#this goes for a lot of other things as well
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Your Ride, Best Trip
Summary: You sleep with your boyfriend Marcus for the first time
Word Count: 9,001
Pairing: Marcus Pike x f! afab! reader
Rating: 18+ Explicit
Warnings: 18+ mdni, first time, vaginal fingering, oral (m! and f! receiving), unprotected PIV, squirting, creampie, dirty talk, so much fluff, so much kissing
Betas: @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar as ALWAYS. Love you homies I'm kissing u both <3
A/N: I have nothing to say for myself this time
Marcus Pike is perfect.
He’s your dream man.
He’s sweet. He brings you flowers just because, and he’s remembered your go-to coffee order, and he never goes to bed without texting you goodnight.
He’s effortlessly kind. He offers to walk your dog for you when you aren’t feeling well enough to get out of bed, and he always does the dishes when you cook for him, and he makes sure his bathroom is stocked with all the personal products you use at your own place.
He’s fucking handsome. His smile is straight and pearly white, and his big brown eyes warm you up, and the way his broad shoulders fill out those suits he wears to work never fails to make you weak in the knees.
He’s so smart, and he’s so funny, and he’s all yours… finally.
See, when he hadn’t so much as kissed you by your third date, you wigged out a bit.
How could you not? He’d been so thoughtful and caring and all you wanted was to feel those pillowy, soft lips against your own.
So you asked him what was up, and he told you.
Divorced. Broken engagement. A whole year of therapy to pinpoint what went wrong, what he could change, and how he could do better, how he could feel better. And then, he said, he found you— like fate— when he wasn’t even looking, when he least expected it.
You had no problem taking it slow. You’re still convinced you’d wait forever for him, as perfect as he is.
After too many little dates to count, he told you he wanted to be your boyfriend, if you’d have him.
You told him you’d love for him to be your boyfriend, of course. You’d be crazy not too.
And then he finally kissed you.
It was slow and hesitant, but it still made your heart race, made your stomach do flips. He cut it off before it could become anything more than chaste, and left your front door with a sheepish goodnight.
You’ve kissed a lot since then. You never really enjoyed kissing that much, before. It always just seemed like a means to and end, a formality before moving on to other things.
But now it’s one of your favorite ways to pass the time with him. Waiting for an Uber to take you downtown, finally getting to his place on Friday after a long work week, cuddling in bed together with an old movie playing.
You haven’t made out with anyone this much since high school. And you enjoy it, you do, but Jesus Christ, he’s been your boyfriend for three weeks now and you need him.
It doesn’t help that he touches you like you’re the last person on earth. His hands are so big and they’re gentle and electric when they find the bit of skin just under the hem of your shirt.
You think it’s going to happen, this time. Friday night takeout has long been abandoned in the living room. You’re in his bed, in his clothes, and his pinky is teasing at the waistband of his sweats that you’re wearing.
His tongue in your mouth is making you dizzy, and there’s no more blood in your brain with all of it rushing between your legs. You whimper, and you arch against him, and you want him so bad but you can’t say it. You’d feel bad, making him rush when he’s made it clear he wants to take things slow.
When his lips leave yours, you open your eyes, and find his pupils obstructing all the deep, dark brown you adore.
You have to squeeze your thighs together for a miniscule amount of relief. He notices. Of course he does. Damn that Quantico training.
“Sweetheart—”
His eyes flicker down to your lips. You’re sure they look obscene, red and slick from nearly an hour of him sucking and nibbling on them.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper.
You don’t know why you say it, but you are sorry. You feel so bad for wanting him like this, desperate and aching in his bed, over eager.
“Don’t be,” he shakes his head and gives you a reluctant smile, a smile that tells you you’re going to fall asleep extremely sexually frustrated.
But it’s fine. He’s so worth it.
You give him a soft smile back, and lean in to peck his lips. But he pulls away with his brow furrowed.
“What do you want?”
His voice is gentle when he asks. So is his hand on your back, under his shirt you’ve claimed. But it doesn’t stop that fight or flight response from kicking in.
“Nothing! Nothing, Marcus, I’m okay— I’m great. Just wanna cuddle.”
But the creases in his forehead don’t smooth out, and his hand ceases the soothing circles across your spine.
“You’re lying.”
You sigh and close your eyes.
“I’m not lying, I’m just— I don’t want to push you to move too fast.”
