonae · 1 year

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one of my roommates is pissing the rest of us off so fucking badly rn oh my fucking god.

#bring their tinder dates (they have a bf) over. the latest one is abt to be spending the THIRD night in a row over.#and i know they’re having troubles w their bf rn so like. um.#explore your polygamy/infidelity era elsewhere please. i don’t need to be a part of this uhaul #txt

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ohmygraves · 4 months

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it started off as a prank.

soap and gaz were fooling around, really. nothing too serious, not expecting much from it. hell, the account was in soap's phone. ghost didn't even know anything about it.

the two created a tinder account for the lieutenant, just to see what kind of people would be so inclined to message a masked man like him.

photos were taken candidly, most of it from soap's own stash (don't ask). something more serious was cropped from group pictures, from either the bar or during a mission. gaz thought of the introduction, with little embellishments to make it more ridiculous. the goal was to see how many would swipe right to the scary, masked lieutenant.

of course, the sergeants were surprised to see so many match notifications, to the point that soap's phone would just erupt with notification sounds, even during briefings. safe to say, the poor scot got in trouble, and ended up turning off the notification for the app.

most of the matches seems to be coming from a place of lust, a lot of requests of one night stands or fuck buddies (what is it with people who liked masked men, the two thought). many seemed very forward and to the point with what they wanted. it was ridiculous trying to scroll through the first messages and reading them one by one.

but then there's you.

you: hello, i feel like i've seen you before. are you staying at the base near (location)?

soap and gaz thought your first message was interesting. it could be that you knew the lieutenant somewhere, or had seen him at least once. you seem to be a real person too, judging from your profile. photos of you indicated as such.

gaz wanted to call it quits, ghosts you just like every other match that they received, but soap wanted to take it a step further, even if gaz was completely against the idea. bickering for a while, soap ended up sending a text, and that's how you started talking to "ghost".

ghost: yeah. do i know you from somewhere?

soap had expected it to be a flirting attempt, though he was surprised to see an actual answer.

you: oh, i think i've seen you a few times outside of the base.

you: i frequent the café nearby ^^

oh, you're so cute and innocent, soap kinda felt bad for lying now.

ghost: i see

ghost: perhaps i'll see you sometime too? ;)

soap got addicted to posing as ghost. the two of you texted back and forth during his break, sometimes even at night. soap stayed up and missed some sleep just for some elaborate joke that kept going and going, and gaz was just tuning into the drama too.

everything was fun at first, not everyday the scot got to roleplay as the lieutenant, especially since the man was such a dry texter. it was funny trying to come up with an awkward reply or even just flat messages when talking to you. you were just so nice and oblivious to it though.

soap nearly lost his marbles when you asked to meet up in the cafe near the base, and asked when it was possible. you knew that soldiers frequently are given a leave, so perhaps "ghost" would love to meet you when he had the time. the scot was sure that he went too far this time, earning "i told you so" look from gaz even when he's clearly also enjoying the shenanigans.

they decided that it's finally time to come clean to the man in question.

ghost, of course, was furious. not only that this was a violation of privacy, soap and gaz had wasted a random person's time because of some elaborate joke that went too far. now they even want to meet with him too.

soap thought that the only way to fix this was just to inform you as well. it was only fair as you're also affected by this. hell, he didn't even know that his "casual" flirting (which was a loose term considering ghost's texting habits that soap adapted for this roleplay) would be enjoyed by someone, even getting the lieutenant a date too. the scot insisted that you two still meet anyway, and that he would be there too to apologize.

ghost, of course, was definitely against it. he had been dragged into this against his will, and it's not like he had the time too. why would he entertain the two sergeants who got him into this mess—

but perhaps just a cup of tea with a beautiful person like you would be nice... perhaps...

reluctantly, ghost agreed to the date, letting soap talk to you to set up a time and place. while looking at your pictures and the past conversations, he didn't seem to mind that he's now on some sort of a blind date...

#this was so long but such an elaborate way to write that you somehow scored a date with ghost because of soap and gaz #perhaps ill write more abt this idea #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod #call of duty headcanon #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #cod ghost x reader #cod headcanon #fake tinder profile au

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 2 months

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It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 20] || [Chapter 22]

Pairing: Gaz x Reader x Ghost x Soap || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K~ cw: - Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: yikes.

Chapter 21: I BEG YOUR PARDON?

It was a familiar sight.

Gaz across the desk, Soap next to him behind the spare chair, Ghost in the back of the room a foot against the wall and arms crossed.

Except this time, Price was standing up, pacing the narrow space behind his desk, from the window to the wall.

“Explain it to me slow.” He demanded. “Like I’m five years old.” He had his arms crossed over his chest as he paced.

“Well, when Ma and Da love each other very much-” Soap began.

“Soap, I will put your head through the bloody wall.” Price threatened.

The shit-eating grin that had been on the Scot’s mouth was suppressed by a pressing of lips together, rapid blinking, and a nod. He had tried and failed at having a laugh at the Captain’s expense.

“Sorry, sir.” He replied.

“Explain.” Price demanded again, hands folded behind his back.

“I started it.” Ghost said from his corner of the room. “Kept talkin’ with ‘em after you had your little one-night stand.”

The younger sergeants didn’t look over. It’s become a strange thing to see Ghost at work, when they’ve gotten a bit more familiarized with Simon instead, back in your flat.

“Why?” Price asked in earnest as he looked at Ghost, stopping in his tracks to properly face him.

“‘Cause they make me feel good.” Ghost replied and crossed his arms.

Price stared at Ghost and, for a moment, his glare softened and his brow relaxed. “I see.”

With a deep breath, the older man tossed himself down onto his desk chair, legs spread and hands resting on his thighs.

“That doesn’t explain the two of you lot.” He pointed at Gaz and Soap.

“I found out about Ghost dating ‘em after they reached out to me to check on him because he went MIA.” Gaz replied.

“And how does that in you bein’ a bloody… polycule?” Price asked.

“I sort of took ‘em on a date on accident and realized how they made me feel and that I wanted to date ‘em.” Gaz said simply.

“And I thought Gaz and Ghost were dating and then found out they’re in fact also dating the same person and not just each other and-” Soap began to explain.

“Pump the breaks.” Price demanded. “Dating each other?” He repeated, sounding like he was this close to blowing a gasket.

“Nicely done, mate.” Gaz said sarcastically and hid his face in his palm, accidentally dislodging his baseball hat from his head.

“I BEG YOUR PARDON? YOU BLOODY FUCKIN’ IDIOTS ARE DATIN’ EACH OTHER?” Price raised his voice and stood up swiftly, sending the chair rolling back against the cabinets behind him.

When no one replied, he glared specifically at Ghost in the back of the room who, himself, was looking off to the side and looked at Price with an incriminating gaze..

“SIMON’S IN YOUR DIRECT CHAIN OF COMMAND!” Price scolds… Soap and Gaz only. “DO YOU KNOW THE TROUBLE THAT CAN BRING?!”

The three men remain silent, eyes forced open out of worry that blinking again will just set the captain off some more.

“IT’S ALREADY BAD ENOUGH THAT YOU’RE ALL DIPPIN’ YOUR DAMN COCKS IN THE SAME HOLE LIKE THEY’RE SOME SORT OF BARRACKS BUNNY BUT-” Price continued his tirade.

“Calm down.” Ghost commanded as he pushed away from the wall and approached the desk.

“Simon, don’t you tell me to calm down.” John ordered, though his voice sounded a lot more calm indeed.

“I’ll tell you to calm down if I reckon I should.” Ghost quipped and set his hand on the edge oof the desk, using his height to go toe-to-toe with their boss.

“You had fun with ‘em too, didn’t you?” Ghost asked with a cocked brow.

“That’s neither here nor there-”

“Cut the bullshit. Answer the bloody question.” Ghost commanded.

“I did.” Price admitted with a grumble and looked away.

“We’re just enjoyin’ ourselves too.” Ghost replied. “They’re considerate, funny, good company…” He trailed off.