You expect him to be angry. But when you open your eyes again, his own have taken on that puppy-like quality you usually love. Right now, it just makes you feel guilty.
“I’ve been lying, too,” Marcus whispers.
It’s your turn to scrunch your face up. Your blood runs cold, waiting for him to elaborate. A million scenarios run through your head at lighting speed— all worse and worse until your breathing picks up and you beg him with your eyes to just get on with it—
“I have a small dick.”
His face is so flushed. He can’t meet your gaze.
He’s staring at the bedsheets between you, and you’re both just silent for a long, awkward moment.
“I mean— the divorce and all that, it’s all true. And I did want to keep from moving too fast. But— the last few weeks I guess I’ve just been… stalling?”
He finally looks up from the threads to gauge your reaction.
“Marcus…”
“I get it, okay? If you wanna go. I know I lied, and you didn’t sign up for—“
“Marcus.”
You watch his shoulders raise and his mouth snap shut, and he looks terrified.
“I don’t want to leave. You didn’t lie. It’s just— you really think that would bother me?”
He lets out a big breath, and the tension in his body eases up a little.
“I don’t know. Most people were… bothered. I guess,” he shrugs.
You cradle his jaw in your hand, let the day-old stubble tickle the pad of your thumb as you think about how to best navigate this conversation.
Because saying ‘I don’t care’ seems too dismissive. But you don’t. You couldn’t possibly care less about what’s in his pants, when everything else about him has made you fall so, so deep already. But you don’t want to make it sound like it’s something you have to even bargain with, like the pros outweigh the cons, like it even is a con. Because it’s not.
“I’m not bothered,” you finally tell him.
He still doesn’t meet your eyes, in fact, he rolls his.
“You don’t have to lie to me. It’s okay, I’ve heard it all. I know I’ve lead you on—”
“Jesus,” you cut him off, “what did— who made you feel this way?”
He finally looks at you. His eyes are wide and he looks vulnerable and hesitant. You swipe away some hair that’s fallen flat across his scrunched forehead.
“Everyone?”
You sigh his name, and you’re tentative when you lean forward to kiss him, softly, when he lets you.
He looks less terrified when you pull back. You try to smile, but this whole interaction has left such a bad taste in your mouth that it feels more like a grimace when your lips turn up.
“That’s— Fucking awful, to be frank. Pardon my French.”
He chuckles, but his gaze falls away from your face again. His sheets are not that interesting to look at.
“Really, Marcus. I mean— maybe if someone’s just looking for a hookup, then I get it. You want something specific, whatever. But why would you ever think you were leading me on?
All you’ve done is be sweet to me, and shown interest in me, and taken care of me. Unless you’re like, secretly an ax murderer, or committing some kind of major tax fraud, you haven’t led me on at all.”
He’s still not looking at you. Why won’t he look at you, and believe you?
“I don’t want to sound dismissive. I understand you’re insecure about it. I’m insecure about some things too. I don’t want to invalidate that. But I need you to know that the last thing I care about is how big your dick is.”
There. He’s looking at you. He looks a little mortified, but he’s finally meeting your gaze.
“Really?”
You scoff.
“Really really.”
A reluctant smile tugs on the corner of his pretty mouth.
“Why?”
“Because— now, don’t go getting a big head about this— you’re perfect. Like, everything about you. You’re sweet and you make me laugh and you’re gorgeous.”
His face flushes, but he lets you continue.
“And I’m in this, with you. I want this to go somewhere. And I think we’re super compatible.”
“Me too,” he whispers.
“Good, so… we’re on the same page then.”
You watch him lick his lips, and his hand that’s been loosely draped over your waist finally starts back up, drawing little circles across the base of your spine.
“And… There’s other reasons,” you mumble, voice low with a hint of mischief.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah… For one, your hands.”
“My hands?”
He emphasizes his question with a squeeze of your hip, and you giggle at the way it tickles, and also with a bit of embarrassment.
“Yeah… They’re uh… big. I look at them a lot. Honestly surprised you haven’t noticed.”
He huffs, lets his big hand travel further up the shirt on your back.
“Your nails are always trimmed, and— your fingers are long and thick. I’ve thought about them a lot.”
He breathes your name, and now you realize you’re the one avoiding eye contact. When you look back, his pupils are all blown out again, and it spurs you on.
“And I love to give head.”
“Jesus.”