“And they have a bloody flat that we can spend time in, with a proper kitchen for good meals, and a proper bedroom with a comfortable bed, and a proper shower that doesn’t have 20 other blokes bum ass naked-” Gaz joked.

“Right, it’s only 2 other blokes instead.” Soap added and him and Gaz nudged each other, earning a stern glare from the two officers in the room.

“Point is-” Ghost replied as he looked at Price. “You saw they’re nice.” He said directly. “Can’t fault us for likin’ ‘em.” He said directly.

“No, but I can fault you idiots for bein’ involved with each other on TOP of ‘em.” Price argued.

“Okay, so it’s not our proudest moment-” Ghost acknowledged. “But it’s happenin’. And you need to keep your mouth shut.” He demanded.

“OF BLOODY COURSE I’M KEEPIN’ MY MOUTH SHUT, SIMON! Fuckin’ hell!” Price complained and threw his hands up before turning to grab a cigar from his case.

“The brass will have all our bollocks f’r breakin’ nonfraternization rules. You f’r doin’ it, me f’r knowin’ it.” He grumbled as he cut the tip of his cigar with a huff.

“Not to mention I’ve been involved in this mess to begin with ‘cause I let you lot talk me into havin’ a one-night stand with ‘em.” Price continued, murmuring under his breath and scolding them without really scolding them.

“I can never get a ’old of you lot noawadays.” Price explained. “You’re meant to be on call.” He reiterated. “Always reachable. Always ready to fly out.”

“Yet I had to call Soap over 40 times two weeks ago ‘cause he was ‘asleep’-” He continued his rant.

“Aye, I was.” Soap replied, earning a shush from Gaz and a smack on the arm.

“And the moment we dismiss you lot from debriefs or meetings, you’re all running off to go be with ‘em, ‘xcept I didn’t know that was the reason until now, and it’s so much bloody worse than I ‘xpected.” Price complained.

The man was halfway through lighting his cigar and taking a puff when Ghost spoke again.

“If they didn’t find out about Cardiff, London, Cairo, Cabo, or Tel Aviv, they won’t find out now.” Ghost retorted.

Price whipped around so fast the younger lads could swear he’d give himself whiplash. “Don’t you bring that up.” He said to Ghost as he used his cigar to point at Ghost.

“I’m just sayin’.” Ghost replied, completely calm and unbothered. “If the brass hasn’t found out about the shite we’ve done while on the field, they won’t find out about us during leave.” He replied.

“Simon-” Price tried starting before he huffed through his nose and rubbed his eyes with his fingers. Ghost simply shrugged and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

“Bloody fuckin’ ‘ell.” Price complained and sat back down on his chair, setting down his cigar on the lip of the ashtray and rubbing his face.

“Just get out.” He grumbled and waved them off with a dismissive gesture of his hand.

He didn’t peek from the spot where his face was hidden in his hands as he heard the men shuffling around and leaving the office.

Just as the door slipped to a close behind them, he heard Soap asking Ghost: ‘What happened in Cardiff?’

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #soap x reader

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userlando · 8 months

Text

sweetener — oscar piastri

oscar piastri x fem!reader [4.2k] summary: you'd shown him a picture of a couple on a date, painting. it was an offhand comment from you, something along the lines of ‘I’d love to do that’ that oscar had apparently stored away in his mind. warnings: 18+ explicit smut & language, semi-public sex, cunnilingus. a/n: hellooo my loves, this was completely inspired by the mclaren painting video and I just couldn't resist writing it. it was time that oscar made his debut on my blog so hope you enjoy this. as always, don't be a ghost reader bc i'd love to hear your thoughts!! happy reading xx

Your boyfriend was a closeted romantic but not many people believed it. He was sarcastic, funny and way more intelligent than people gave him credit for and your friends had warned you of lovebombing when you first started dating.

They couldn’t believe that a man his age could be so sweet, doting on you from the start and planning your dates whereas, in the past, you’d handle everything, secretly wishing that the men on Tinder could - for once - plan nice dates that didn’t involve a couch, a movie and minimal dry conversation that lead nowhere.

It was on your fourth date, when Oscar had taken you for a fun night of mini golf that you realised that you’d quite literally struck gold. And when he’d wrapped his arms around you to help you put and kissed your cheek, you knew you were screwed.

Summer break had just begun but you were still swamped with work, sitting in online meetings until your back turned sore and Oscar kept his distance out of respect for exactly two days before he grew bored and restless. He had your full attention during nights, where you’d go for late night drives to get your usual soggy fries and milkshakes, but he saw how you were growing more and more agitated from work and he couldn’t have that.

It was a bit tricky to set up a picnic basket, packing everything up neatly for a drive out to a meadow he’d come across a few months ago. It was something he’d randomly planned - and scrolled through Pinterest for, and the look on your face was worth all the trouble and then some.

You’d cupped his face in your hands and pressed smacking kisses to his face in thanks, squealing in barely contained excitement as you skipped into your room to change out of your sweats. And when you’d emerged… Oscar had half a mind to throw the plans to the wind, restraining his urge to grab you by the hips and guide you back into the bedroom.

He couldn’t stop staring as you walked in front of him, watching the way your legs moved as you took large and calculated steps over the tall grass. You were surrounded by beautiful flowers and greenery, but his eyes were focused on you and the flowy dress you wore. The hem of it was kissing the tops of your thighs, beautiful and flattering on you but then again, everything you wore was. It must’ve been new, because Oscar would have definitely remembered a dress like that.

You turned your head to shoot him a smile over your shoulder that was brighter than the sun above and Oscar stumbled a little, causing you to giggle as you stuck your hand back for him to grab. The warmth of your palm made him squeeze it in his grasp, taking a few big strides to fall into step with you.

“This is beautiful.” You mused, voice laced with wonder and he was nodding, even though his eyes were trained on you.

“Yeah.” He murmured, sounding faraway and you shot him an amused glance that Oscar absolutely loved.

The furrowed brows and teasing tilt of his lips would be the death of him. He glanced up, scanning his eyes for a good place to spread out the blanket and he made a pleased sound in his throat when he spotted a hidden spot beneath a gigantic tree. It had plenty of shade and he thanked his lucky stars because he’d forgotten sunscreen and the sun was brutal today. He’d hate to see you get sunburnt. Although he never did mind rubbing you down with aloe.

Oscar cleared his throat when his mind started wandering, ridding himself of his thoughts as he steered the both of you to the spot under the tree. You followed him, humming a song quietly and he couldn’t help but smile at the serenity of it all.

You took a few moments to spread out the blanket, toeing off your shoes and settling down with a sigh. Oscar popped open the lid of the basket and reached inside for the bottle of Orangina and champagne.

“Ah, fuck.” He swore as he peered down into the basket, making you frown in concern.

“What?” You scooted closer, craning your neck to see what he was looking at.

“I forgot the glasses.” He looked up at you, giving you an apologetic smile that you were quick to wave off. “Sorry, love.”

“That’s fine.” You made grabby hands at the bottle, watching him pass it over with a laugh. “We’ll just have to share.”

You unscrewed the cork and took a sip of the cold juice while Oscar started unpacking the vast array of food. He’d really gone all out, picking out your favourite pastries and fruits and something about that made you very emotional. Oscar glanced up at you, stopping his movements when he noticed the shine in your eyes and your wobbly lip.

“Baby.” His voice made you look up, and he laughed when you smiled tearfully at him, like you were trying to reassure him that your tears were out of joy rather than sadness. Oscar cupped your cheek and pulled you forward for a kiss. “Why have you gone all teary on me?”

You gave a heavy sigh that made Oscar’s heart clench painfully in adoration. “It’s just… You’re so sweet to me. I love this. I love you.”

Oscar watched you scoot closer, pressing his face into your hair when you cuddled into his side. You smelled like flowers and he couldn’t resist burying his nose in your hair because that scent was absolutely intoxicating. It was everywhere at home. On the pillows, towels and blankets and it always pulled the same reaction from him.