“And the bigger it is, the quicker I get tired. I could stay down there all night, if my jaw didn’t get sore.”
“Sweetheart—”
“Really, it’s one of my favorite things, making someone fall apart under my mouth. But I hate gagging and choking my way through it. It’s tedious.”
He says your name again, this time with a warning tone.
You bite your lip to keep anything from tumbling from your mouth unwarranted.
“You’re not lying.”
His eyes dart back and forth across your face, and you shake your head in lieu of opening your mouth again.
“Fuck.”
It’s the first time Marcus has cursed in front of you. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and your clit throbs.
“I’ve thought about you so much. Your lips, you have to know, right? How plump and full they are… I think about them at night, when I’m touching myself.”
That’s convincing enough, apparently. Before you can embarrass yourself any further with your confessions, he surges forward to press those plush lips against yours and groans into your mouth.
His hand flattens against your back and pulls, manhandling you closer to him. Your fingers find his silky hair and tangle in the strands, holding on for dear life at this shift between the two of you.
You can’t muster up an ounce of shame. Finally, you have Marcus where you want him, pressed against you. You hike a leg over one of his, getting it between your thighs for even the smallest amount of friction.
You feel him gasp, chest inflating to press even closer against yours. It’s a rush, finally getting this after waiting so long.
Your hands scramble to get under his white t-shirt. His skin is hot, even against your sweaty palms. There’s so much to feel, the slight swell of his stomach, and the muscle of his flank, the soft but firm pecs.
You whine when he pulls away from your lips. He shushes you gently, and you open your eyes to watch his slick lips and his hooded eyes and flushed face disappear briefly, just quick enough to shed his shirt.
Smooth, is the first thing that comes to mind. His tan skin has no hair above his belly button, just the errant freckle here and there. His nipples are peaked, and you reach out to press your thumb against one before your mind catches up to the action, before you realize you’re gawking.
But when your hand stutters against his skin and you look up at him, he’s smirking, amused and turned on. You falter a bit, mouth open while you search for something to say, some sort of excuse as to why you’re devouring him like you’re starved.
He saves you though, with his low, grumbled voice.
“I think about you, too. All the time.”
You dig your nails into his soft skin at his admission, scraping against his chest.
“You know that? You think I haven’t had you a million different ways in my head?”
Your heart stops beating, and you stop breathing, and the heat between your legs only gets heavier and wetter.
“You want me to show you, sweetheart?”
Your heartbeat comes back as a rush in your ears, and you squeeze the meat of his pec as you nod.
He kisses you again, licks at your lips until you suck his tongue into your mouth, and now it’s just filthy. No more pretense, it’s been months of pretense, and neither of you have any more patience.
His fingers seek out your own nipple, a tight bud protruding through cloth, and he rolls it between his fingers gently over the material of his shirt.
“You come over and wear my clothes like this, and you think you don’t drive me crazy?”
The words are grumbled into your mouth, against your cheek, then your jaw and your neck as he seeks out more of you to kiss.
“I don’t wash them when you leave. I wear them and I smell you all day and it makes me feel insane.”
You mewl at his admission. Everything he says now is so fucking raw, now that you’ve broken down his walls. He shushes you again, grabs the hem of his shirt to help you pull it over your head.
He curses when he sees you. It’s the first time. You’ve both been toeing this line of modesty, and maybe you’d be more nervous if you weren’t careening toward the pleasure he’s promised you.
He coaxes you to lie on your back beside him, and his mouth works a slow trail down the side of your neck, nipping and suckling until he finally gets your nipple in his mouth. You arch into it, encouraging him with a hand tangled in his thick hair. You feel his groan reverberating around your rib cage when you scrape your nails back and forth across his scalp. You need him, like nothing you’ve ever craved before.
“Marcus—”
“I know, I know.”
His syrupy voice isn’t as soothing as his lips, though, when he cranes his neck back up to kiss you again. He nips there, a sneaky distraction from the way his fingers trail down to circle your navel, and then even farther, teasing the hem of his sweatpants you’re wearing. His featherlight touch makes you jolt when it finally registers, your stomach jumping under his fingers.
“Can I?”
You’re nodding against his lips, into the kiss, and then whining when his hand breaches the waistband. Those thick, long fingers flutter across your mound. Your breath catches on every wiggle. But when his fingers splay out, half on one side of your slit and half on the other, teasing your lips, you exhale hard and press up into his touch.
“Oh, are you that sensitive?”
His voice is half-teasing, half-shocked, as he mumbles into the tingling skin of your neck.
“It’s just you.”
And it’s true. There’s no ego-stroking here. You’ve waited too long to get this and now you’re fiending, any touch is a relief.
And he’s huffing into that skin under your ear, like you’re playing it up too much, but he bites down on the skin anyway and groans.
“So sweet, huh?”
You make a disgruntled noise but there’s not enough blood in your brain to get your point across. Instead, you wrap your hand around his meaty forearm and force his fingers lower, where you know your underwear is a soaking, sticky mess.
He curses and pulls away from his assault on your neck to look at you. You’re certain you know what he sees, blown out pupils and sweat-slick forehead and bitten, shiny lips.
“That’s all for me?”
There’s a sly smile tugging at one side of his mouth, just barely there, but you see it in the way one dimple grows more than the other. You nod in answer, scrape your nails up the hair on his arm and watch him shudder.
But he retreats from between your legs, and chuckles when you squeeze his forearm tighter in protest. The sound makes you shiver, all low and gruff and teasing. But he softens the blow with another one of his kisses, heated and sloppy and needy. His hands, always so gentle and careful and big, find the creases between your hips and thighs. It makes you arch up into the touch and whimper again, and you wonder briefly if you’ll ever not be desperate for him again.
He watches your face twist up when he pulls away from you, watches the way your breasts move with every heave of your lungs. His dark eyes travel lower, where his thumbs sear circles into your hips, and his tongue swipes across his lower lip.
“Can I take these off, sweetheart?”
The tenderness in his voice fills you with a completely different warmth, white hot flames simmering into a blaze of feelings you aren’t sure you’ve ever truly experienced before. You let it consume you.
“Yes, please.”
He hums a satisfied little noise as his fingers hook under the waistband. He takes his time, making sure to catch your underwear as well. It’s a sight, his huge hands working your only remaining cover down, down, until you’re bare to him and he’s gently cradling each of your calves to fully remove the last of your clothes.
Those hands work their way back up, attentive, memorizing the valleys and peaks of your flesh, the nuances of your skin, the way it bends over your joints. Before you know it, he’s propped himself up beside you once again, one arm supporting his weight so his other hand can work its way between your thighs.
You drag your eyes away from his fingers to look at him, only to find him focused on your face.
It’s a few long moments before either of you move or speak or breathe. It’s you who breaks the spell, only because you know you’re at the very edge of control.
“You sure you’re ready?”
You reach up to cradle his neck in your hand. It’s hot to the touch, and so are his ears, the tips of them burning a cute pink where your thumb grazes them. His eyes get softer and crinkle even more around the edges.
“I’m positive… can’t believe I psyched myself out for so long.”
He huffs and shakes his head at himself. You’re ready to kiss that apprehension away again, but his hand on your thigh pulls, as gentle as everything else he’s done, to spread yourself open for him.
The cool air makes your breath catch in your throat. Or maybe it’s the anticipation. So close to what you’ve thought about every single night for weeks. Months– since the day you first met, if you’re being honest.
He keeps his eyes on you, and you hold his gaze even though it burns. But only until his fingers brush you. Your eyelids flutter shut at the feeling, mouth open wide in shock at how electric just one simple touch feels.
His finger glides so easily around your opening, and you hear him gasp as he explores all the slick.
“You’re soaked.”
His voice is thick with awe, as another finger joins in on the fun, gathering up your arousal. But they don’t breach, and you feel like he’s teasing, readying a whine in protest.
The noise gets stuck in your throat when they trail up, gliding through your swollen folds. They find your clit, full and begging for attention, and circle with hardly any pressure.
Oh, he’s fucking good at this.
There’s no apprehension in his movements. It’s like he’s read a fucking manual on how to press all your buttons. The light, slick touches are building up that heat in your gut quicker than you can ever remember with anyone else.
You’re stunned silent, eyes pinched shut and your head tilted back into the mattress, digging in for even an ounce of grounding.
“That feel good, sweetheart?”
Your vocal chords come back to life, finally, as you whimper from the gentle drag of his fingers.
“You have no idea.”
He chuckles, and you open your eyes to see his own still trained on your face.
“I think I do,” he mumbles.
He shifts, presses his hips into you, and the hard line of him digs into your side.