Sometimes you’d pack his suitcases for him, not because he asked or demanded you, but because your heart was just that kind and you’d spritz your perfume on his clothes because you knew that he secretly loved that. And he did. Nothing made him feel more homesick and loved than when he flipped the lid of his suitcase open and was hit with your scent.

“I guess you’re gonna love me even more.” He said and that prompted you to look up, pulling away from his embrace slightly. The curious tilt of your eyebrows made him smile. “Here.”

He handed you the small container of washed and fresh strawberries before turning to his bag to rifle through it. You gave a laugh of surprise when you realised what he was pulling out, eyeing the paintbrushes and tubes of colours.

You couldn’t believe that he remembered. The one time you’d tilted your phone towards him when you were sat on the sofa, showing him a picture of a random couple painting during a date. It was an offhand comment from you, something along the lines of ‘I’d love to do that’ that Oscar had apparently stored away in his mind.

“I suck at painting.” He said and it made you laugh. “But I thought this could be fun.”

“Oscar!” You didn’t even know what to say, staring wide eyed and speechless at the things sitting between you before moving your eyes up to him.

His cheeks went pink, bashful smile stretching his lips and you got up on your knees to smack a kiss to his mouth that he laughed into.

“We’re going to outshine Monet.” You said determinedly, sitting back down and grabbing your canvas.

The evening went on as the both of you painted, not very well but it was fun and prompted several fits of laughter from the both of you as you took occasional peeks at your paintings.

One too many gulps of fizzy champagne later and sandwiches eaten, the both of you found yourselves almost done with your pieces. You were sitting cross legged, face pinched in concentration and Oscar couldn’t help but sneak a picture on his phone; finding the sight of you all too endearing. You had a little paint on your cheek that you weren’t aware of, lips slightly pursed and Oscar couldn’t for the life of him stop staring at your exposed thighs. Your dress had ridden up, giving him an amazing view of your legs and he had to physically flex his fingers to keep from grabbing at them.

He cleared his throat and looked away, glancing up at the sky squinting. The sun had found its way behind some very dark clouds and he silently cursed the weather app for giving him false information because it looked like it was definitely going to rain.

“I think it’s gonna rain.” He said, absentmindedly voicing his thoughts out loud and you looked at him before glancing up at the sky.

You scrunched your nose before your face transformed into a smile that made your boyfriend’s heart skip. He squirmed.

“That’s okay.” You said slowly and put down your brush. “Because I... Am done.”

“Let’s see it then.” He grinned at the way you grabbed both sides of your canvas, revealing the other side slowly.

The splash of colour was pretty and it wasn’t hard to make out what it was supposed to be. A beach with a colourful sky consisting of pink, orange and even subtle red. Oscar nodded his head, visibly impressed and you smiled.

“That’s gorgeous, I don’t even wanna show mine now.” He said and you frowned.

“But I wanna see it.” You said, pushing yourself up a little to strain your neck.

But Oscar was quick to hide his canvas close to his chest which made you pout.

“No, it’s hideous.” He laughed and you rolled your eyes.

“Oscar!” You whined and it almost made him cave.

You realised fairly quickly that he wasn’t going to concede, so you put your canvas down and crawled on all fours over to his side of the blanket. He leaned back, smiling at your giggles until you were on top of him; The awkward angle sending you both into a fit of laughter.

“Is that a duck?” Your voice went high with laughter and Oscar sucked his cheeks into his mouth when you grabbed his canvas and took a look at it. “It’s so cute!”

“It’s —“

“It even has lashes!” You squinted your eyes at it and Oscar frowned.

“That’s eyebrows.” He said and you looked up at him, an apologetic smile playing on your lips.

“Oh.” You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth in a poor attempt to hide your laughter, but Oscar raised his eyebrows in mock insult and it made it harder. “Sorry.”

He wanted to open his mouth and feign insult, but the way you were chewing on your lip made it very hard to concentrate and he found himself getting distracted easier than he’d like to admit. The shine your saliva left had him craning his neck to catch your lips in a kiss, revelling in your surprised moan that you breathed into his mouth.

You tasted of fizzy champagne and sweet fruits, Oscar licking into your mouth and it made you squirm in his lap. He kissed you until you were out of breath, grabbing your sides and rolling the both of you around until he was straddling you. The squeal that left your lips made you both laugh and it didn’t stop when he struggled to get his canvas out from between your chests to throw it to the side. You blinked up at him slowly, and it was like he was stuck in a trance.

The first drop on your forehead was almost comical, and you thought that maybe he’d accidentally drooled on you for a second. But Oscar glanced up with a frown, just in time for the skies to open up and begin drizzling. Luckily, you found yourselves under the tree and that’s what made it so easy to dismiss the rain, grabbing the collar of Oscar’s shirt to redirect his gaze back to you.

“We’re gonna get si—“ He was interrupted by your lips, a small mmpfh being punched out of his chest and you were quick to swallow the noise, kissing him until the pink in his cheeks deepened to a pretty shade of red and his lips were kissed raw.

You loved the way he looked after a make out, with the dark eyes and the smatter of colour on his cheeks. It drove you further to mess his hair up and have him grinding down into you.

He wasn’t doing it yet, hips carefully held above you so he wouldn’t crush you with his weight but you wanted it. Craved it, even.

The rush of water coming down from the sky turned the air damp, clamming your already heated skin up and making it sticky. You let your thighs fall open in an obvious invitation, one that Oscar was too happy to accept when he slotted his hips against yours; Successfully pressing your crotches together. The weight of him was delicious, sparking something hot in your body that had you wrapping your legs around him to keep him close. You felt your foot knock something over, but you were too preoccupied with the way his lips were wandering to actually care.

He kissed wetly down your jaw, sucking insistently on your sensitive skin under your earlobe. You keened, hips jumping up into his in an attempt to grind your centre against him and Oscar quickly met you halfway, the hard bulge of him setting fireworks off in your chest.

“Oscar, please.” You gasped when he bit your throat. He hummed in acknowledgement, low and breathless. “Need more.”

He detached his lips from your neck, glancing around as if he was keeping an eye out for someone and you took that moment to take in his face. The pout of his lips and the width of his neck that you were dying to mark up with your mouth. The sight of it always did things to you, so much so that there had been several occasions where you went a little overboard and sent him on his way to the paddock with a bruised up neck and a blush dancing on his cheeks. He never really protested though, so you didn’t stop.

“Out here?” He asked, looking down at you and you nodded shyly. “Really?”

You turned your head to stare off into the distance, thinking that there was no way anyone was frolicking anywhere near you in this weather. And if there were people around, it was almost impassible to spot the two of you with the way the rain was coming down incredibly heavy. It was hard to see past a few metres and the grass was high enough to hide you both from any prying eyes.

In the meantime your thoughts had calculated the very low risk of being caught, Oscar had begun his ascent up your thighs with his hands, pulling the hem of your dress up in the process. His eyes were fastened on you, wanting to catch every micro expression on your face the higher he went up.

Your mouth opened in a quiet exhale when his hands touched your clothed pussy, thighs trembling when his finger ran over the nub of your clit. Oscar’s heart was beating fast, emotion and adoration gripping his heart in a vice when you looked up at him through your lashes.

You hadn’t dated for that long, but he’d memorised every single expression on your face, along with their meaning. He prided himself in how well he could read you, and he felt just a little smug whenever you brought it up. There was always a bit of wonder in your eyes and surprise in your voice when he said something that you didn’t expect him to remember. Like you never had anyone in your life to pay close attention to you, or even care to and it made him sad because how could they not?

You had somehow managed to become his entire world in the span of a few months and he intended to keep you happier than the average person.

That’s why he didn’t wait to pull your panties to the side when you whispered a small plea, sounding a lot like please, fully zoned in on making you feel as good as possible.

“Oh, shit.” You swore and Oscar hid a smile by hanging his head to stare between your legs instead.

You never swore in daily conversation, but boy, did you turn into a sailor when he was between your thighs.

“My pretty girl.” He complimented you, voice quiet but loud enough to overpower the sound of the downpour.