You clench around nothing, and your clit pulses under the pads of his fingers. He curses and responds to the needy little bud, applying more pressure and speeding up those little circles.
All the while he grinds his hips into you, soft little movements that sync up with his hand, and you want him so bad. You’re losing patience by the second, the only thing keeping you from pouncing is the way his fingers work you over so perfectly it’s like you’re touching yourself.
You’re not, though, and that becomes perfectly clear when one thick, long finger presses lower and slips into you. It slides so easily, despite how much girth it has on one of your own. You both make stuttered noises at the feeling, and Marcus’ lips capture your own to let them mingle together.
Your hips egg him on, lifting and shifting, but he is teasing now. It’s a slow drag in and out, his finger pin straight, and if he hadn’t been so diligent this entire time you’d think he didn’t know what he was doing.
But you whine, a soft plea of his name into his mouth, and he obliges. That thick finger crooks up, just as the heel of his hand flattens against your clit, and stars bloom behind your eyelids.
You groan, and he laps it up before his lips leave yours.
“That’s it. This what you needed?”
A pathetic whimper comes out in response as you nod your head. His finger presses harder into that perfect spot, and his palm slides over your wet clit. You’re clenching around him, savoring the feeling of being filled by him, working your hips down and back to meet his motions. It grows and grows, that feeling in your gut, so close that you can’t be bothered to worry about what needy noises you’re making.
He mutters another frantic curse, and his hips jump to press his cock into you harder.
“I gotta taste you, sweetheart. Can I? Will you let me?”
You nod so fast you’re surprised your head doesn’t detach from your neck. He soothes that frenzied part of your brain with another kiss, slips his finger out of you, and moves to get between your legs.
You thread your fingers through his hair to keep him still, even if it’s just for a moment. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and the drag of his sweatpants across your sensitive center makes you arch up into him for more, to seek out more friction.
He just huffs a laugh against your lips and angles his hips away, denying you the simple pleasure of grinding against the tent in his pants.
“Not yet. Let me take my time with you. You’ve waited so long, right? I’ll make it up to you, you just gotta let me.”
You huff.
You should’ve known Marcus would be just as much of an infuriating tease in the bedroom as he is outside of it. The trivia dates and the cocky smirk he always sported when he won, the little bets he’d make on how a movie’s plot was going to twist, the refusal to ever let you pay for dinner— it’s all adding up now, and you can’t believe you didn’t expect it.
Marcus Pike is a smug little prick underneath the humble, sheepish grins, and it’s hot and it’s yours.
“Put your money where your mouth is,” you breathe.
He chuckles and trails said mouth down the length of your naked body. You watch his plump lips explore your skin and leave wet patches littered in their wake, shiny little stakes claiming you. His five o’clock shadow is just long enough to abrade your skin a bit, delightful little pricks that make your muscles jump involuntarily.
He makes it to your mound before looking up at you. His brown eyes are mostly obstructed by his pupils, but they shine all glassy in the dim lamplight of his bedroom. His shitty grin has faded and he looks determined, and it steals the breath from your lungs.
He teases some more, of course he does. His lips peck and tickle the creases of your thighs, the skin of your outer lips, and the very tip of your hood before you finally see his pink tongue slip out.
All of a sudden you can’t watch, can only let your head fall back and close your eyes and drown in the anticipation.
The pointed tip of his tongue just barely grazes you, tracing a razor-thin line from your dripping hole all the way to your mound. It tickles, and your breath comes in faster as he does it again, and again, and again.
Just before you can beg for more, he flattens his tongue and drags it up your slit. He laps at your folds, slow and calculated, and the satisfied noises tumble out of you as you feel his taste buds glide against you.
All you can think to do is find his hair and use it to hang on. Your legs spread wider, and he takes the encouragement. His tongue finds your clit, so swollen and sensitive with need by now. He circles it, then wiggles his tongue back and forth, playing with it, playing with you. He shakes his head from side to side to give you more, presses even more firmly, and the heavy feeling in your gut tightens tenfold.
Your hips start to move on their own, rocking up into his face, helping his motions along. He groans with it, muffled and wet between your legs.
A delirious thought gets stuck in your horny brain. You don’t know how you’ll ever let him leave this spot between your legs now that you’ve finally got him here. It’s so wet and warm and incredible, and your nails dig into his scalp to drive the point home, to try and lock him here forever.
His voice snaps you from your reverent thoughts, thick and deep.