You smiled shakily, lip wobbling in pure pleasure when he swiped his fingers between your slick folds to wet them. Oscar circled your clit a few times, pulling some moans from your lips and he kept his eyes on your shiny bottom lip as he located your hole and pushed a finger inside.

He groaned around an exhale at the tightness of you, your warmth enveloping his fingers beautifully as he tested the waters. He must’ve deemed you ready for a second digit, sliding it inside alongside the first and watching you squirm atop the blanket.

“God, your fingers.” You bit your lip when his thumb joined in, rubbing your clit just the way he knew you liked it. “Like magic.”

It took everything in your boyfriend not to smile proudly and puff his chest out. It always made him preen when you complimented him while you were lost in the moment, and he knew that a big part of him needed and wanted your validation.

Oscar listened to your whines and moans, bending his head down to press small and fleeting kisses to your clammy skin. Your chest was heaving as he kissed you between your breasts, feeling his own breathing go heavy when you arched your back and stuck your chest out. Like you wanted him to touch you there. And really, who was he to say no when you begged so prettily?

The neckline of your dress was thankfully very stretchy, allowing your boyfriend to pull the material down enough to expose your chest to his eyes. You weren't wearing a bra, something he’d noticed on the car ride over here when the AC had been blasting cold air and tightened your nipples. He hadn’t said anything then but his cock had stirred in interest at the sight.

He moaned almost depravingly when he got his mouth around your nipple, licking and sucking on it until your walls were clenching around his moving fingers. He gave the other the same treatment before deciding that he’d waited enough, moving down your body while his other unoccupied hand bunched up the fabric of your dress over your stomach.

You were dripping wet, slick sliding down his hands and presumably messing up the blanket underneath you and Oscar had to bring a hand down to squeeze around his cock. The sight of you under him with your legs bent and wide open was something he’d take a mental photo of, storing it away in his mind for his loneliest nights.

“Fuck,” he swore, shuffling further down so he was face to face with where you needed him the most. He gave you a sucking kiss on the inside of your thigh and you whined. “You smell so good, baby.”

That had you squirming self-consciously, bringing your hands up to hide your face. Your mouth opened against the palm of your hand when you felt his tongue swipe between his fingers messily, like he was tasting you and you bit down on your hand to stop the inevitable moan from tumbling out.

“Oscar.” You pleaded with him and the next swipe came almost immediately, like he didn’t want to keep you waiting.

Oscar was as talented as they came, when it came to his hands and how to use them. The way the both of you had learned each other’s bodies was admirable, and Oscar had really learnt it well. He knew what made you tick, what made you throw your head back and scream out blasphemous words that had him smirking.

It wasn’t a surprise, really, when he took you to newer highs in record speed. With the aid of his fingers and mouth, he managed to pull out your first orgasm that sent your head spinning right into the gutter. Your thighs closed around his head, turning your head to the sky as you cried out your climax.

Oscar withdrew his fingers from the tight grip of your pussy, but he didn’t stop licking gently as you slowly came down from your high. He kept his eyes on you, enjoying the tremble in your legs around him and the occasional hitch in your breath.

He couldn’t see your face, it being turned to the sky still, but he watched your throat bob before finally looking down at him with a dazed look on your face. Your body jerked when he tongued across your clit, hand shooting down to his hair to grip it loosely.

“That was…” You trailed off, still out of breath and tongue thick in your mouth but Oscar grinned like you’d handed him the stars and moon.

“Another one?” He asked, almost hopefully and you gave him a look of slight disbelief.

You laughed with a nod, trying not to flush warmth when he tilted his head back to wipe at his wet mouth with the back of his hand. He looked so casual, but the sight of it made your entire being turn fire hot. Even more so when he pressed a few absentminded kisses to your thighs before going right back in, working you with his tongue until the initial sensitivity faded off to the background and brought forth a second wave of pleasure.

Oscar’s jaw was starting to ache, but you were grasping at his hair and scratching his scalp so pleasantly that he couldn’t even bring himself to care. He needed you to come again, needed to taste more of you because he couldn’t have enough. So, he upped the ante and focused on your clit, laving his tongue over it and pursing his lips to suck it into his mouth.

He was almost disappointed when your moans started turning high pitched, thighs clenching tightly around his head because he wanted it to go on for longer. But he couldn’t be too sad about it when you sounded the way you did, so breathless and lost to the world.

There was no doubt that anyone could’ve heard you if it weren’t for the rain, the way you were moaning and cursing. It made Oscar smug, but also so fucking hard that he had to reach his hand down to fish himself out of his pants, almost moaning into your pussy when his hand closed around his length.

It really wouldn’t take long for him to come, already feeling sensitive to his touch as he jacked himself off.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You cussed suddenly in one drawn out breath, hips arching up into his mouth as you groaned out your second orgasm.

The hitches in your breaths as the orgasm rolled through you made Oscar squeeze himself and it was when you pushed his head off of you with your hand that he hurriedly sat up, getting so dizzy from the sudden movement that he almost went teetering to the side. You hadn’t realised that he was taking care of himself until you caught sight of his hand, peering at him through hooded eyelids as he groaned low in his throat and aimed between your legs, coming with a jump of his hips.

It made you clench around nothing. The sight of him throwing his head back, hair damp and floppy as he sucked air into his lungs. He gave off a full body shiver, sitting back on his heels with a deep sigh.

“That was new.” You said around a smile, making him look down at you. His cheeks went pink, smile a little shy and you grabbed his arm to pull him down so you could kiss his smiling mouth.

“I hope that was okay.” He whispered against your lips and you gave him a slow nod.

“More than okay.” You glanced down between you two, pulling a slight grimace at your soiled underwear. “Need to get those off though.”

Oscar laughed and sat up, reaching for tissues while you did your best to pull your panties down your legs. You let them drop to the side, cheeks warm at the sight of both your spend on the wet material.

“Do you reckon it’s better to wait the rain out?” Oscar asked casually as he pried your legs apart, gently cleaning you up.

You glanced around, noting that while it was still raining, it seemed to let up quite a bit and you figured that it wouldn’t take long before it ceased completely. It was a trek back to the car and you honestly didn’t think that your legs could work for the next half hour anyway.

Oscar threw away the soiled tissues and grabbed your legs, pulling you closer to him until you got the memo and moved to snuggle up into his side. He pulled you in, burying his face in your hair with a sated sigh.

“Probably best to wait it out.” You replied belatedly. “I don’t mind sitting here with you.”

Oscar hid a smile in your hair.

“Me neither.” He murmured against your temple.

He’d sit around here forever if it meant spending time with you.

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x female reader #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri imagine #f1 #f1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 smut

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leclercss · 3 months

Text

Paris, je t'aime (Charles Leclerc),

a Tainted Love sequel

Masterlist

plot: it's almost three years since your tumultuous relationships with Lewis and Charles came crashing down. but you find your self in a new city with new beginnings and new ways to fuck up your love life. that's no thanks to a cheeky frenchman who's set you up on a double date with someone oh so familiar.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating and some swearing

authors note: our amours are back. hope you enjoy this sequel featuring our fave Monegasque.

word count: 4.3k

taglist: @toppersjeep @janeholt3, @princess-siba, @nichmeddar

"Pierre, I just don't get why you can't show me his picture?" you whine, throwing your head back against the sofa. Clearly you need to work on your negotiation (or blackmailing) skills because you've not made a dent in changing Pierre's mind.

"Because, [Y/N], I don't trust you this time. I've seen your love life, if you can even call it that, in the last six months. It's nothing short of embarrassing and from what I've witnessed, I know who the problem is," Pierre retorts.

You snort at Pierre's response. This man doesn't given a fuck and you do your best to not throw a cushion at his face.

"And what do you mean by that?"

"What I mean, [Y/N], is I've seen you make out with random guys in clubs, ugly ones by the way, who you either sleep with or have to spend the rest of the night hiding from. You're also useless when it comes to Tinder. You either fall in love with their pictures, match, have about a two minute conversation with and then ghost them entirely or you spend five minutes analysing everything that is wrong with them."

"That's no true," you growl.

It's Pierre's turn to snort. "Oh, it is! And if you do end up chatting to someone half normal, you just get drunk and show them pictures of your ex husband's dog".

This time you couldn't control yourself and so you launch the cushion at Pierre's head. Your aim clearly needs some work as you miss his head by about half a meter and hit the lamp above his head, causing it to hit against the wall.

"Right, you two! That's enough," you hear a voice yell from the other room. You look over your shoulder and see Pierre's girlfriend, Kika, storm into the living room.

"He started it," you cry out before shooting Pierre some daggers which earns a kick from Pierre.

"I don't care who started it. I care about ending it," Kika growls as she throws herself onto the sofa opposite then one you and Pierre are occupying.

Silence falls onto the living room but only for a few moments before you look at Pierre again, continuing your previous argument. "Pierre, I don't get why you can't just tell me anything about him".

Pierre, aware of the daggers he's receiving from Kika, simply rolls his eyes.

"Ugh, fine! Kika, can you please talk to Pierre?" you plead as you turn your attention to Kika.

She sighs at you, defeated. "I've tried, [Y/N]," she replies. "But Pierre has made some good points".

You narrow your eyes at her, "Traitor."

Pierre can't keep contain himself as he erupts into a fit of laughter. Annoyed, you return the kick that he gave you earlier which results in a loud cry from Pierre.

"Hey! We're the ones trying to help you out here," Pierre laughs as he rubs his shin, tender from your kick.

"I didn't ask for your help," you grunt, throwing you arms across your chest in frustration. You catch Kika in the corner of your eye trying to hold back a smirk.

"Spit it out, Kika!"

Both Pierre and Kika look at each other, exchanging a little chuckle, before you friend gives you a polite reality check.

"Well, we're in Paris, the city of love. And well, your love life since we've met you has been, putting it nicely, tragic. So Pierre and I thought that as your friends in this new city, we would take the trouble out of your hands for you when it comes to love," she politely tells you.

Pierre snorts again, "Nah, Kika. It's called an intervention".

You look around you to find any other cushions you can throw at Pierre but realise that you've thrown all cushions within reaching distance at his head already.

The truth is that, as hurtful as it may be, Pierre and Kika were right. Your love life since moving to Paris ten months ago has been pathetic. In fact, it's been pathetic for the last three years, ever since you had ended both your marriage to Lewis and your relationship with Charles.

Your intention at the time was to only end your relationship with one of them and in your heart and mind, you were going to end your marriage with Lewis. And that was what you did. Despite his last ditch attempts of rekindling your marriage and relationship, you had declined Lewis' offer to leave your life in London behind and join him in New York City.

An offer like that earlier on in your marriage would have been tempting but after yourself and Lewis both agreed to open up your marriage, and before all of the walls came tumbling down, you realised that whenever Lewis was close to losing you he would pull out all of the stops to become the husband you wanted and needed.

He'd done it throughout your relationship. Once Lewis smelt danger or felt vulnerable, he loved bombed you to the point where you fell in love with him all over again. Telling you everything you needed to hear and throwing you grand gestures like a proposal, a new puppy, extravagant gifts, monogamy (looking back, that one was laughable) and finally offering you a new life in the bright lights of New York City. And when he was sure that you wouldn't leave him and were fully committed, he'd go back to the Lewis of old - doing as he pleased without any questions or consequences. That was until Lewis pushed you too far, he'd tested you one too many times during your "open marriage" and pushed you into the arms of another man, Charles.

In a totally unplanned and spontaneous night out, you had met Charles and the two of you had clicked instantly. Charles was the only person that ever led you to doubt your marriage and relationship with Lewis. You developed a relationship which led to you falling in love with one another. It was very real and very serious. He gave you the love and fulfilment you had long yearned for. He was worth leaving your husband for and you were so ready to do that.

That was until Lewis' offer of moving to New York came about. You didn't want to move to New York. It may have been a dream once but not in those circumstances. Not after you'd already taken off your wedding and engagement rings and told your husband you were ready to move on in your life. This was Lewis' next step in life, not yours.

You were free from your marriage and you could continue your relationship with Charles but something weird happened. It all fell apart one night when you went to see Charles at his flat after you had told Lewis that you wouldn't be moving with him. Your intentions were to tell Charles that you were all his and you could finally start to build a real life together.

However, that’s not what happened. You couldn’t get the idea of leaving London with Lewis out of your head. Even in separation the man couldn’t leave you alone. He was in your mind as you spoke to Charles, kissed Charles and even when you made love to Charles that night. Something deep down was telling you that instantly starting a life with Charles just days after separating from your husband of five years wasn’t the right thing for you.

You needed time to mourn your marriage but also to figure out who you really were. You had been in a relationship since you had moved to London at 21 and had never gotten to explore adulthood and your twenties on your own. And just maybe, you needed a little bit of time to be you.

But that’s not how it went down, or how you had tried to communicate it to Charles. After you and Charles had finished having sex, Charles started a conversation about your relationship and mentioned the possibility of moving in together. You guys were in love and it made sense.

But you freaked out, confessing to Charles that Lewis was going to New York and had asked for you to go with him. And when Charles had asked you want you had wanted to do, you froze.

Fuck, why did you have to freeze? You already told Lewis no but why couldn’t you tell Charles that?

You realised over time it was because that you were unable to tell Charles that while you had said no to Lewis, you needed to be on your own for a while. And how could you tell Charles that after he had made love to you and confessed his loved to you once more?

And so when you struggled to find your words, Charles took it as a yes and that in fact you were moving to New York, leaving him behind. You were ending things with him to be with a husband who treated you poorly.

And when you did begin to find your words, Charles didn’t believe you despite the fact that you had already removing your wedding ring. He was fed up. He’d been humiliated by you and Lewis to one too many times and so he asked for you to leave.

You obeyed and left his apartment. Too hurt and stubborn to speak to one another, you both waited for the other to reach out. A text, a call, something to let the other know that this was stupid and you wanted to be together. But that text, call or something never came. And so you and Charles never spoke again.

Not long after you and Charles ended things, a position in work opened up in Singapore. With nothing meaningful thing you to London any more aside from your best friend Whitney, you applied for it. You were successful and so within a few moments you moved to Singapore for two years.

You finally got your new life and spent the last of your twenties in an amazing city. You even had a few casual, no strings attached situationships. But as you turned 30, you began to miss being closer to home and so you moved back to Europe, this time settling in Paris.

You enjoyed the city and while Paris was famed for being romantic and the city of love, your experience so far had been anything but. Which is why you were here now, letting your new friends Pierre and Kika salvage whatever love life they could manage for you.

You had grown close to them over the past few months. You had met Kika in work and over time she took you under her wing. You hadn’t told Pierre and Kika everything though about your life in London. They knew you were divorced from Lewis and that you had an open marriage got wrong but you had never told them about Charles. How could you even begin to explain that you had fallen in love with someone that wasn’t your husband and then, when you finally had the chance to be with him, you chickened?

No, you couldn’t tell them about Charles. It still hurt you when you thought about how things ended between you. With a heavy heart, you still valued your relationship with him and looked back with fond memories. Charles was still very special and important to you. And so, that was one story you wanted to keep close to your heart.

“Can you just give me a name? Not even a name, just the first letter of his name?”

You were back to whining at Pierre and Kika, begging for any details about this mystery guy that they’d set you up on a blind date with. So far, the only details you had gotten out of them was that you were going out with a guy this Friday night.

As Kika went to open her mouth, feeling a little sorry for you, Pierre flashed her a look.

“Kika, don’t! I know what you girls are like. One sniff of a detail about a man and you girls give the FBI a run of their money, Pierre cried. “No, you’re just going to have to shut up and wait until Friday to meet him”.

Finally accepting defeat, you sighed and rested back against the sofa. Pierre wasn’t giving in this time. With last fight in you, you looked over at Pierre and mumbled,

“Did I ever tell you how much I hated you, Pierre?”