“Fuck, sweetheart. You taste so good, looks so fucking pretty.”
You brave a glance down at him, his red soaked mouth and his dark eyes that are boring holes into your pussy. One of his hands releases its grip on your thigh to glide across the dripping mess of your center. He toys with you, spreading you open with splayed fingers, watching the way your folds bend to his whim. With it exposed and protruding and aching for his touch, he leans down to wrap his plush lips around your clit and suckle. Curses fly from your lips at the concentrated attention, and it’s so so so fucking good you’re sure you’re going combust.
His hand slips lower, and his mouth doesn’t stop, and you’re dangerously close to tipping over the edge. And then two thick fingers slip easily into you, immediately seeking out that spot inside you and tapping there.
It’s blinding pressure overwhelming the two places you need him most. He drums up a rhythm that would remind you of a dance, maybe, if your brain were cognitive enough to form a coherent thought. Down with his head, engulfing your clit, and up with his fingers, squeezing that spongy spot inside you. Over and over, he works you with soft grunts against your cunt until your fingers lock up in his hair and your hips start to shake.
“Please don’t stop,” you pant, “I’m so close.”
To his credit, and this is more than you can say for the majority of men you’ve been with, he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down, nor does he speed up. He keeps at you exactly how you need it, moaning strung-out little noises into your center until you’re dropping.
All the wind is knocked out of you. Your hips jolt into his face and he takes it in stride, lapping at your clit when the seal of his lips is broken from your erratic movements. You tremble through it, clench around his fingers, and squeeze his head between your thighs as you ride it out on his tongue.
As the shivers roll through you, Marcus’ fingers slow, and though he can’t remove his tongue from you because of how your legs have him in a headlock, he stills his tongue so you can take the last bit of what you need from him.
His breathing is just as heavy as yours, wheezing out moans and muffled words of encouragement. When you feel yourself slipping down from your peak, you let go of the death grip on his hair, and open your legs, and grant yourself a few deep breaths before you dare to look down at him.
He carefully, cautiously pulls his fingers out of you. A comforting ‘shhh’ is cooed into the sweaty skin of your thigh when you make a strangled sound. Both of his hands splay out on either hip, a light and grounding touch accompanied by the kisses he’s dropping all over the skin he can reach.
Finally, you grant yourself a peek down at him. The first thing you notice is how his broad shoulders are, heaving with baited breath. Then, his normally pristine hair, sticking out every which way and then some from your frantic fingers.
His face is red, you guess from exertion. Or maybe you really did restrict some blood flow. Christ. That’s what he gets, being so goddamn good at that.
And then his lips. His lips. Those lips that up until now you’ve only ever kissed or dreamed of. They’re even more plump, swollen and slick with you, shining just like his chin is.
You don’t know what to say. You know you want to kiss him. Funny, considering that’s how all this started, but you’re dying to see what you taste like on him.
Luckily, he breaks the silence, after licking those delectable lips and clearing his throat.
“So… How’d it compare?”
Your face contorts on its own, surprised at the sudden and intrusive question.
“Pardon?”
But then he laughs, pressing those wet dimples into your heated skin to hide them.
“To all those thoughts you told me about. How’d I do?”
You laugh too then, a weary huff of breath as you sit up.
“Don’t go fishing for compliments,” you tease, though there’s not much heat behind it with how out of breath you still are.
He goes to respond, but you get a hand in his hair again and coax him up. You meet him halfway, swallowing his surprised noise when you finally get those pillowy lips against yours and lick at them, his tongue, his teeth, until you aren’t sure what taste is you and what is him. Until you realize you’re flat on your back again as he hovers over you, still between your thighs.
You both hum when the kiss breaks, and you rest your forehead against his, nuzzle his nose and sigh at the floaty feeling in your limbs.
“Better,” you whisper.
You feel his grin bump into your own. You nip at it, playful and languid as you finally begin to get some of your bearings back.
And then you’re shocked back into the realization that there’s all this smooth skin right in front of you, this hunk of a man hovering above, the one who just melted your brain into a fuzzy little mold of itself. You grab his hips as he licks into your mouth and scrape your nails up his flanks, unhurried, while the touch makes him shiver.
You feel out the strength in his pecs, those broad shoulders you often daydream about, and then you push. Catching him off guard, he gasps as he loses his balance and tumbles to the side, and then laughs when you press him into the mattress and straddle his hips.
You laugh along with him, but it slowly tapers off as his hands find your naked skin— your stomach and hips and back and then your ass, where it hovers just above that bulge in his sweatpants.
He’s looking up at you with what you can only describe as horny apprehension.
His eyelids droop over his dilated pupils, but his brow is all pinched up in the middle. His mouth hangs open, like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out.
So you kiss him, soft and gentle, as gentle as he’s been with you all night. His sigh washes heat across your cheeks, and you feel him relax under you just a little.
But then you shift in his grasp, lower your ass, and press your soaking center to his crotch. You whimper at the feeling of his sweatpants dragging across your sensitive, wet cunt. He moans and bites at your bottom lip maybe a little too hard.
But it’s okay. He pulls away and pants your name and you settle there, your weight pressed down on his cock. Your lips find that smooth patch in his stubble, biting that chiseled jaw, licking down the curve of his neck, his shoulder, up to his ear. You delight in every goosebump you draw, and breathe in his scent before you speak up.
“Will you let me suck it?”
All his breath rushes out in a big gust. His fingertips dig into your naked sides, and he nods.
“Please.”
It’s a barely-there whisper. You pull away from that silky soft skin where his pulse is hammering to check his reaction.
He’s begging with his eyes. It makes you smirk, sitting up straighter, trailing your fingers down the front of his body until you reach the drawstring of his sweatpants.
You’re still sitting on his groin, though. You give a little playful wiggle, and his hips rock up to grind harder. But you don’t want to tease any more. Every moment spent teasing him, you’re also denying yourself, and you’ve been patient for long enough.
So you shift down the bed, nestled between his legs, and get to work on the tie of his pants. Every time your fingertips brush the hair below his belly button, he sucks in a breath. You finally get the thing untied, and look up one last time for permission before you start to drag the material down, grabbing his boxers as you go.
Your eyes stay trained on his face instead of staring at his crotch, especially as he wiggles a bit and lifts his legs to remove his pants. You don’t want to stare, and you also don’t want to not look, you don’t want him to be uncomfortable at all with you.
You want it to be perfect. You want to make him feel the way he makes you feel.
He nods his head, and you cease averting your eyes to trail down his body, the bushy happy trail and the neatly trimmed hair above his cock and his cock.
His little cock.
It is, indeed, on the smaller side. Probably one of the smallest you’ve seen in real life. Three and half or four inches long, if you had to guess.
And it’s so pretty, cut and on the thicker side, the slightest upward curve that makes your pussy tighten around nothing.
You dive right in, press your nose to all the hair while you kiss at the base of him, humming when his cock twitches against the side of your face. He smells so good and clean, like always, but down here there’s even more of that Marcus smell that always lingers beneath his soap and cologne, salty and warm.
When you drag your eyes up to him, his head’s thrown back against the pillows, not looking at you. You want him to look, you want him to see how much you’re going to enjoy this.
You’ll make him look, one way or another.
For now, you just lathe your tongue up the underside of him, then back down to tickle his balls, all the while enjoying how his prick jerks under the attention.
He’s making little noises, mostly puffs of breath and gasps, and his hands twist up in the sheets beside you. You grab one of them, slow and steady, and lead it to the back of your head.
And then, you finally get your lips wrapped around the head of his dick, and you slowly sink down until he’s entirely in your mouth.
It’s not until your nose presses against the flatness above his cock do you hear him release a strangled groan. That’s when you look back up at him and find him staring down, mouth agape, locked on your mouthful of him.
You pull back up, wiggling your tongue as you go, memorizing the ridges and hairs and veins. Your eyes are locked on his, and his are locked on your lips, so you try to give him a show.
You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, nod your head up and down to let his cockhead tickle your tastebuds. A gruff noise leaves him, hearty and hoarse, and you want to smile but you’re not in a position to.
Instead, you flick your tongue against that little band of tissue just under his slit, and his hips stutter as his grip on the back of your head tightens.
“Fuck, sweetheart.”
Now you do smile, your lips upturned against the head of his cock, and it jerks against your mouth while you kiss it, until you envelop it once more.
You hum around him, at the weighted feeling of him occupying your mouth, how smooth it feels against your tongue and how nice it is to take him all the way in and not gag or choke or drool.
It makes your cunt ache, makes you crave him even more, makes you want to be full of him everywhere.