“Yes, everyday”.

It was finally Friday and you still didn’t have a single detail or idea about the man you were meeting for dinner. For all you knew, he could be Timothée Chalamet. Pierre and Kika had given you nothing.

Despite withholding all information about this guy, the did feel bad for you and so had brought you out for a drink before you date to calm the nerves. Just one drink, Pierre had said, they didn’t need you showing pictures of Roscoe to another innocent soul.

As you sat in a Parisian bar, you began to bounce your legs up and down, anything to calm you while you waited for 8pm to arrive. With a quick look at your phone, you saw that it was only 6:30pm.

Shit!

You were going to need more than one drink if you were going to get through the next ninety minutes. You were halfway through your first Aperol Spritz but you’d need about two more if you were going to be any fun tonight.

“Can you stop bouncing your legs please? It’s incredibly annoying,” Pierre spat.

Kika, being the peace maker gently placed a hand on your knee to prevent you from causing any annoyance or, in the way Pierre was carrying on, preventing you from causing an earthquake.

You loved Pierre, but the two of you behaved like siblings much to Kika’s despair. The two of you constantly bickered and found ways to annoy one another but did deep the two of you were close and had a solid friendship.

“Children, please,” Kika groaned. As she took a quick look at her phone, you took the opportunity to flash Pierre the middle finger.

Another fifteen minutes had passed and you weren’t any less nervous about this date. While you had been on dates before, it was your first blind date. And while you had faith in Pierre and Kika’s taste, you wouldn’t put it past Pierre to drag Quasimodo down from the Notre Dame and bring him to a Parisian restaurant for your date.

Feeling bad that he’d been taunting you for days, Pierre felt like it was time to give you some reassurance.

“I don’t know why you’re so worried, [Y/N]. Despite being a pain in my side, you’re catch. You’re a good looking girl. You’re funny and smart. You’ve lived in four countries, I mean there’s so much to talk about,” Pierre says as he places a second Aperol Spritz in front of you.

You flash him a grateful smile.

“He’s right! You’ve got so much going for you, [Y/N]. Plus your boobs look great in that dress,” Kika added. “And he already things you’re hot”.

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. “Wait, what? He’s already seen a picture of me”.

Pierre flashes Kika a look of what the fuck did you say that before accepting a small defeat.

“Yes, he’s seen a picture of you. And before you tell me how that’s not fair, he’s not a freak like you two”.

“But Pierre,” you begin but Pierre wags his finger out you.

“No. I’m not hearing it,” Pierre says.

Great, out of the four of you, you’re the most clueless about your date.

“Fine, if you won’t tell me anything about him, can you at least tell me what he said when you showed him a picture about me?”

Exhaling, Pierre nodded. “Sure, he pretty much grabbed my phone out of my hand when I showed him your picture. He seemed pretty into it, wanted to see more photos. Asked how we knew you, wanted to know as much about you as he could.”

“Oh, and you told him everything right?”

Pierre chuckled. “Not everything. Didn’t tell him that you were divorced by 30. I thought that it’d be funny for you to do that on your own”.

You thanked Kika as she hit Pierre for you.

“Sorry. That was harsh. He was interested in what happened in your last relationship though. If it’s any consolation, I’ve had to intervene in his love life too. It’s almost as tragic as yours,” Pierre continued.

You frowned at him. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well,” Pierre hesitated. “He was in a relationship about three years ago. Things were pretty serious but suddenly things changed. There were talking about moving in together but one day, she told him she was thinking about getting back with her ex. They had an argument and didn’t speak after that. The last he heard through a friend was that she had left the country to start a new life.”

A weird feeling of deja vu suddenly hits you. The story sounding very similar to your own. Except that you didn’t get with Lewis. You pause before asking, “Did she get back with the ex?”

“I think so,” Pierre answered. “Either that or she was a snake who used her ex as an excuse to end things with Charles”.

You feel your blood run cold as Pierre accidentally drops the name of your date.

“What did you say his name was?” you ask, making sure you’re not hearing things.

“Merde, I can’t believe I dropped his name at the last hurdle,” Pierre groaned, burying his head in his hands.

You mind was racing a million miles an hour. Surely this was just a coincidence. There was thousands of Charles' in Paris, let alone in France. And what were the odds of Pierre knowing your Charles? And a Charles who had the same break up story as your Charles? No, this couldn’t be it.

“Are you okay, [Y/N]? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Kika asks.

You force a light-hearted laugh before taking a sip of your Aperol Spritz.

“I’m all good, thanks. Just worried that Pierre is going to go into a downward spiral now that his plan of keeping this Charles a secret has failed,” you joked. But deep inside you were freaking out.

What if this was Charles? You weren’t sure if you were ready to see him. Even though it had been three years since things had ended, it still hurt you to think about your relationship. Even three years later, you knew you still loved him. But what about Charles? Did he still love you? Or did he hate you? According to Pierre’s story, he still seemed bitter about this break up with his ex.

“It’s a good thing you don’t have time to go through Instagram and find him then, you’ve got to leave for your date in fifteen minutes,” Pierre reminds you.

Shit.

This was really happening wasn’t it? You were going to see Charles finally after all these years.

Or maybe you were just being dramatic, maybe this was just a weird, fucked up coincidence.

“Whatever you do, [Y/N], just don’t break my Charlie’s heart, eh? He’s had to fuck his way through dozens of women just to get over her,” Pierre teases.

“Pierre,” Kika squeals, “You can’t tell her that before she meets him”.

But Pierre’s comment goes over your head. Charles’ fucking lots of girls was the least of your worries.

You’re the first one to arrive and the wait is excruciating. You have a look at your phone 8:03pm.

Fuck, it’s been the longest three minutes of your life.

You’re not sure if you want to look at the entrance and see who walks through the door or if you want to keep your head down and pray for the ground to swallow you whole. Right now, the second option feels preferable.

As another minute passes, your phone lights up. It’s a text from Pierre into your group chat with Kika:

Bonne chance! And if we don’t hear back from you by the end of the night, either my friend is a serial killer or you’re 🍆👉🏼🕳️💦

As disgusting as Pierre’s text is, you’re grateful that your mind is occupied for a few moments as you text a:

You’re disgusting 🤮

Once you send your text, you place your phone back down on the table and put your head in your hands, praying for a miracle.

“I’ve thought about what it would be like if I ever saw you again,” it’s a familiar voice coming from behind you, “But I’d never have guessed that it would be the two of us being set up on a blind date”.

Your head shoots up and you turn to the direction of the voice. It’s him. It’s Charles. Your Charles.

“I…,” you begin but that’s all you’ve got. You’re just sitting there with your mouth agape.

Charles smiles at you, he’s much more composed and prepared than you are. How could he not be when he knew long ago that it was you that Pierre was trying to set him up with? He’s probably had days if not weeks to prepare for seeing you in person again.

He takes a few steps towards you before taking your hand in his. Just like the last time, he takes your left one, moving it towards him. He smiles at your hand.

No rings this time around, he thinks to himself before placing a delicate kiss onto your skin.

You feel your cheeks redden at his touch and whatever feelings you’ve harboured for him over the last three years all come rushing back. His touch still feels the same, delicate but purposeful.

He gently lets go of your hand before taking the seat opposite you. You’re still shell shocked that he’s actually here, which is why you can only muster up a, “Hi.”

Charles laughs to himself a little.

“Hi, [Y/N]”.

It falls silent between the two of you. Charles gives you the space to figure out what the fuck is going on while he flicks through the menu for a drink.

You take the opportunity to take in his appearance. He looks good, if not better than the last time. His face is slightly more mature and he’s let his moustache and stubble grow a little longer this time. He’s a little bulkier, clearly he’s been lifting more weights in the gym. His hair looks the same, long and silky. And he’s sporting a tan thanks to the French summer. He dresses better than he did before.

Charles smiles as he’s reading the menu, clearly aware that your eyes are fixated on him, glancing over every inch of his body that you can see. He looks up from the menu and looks at you, still smiling. He’s confident in himself, he knows he’s in control and he seems to be enjoying it.

Embarrassed that you’ve been caught staring, you clear throat and decide to speak your first words of the date.

“Ho-How are you? You look good,” you manage to squeak out.

Fuck, that was embarrassing. Is that it?

Charles chuckles to himself once more before it’s his turn to eye you up. His eyes take in your loose curls that are falling delicately over your shoulders. Your face looks the same, no difference to the last time he saw you. Still so beautiful. You’re rocking a summer tan too. And as for your body, well your breasts look incredible in that peach fitted dress. You didn’t look good, you looked phenomenal.

“I’m good. And you? You’re looking good too but I’m not surprised,” Charles replies.

You blush a little at his comment. “Yeah, I’m fine”.

Taking one last look at the menu, Charles closes it before looking at you. Giving you his full attention.

“How long ago did you find out that it was me you were going on a date with?”

“Erm, about- about thirty minutes ago,” you stutter.

Charles shakes his head. “Fucking Pierre,” he mutters to himself.

“How- how long ago did you know it was me?” you ask ever so quietly.

“About three weeks ago,” he watches for your reaction before continuing, “Look, I don’t want to do this here. And I’m sure you don’t want to do this here either. Let’s go back to my place”.

Without even thinking, you nod. And as Charles stands up from his chair, he puts his hand out for you to hold. His touch is so warm. He smiles at you softly before leading you out of the restaurant into the warm Summer evening.

He’s still holding your hand as he waves down a taxi. As you climb inside, Charles’ hand finds his way to your thigh as he gives his address to the taxi driver.

You can’t help but look at his hand on your thigh. It all feels so surreal. He’s being so nice to you after everything that happened and he’s going against everything that Pierre had said about Charles being hurt by an ex. But maybe Charles had changed, maybe he didn’t hate you that much after how things ended between the two of you.

As your drive through the Parisian streets, Charles’ hand remains on you thigh. And it’s Charles who breaks the silence between you.

“How was New York?”

Your head immediately turns towards him. His expression impossible to read. Confused, you answer him.

“Charles, I never went to New York”.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you

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soy-garbage · 6 months

Text

JJK SMAU RECOMMENDATIONS !

Hi everyone!! i always have trouble finding jjk smaus so if you're like me then this list is for you! all the credit for the works goes to the amazing authors who made them, and if you wrote any of these and are seeing my post: MWUA!! Thank you for the great content!!! ≧◡≦<33 (part 2 here!)

(Completed: ✿)

(On going: ★)

･:*SMAU SERIES! :

Is There Someone Else / Megumi Fushiguro x Reader ✿

･:*synopsis// you didn’t care that you were getting cheated on. truthfully you believed you deserved it, you would go as far to call it karma even; you reap what you sow. but the same can’t be said for your best friend. So if you weren’t going to break up with your boyfriend for your sake? well then you’d break up with him for your best friend’s sake.

Rewrite it / Gojo Satoru x Reader ✿

･:*synopsis// Gojo had never once stopped being completely in love with you, and he regrets his actions to this day—constantly thinking about how he could rewrite it if he could. but now that you’re back in his life, the question is: can he?

The Stars Align / Nanami Kento x Reader ✿

･:*synopsis// nanami has never cared for soulmates. the idea was never appealing to him, and he thinks it’s complete bullshit once he meets you because how could someone as perfect as you not be his soulmate?

TAKE A CHANCE WITH ME / Gojo Satoru x Reader ★

･:*synopsis// wherein you spend your every waking day talking to a guy who you just met on a random dating app.

DAYLIGHT / Nanami Kento x Reader ★

･:*synopsis// nanami thought he did what was best for y/n when he broke up with her, but he could not have been more wrong. he isn’t making it better when he accidentally sends her a follow request and doesn’t even realize.

THE ONE AND ONLY CUPID / Megumi Fushiguro x Reader ✿

･:*synopsis// Itadori yuji is behind the account “the one and only cupid” where others in tokyo can anonymously ship two people they think should get together. what happens when you’re suddenly shipped with fushiguro megumi whom you’ve never talked to before and why do you all of a sudden have to see him in the school hallway every single day?

it’s a match! / Gojo Satoru x Reader ✿

･:*synopsis// in which you match with a horny gojo on tinder

Apple cider / Megumi Fushiguro x Reader ✿

･:*synopsis// you and megumi have known each other since jr. high. eventually, things get out of hand and you end up falling out. you meet again in tokyo jujutsu high only to remember old issues and realize new feelings.

･:*SMAU ACCOUNTS! :

@satoruoo

@bbunisre

@inmaki

@tahiti-island-dream

That's it!! i'll probably be updating it later but so far these are the ones i found!! check out all the accounts i tagged! i love their content and i'm sure you will too<3

thank you for reading ♡( •ॢ◡-ॢ)✧˖° ♡

(@romantichomicide95 here's some more recommendations!)

( All the credit of the smaus goes to the accounts who made them! : @tamakigf @piichuu @satorunii @todayisawthewhxlewxrld )

#jjk smau #gojo satoru x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #gojo satoru #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smau #gojo satoru smau #smau #jujutsu kaisen #jjk texts

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yorshie · 1 month

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Saw this post @fuckedupcleric and I was struck by the writing bug when I saw your tags hehe

Bayverse x GN reader (uses of the word babygirl as a nickname) (set in 2023 turtles are 24-25) SFW

Leo

Is drinking tea when he hears your dramatic sigh and exclamation, and it brings a smirk to his mouth.

“How would you like to be kissed?” He asks, demeanor calm, moves telegraphed as he sets his tea down and turns to watch you fluster over an answer.

Unable to give him one, he tilts his head before moving into your space, caging you against the sagging cushions and blocking your legs with his plastron. “How do you want to be kissed?” He asks again

When he gets nothing but wide eyed blinks and a deepening blush, he continues:

“Do you want sweet kisses like the petals of flowers brushing against your cheeks?” He leans in closer, breath brushing against skin starting to grow sensitive from imagined touches “Do you want a tender friend to sip from the honeyed nectar of your lips?” His breath is now a ghost upon your mouth, his words breathed in and taken into your lungs. Finally, he whispers, “do you want a desperate lover to coil his tongue against your own, to seek the treasure of your sounds of pleasure at his touch?”

He waits, a moment, a heartbeat, for your eyes to flutter shut, before he pushes up off the couch, taking the fevered fantasy tinged blue and the scent of tea with him.

“Something to contemplate.” He says with a devious smile, grabbing his tea and heading out of the living room.

Raph

He’s wiping the sweat from his workout off his arms and face when he hears your pathetic whine, and he immediately looks in your direction incredulously. Babygirl wants a kiss?

You don’t realize the trouble you’re in until his hand is under your jaw and he’s tipped your head back. You have a moment to think Red before he’s licking into your mouth and swallowing any sound you might have made at the abrupt attention.

When he’s got you thoroughly stupid from lack of oxygen and the way he nips at your mouth whenever you move too slow to reciprocate, he finally pulls back and looks you over.

“Need more?” He asks, tone low and striking the tinder in your gut, fanning the coals there back to life. When you only blink up at him, dazed and chin slick with combined drool, he laughs and dips his head back for another taste, licking up your jaw before covering your mouth once more.

Swirls of his tongue, painting over yours, smothering your moans with the thick of his tongue before pulling more out of you with his teeth tugging on your abused bottom lip. His thumb pressing against your cheek and holding you open for his slow perusal

“You need to be kissed , and kissed often.” He told you finally when he pulled back. “Anytime you need some lovin’, sweetheart, you come find me.”

The couch protests when he pushes off it, and you stay exactly where you were left as he walks away, blinking up at the light and wondering what on god’s green earth just happened.

Angelo

Mikey pauses the game when he hears you whine from the couch behind his head, baby blues wide as he all but spins around and stares up at you.

“You want kisses, sunshine?” He asks, sounding surprised, before a grin breaks out across his face. “Don’t gotta tell me twice, come here, baby!”

Grabby hands, pulling you down the couch and taking the cushions with you, til your back is on the seat and you can’t breathe from the giggles as he blows a raspberry against your cheek before peppering your face with kisses.

When you beg him to stop, he chimes off with a “nu uh! You said you wanted kisses, and I’ve got plenty of kisses, angel.”

When you finally grab a hold of his mask tails and hold him still for a proper kiss, your jaw and cheeks hurt from laughing so much, but who needs to catch your breath when Mikey is giggling against your lips. Certainly not you, certainly not now.

His kisses taste like the cinnamon hard candies you got him just to spoil him, and he sighs happily into the affection, plastron pressing you against the cushion.

When his hand sneaks to your hip where your shirt has raised up and starts tickling you however, you can do nothing but squawk in outrage into his mouth, fighting to wiggle out from his hold while he continues to press kisses to your cheek.

Donnie

Donnie turns from his project and blinks at you in surprise when he hears you lamenting your lack of kisses, his hands still fiddling with the small project he’d brought to the living room to keep busy with while hanging out.

“You’re protesting a lack of affection?” He asked, finally, pushing his glasses up his beak with one long finger while watching you. When you nod eagerly, he sets the little project aside, turning to face you more directly.

“Are you wanting me to kiss you?” He asks, tone a little playful, golden eyes dancing down your features to land on your lips for just a moment. When you pout and nod again, he chuckles, rocking up on his knees to shuffle into your space.

The first touch is testing, a mere press of lips, before you huff loudly and his break crinkles in amusement. His head tips to the side, hands coming up to frame your jaw and hold you in place while he kisses you deeply.

You sigh into his mouth, and he pulls back, glasses fogged up and soft, dorky smile breaking out across his face. “Better?”

“I was hoping for more than one kiss.” You told him, tapping your feet along his calves. He hummed at that, his smile solidifying into something a little more mischievous. “You were lamenting not being kissed, you never specified how many kisses.”

He waited until you were sputtering mad from that point before he kissed you again, the little snort of his laugh almost lost between the press of your mouths.

#my writing snippets #TMNT bayverse #tmnt bayverse x reader #tmnt Leonardo #TMNT donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt raphael #bayverse leonardo #bayverse raphael #bayverse donatello #bayverse michelangelo #bayverse leo x reader #bayverse raph x reader #bayverse donnie x reader #bayverse mikey x reader

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heartsfourdazai · 3 months

Note

Hi, can you do Dazai, Chuuya, Kunikida and Sigma with a reader who has bad dyscalculia? Thanks and I like your writing

"it's okay, i'll help you learn."

warnings: lowercase writing, mostly fluff

guys, i figured out how to do the gradient textttt!! and i love it so much!!! request are open, feel free to request more!!!

@justcallmesakira @atlasnessie @riiwrites @silverbladexyz

dazai, chuuya, kunikida, and sigma with a dyscalculia gn reader

dazai

"can you solve this?" he asked, pointing the tip of the pencil at the multiplication question. the two of you were seated at a small table with a light shining below you. "uh.." you stared at the question, attempting to figure it out in your head. "it's okay to use your fingers." he reassured you, in hopes of calming you down.

"is it...23?"

he gave you a sad smile, rubbing your back as he spoke; "you're close, but just a little far...you forgot to-"

you whined, slamming your head onto the table into your arms as you sob softly. "oh, nonono; baby.." dazai cooed, tugging you close to give you a side hug, hushing you quietly as you continued to sob.

"whuhy is this so hahard!"

he rocks your body back and forth in his arms; "i know it's hard, but we're learning it so it won't be hard!"

"but-but i've behen getting all the questions wrong!! i fehel so stupihid!"

his heart shattered; "nono, 'donna, your not stupid..it's okay to not understand right away; that's why we learn!!" he kisses your temple in hopes of shushing you.

"but-"

"ahah!' he placed a finger in your lip, "you are so much more smarter then you know, you just have trouble understanding it then other people, and that's okay! look; we'll take a small break for now, m'kay?"

he closes the math textbook and shuffles you closer to him and kiss you on the lips; "i love you so much, don't be so stressed about this! besides, i hate math too, such a silly thing to learn. say, when are you ever going to need to know 16x34 in a hostile situation, hm?"

kunikida

"how does THAT make any sense!!" you yelled out of frustration as you swung your arms in the air and crossed them, looking away from the stupid math sheet you've been assigned as homework.

"i'm trying to show you, so you can understand WHY it doesn't make sense.."

maybe asking your boyfriend, who used to be a damn math teacher himself in the past, for help wasn't such the smartest idea.

"now, if we take the 2 and multiply it with the-"

"wait; i thought we were subbing?"

he rubbed the bridge of his nose and side loudly, to which you decided it was best to shut your mouth.

you've been stuck on the same question for the past 10 minutes, and nothing still made sense to you.

"there, did that make any sense at all?" he asked, looking back at you.

you...shrugged, not fully understanding what he had said.

he sighed, again, "y/n; i know you're a smart person you just need to try harder.."

"oh, so you think I'm stupid?"

he blinked, udderly confused..."what, no, of course not- why-"

he stopped talking as soon as he heard you sniffle...

"ih'm sorry...ihi'm just tired of this.."

he understands and just simply closes the book and took your hands into his and smiles; "then we take a break, do you want to order take out? i'm sure we can take a mini break before getting back to work, besides.." he kisses you on the lips, "maybe the break will be just what you needed."

chuuya

"when the fuck did they add letters into math??" he would whisper to himself the second he read your paper. you had asked him for some help, but he always seemed to find a way to not.

it's not that he doesn't want to, it's just he was never the best at math.

"uh, okay, first let's...break down...the formula. it says we need to to find the x, pfft, just take a look at shifty dazai's tinder profile, uh, okay seems pretty simple."

you sat silently in your chair as you listened to chuuya read the question out loud; "do you know the formula of a triangle? pretty sure that's what they want?"

you looked at him, biting your nails gently as you shook your head no.

"oh. okay, well that's alright, let's just search it up online!"

and so he did.

"oh shit, i almost forgot about dinner!" he suddenly panics and drops his phone in your hands..."here, you keep at it and I'll be right back!"

he kissed your temple and ran out of your room...leaving you in a shocked and confused state.

about 25 minutes later, chuuya returns from the kitchen. "okay, i'm back. have you-"

he stopped dead in his tracks to see you on the floor of your bedroom, sobbing into your knees as your math papers surrounded you.

"oh, sweetheart.." he crouched down to your body as you sniffled out cries:

"ihi give uhup! ihit's too stuhupid! I'M stuhupid!"

he shakes his head, rubbing your back as he engulfed you in a hug. "you're not stupid, hell far from it! i know this can e tough to learn, i had trouble understanding math as well. but look at me now, i'm still here and doing what i do best without having any idea how to do long division at the top of my head.."

sigma

"ugh, i give up!" you threw the papers to the side of your desk as you closed your textbook shut; your hands grabbing your hair as you glared aimlessly at the wood of your desk.

your boyfriend, sigma, over heard your sudden outburst and closed his book, his eyes focused on you. "sugarplum, are you alright?" he would ask and you sighed, rubbing your eyes as you nod; "yeah. yeah. i'm peachy!" you stood from your seat and made your way to your shared bathroom.

sigma stayed quiet, not wanting to upset you more then you already seem to be. which he still wants to know the reason for.

minutes later, you returned from the restroom.

your eyes were puffy and red as you sat on the bed, close to sigma.

he looks up from his line of view to look at you. you didn't look at him as you fell toward the sheets of the bed, and let out a loud sigh.

"stressful day?"

he asked you and you hummed in response, slowly leaning in closer to you.

he saw your movements and held you closer to him, pulling you into your laps.

"i wish math could solve it's own problems..."

he laughed softly and kissed your head.

"how about, you take a break? you seem really stressed out, and i don't like to see you like this.."

you smiled up at him and nod, "i'd like that..."

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