You reach a hand down to touch yourself. You’re still dripping, can feel it all slipping from your entrance and cooling your skin in the air conditioning. You’ve had just enough time to recover from the mess Marcus made of you. You’re sensitive but not too sensitive, when you trace your clit with your fingertips and moan around the mouthful of cock.
“Oh fuck, are you touching yourself?”
Your eyes flicker open and look up to him. He’s clenching his jaw, grinding his teeth as his nostrils flare. You hum and nod your head to answer, his cock slipping back and forth through the ring of your lips. He whimpers, and his head tips back against the mattress again, and it makes you speed up the efforts on both him and yourself.
He curses, soft little chants, kneading the back of your neck in his big hand as you suck him in over and over. You close your eyes and lose yourself in it for a bit, the way he slips so easily in and out, the way his hips move just a little, like he’s trying not to but he can’t help it. The sounds, his grunts and your sloppy mouth and your fingers working over your slick folds.
He says your name.
You hum, use your free hand to play with the fuzzy skin of his balls.
He says your name again, and this time it’s urgent, almost panicked.
“Sweetheart, stop, please.”
You do, immediately. You open your mouth wide and let him fall from your lips and unhand him while you look at his exerted face.
“Are you okay?”
He huffs, and his cock bobs beside your face.
“I’m so okay. I just— did you want me to…? It’s okay if you don’t, I just didn’t want it to be over—”
“Marcus.”
His heated babbling stops as he clamps his mouth shut. His broad shoulders lift and drop with his heading breath.
“Do you want to fuck me?”
You smooth your hands across the scattered hair on his thighs when you ask. His prick twitches again at your question.
“I— Yeah. Yes. I do.”
He looks almost guilty about it, with his wide eyes and the bashful expression spreading across his face.
“I want you to fuck me so bad,” you tell him, “I’ve wanted it for way too long.”
His breath leaves him in a shuddery exhale, something like relief or awe.
“Yeah? You still want it?”
His hand skates from the back of your neck to your jaw, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek.
“Please, Marcus. Give it to me.”
You turn your head to kiss his thumb, a sloppy little peck before you take it into your mouth. You smile around it when he groans, and bite it before it slips away.
“Can you get on the edge of the bed for me?”
You can, but not without throwing a cheeky ‘yes sir’ his way. You’re not sure if the noise he makes is from arousal or a lack of amusement, but there will be plenty of time to explore that later.
For now, you do as he says. You scoot so your ass is just about to fall off the side of his bed. The wooden bed frame is the perfect height to rest your heels on, and as Marcus slips a pillow under your head, you’re as comfortable as ever.
The mattress dips when he gets up to stand in front of you. The lamplight from the nightstand is really doing things for him. The slight sheen of sweat on his chest glistens, as does the wetness at his temples where his hair is starting to curl up. All those lean muscles have never been more apparent than they are now, the golden glow creating beautiful shadows across his naked body.
He’s so hot.
It doesn’t help that his big, warm hands snake up your bare thighs as he gets between them. His small dick stands at attention, pointing toward the ceiling, and you feel your pussy spasm with anticipation.
“Please,” you whisper.
He nods, steps closer as you spread your legs wider and wiggle even further off the bed.
“Perfect, sweetheart.”
He leans over you with one hand on the bed to brace himself. The other is wrapped firmly around the base of his cock, and he looks down to watch it as he glides it through your slit.
“Are you ready?”
You nod and hum your affirmative. He takes the go-ahead and his cockhead slides across your clit, down, so slowly, until it catches on the rim of your hole and you both gasp at the feeling.
You look down to watch too, lifting up on your elbows to see the moment your pussy lets him sink inside, fluttering around him, engulfing his prick one inch at a time.
You knew it. You fucking knew his cock was perfect but still you’re shocked at the way the curve makes him drag across your upper wall. And when his hips are flush with yours, all that pressure is concentrated at that bundle of nerve endings inside of you, and you’re going to lose your mind if he doesn’t move.
“Oh fuck.”
You let yourself flop back in the bed, but reach for his hand that’s supporting his weight. Your nails scrabble for purchase against the skin of his wrist as you curse again, your walls contracting around him as you tense.
“Fuck, Marcus, please.”
You’re so far past caring about how desperate you sound. You need him, the textbook definition of it; it’s an absolute necessity that he fucks you.
He curses, and you realize you’ve closed your eyes. When you open them, his jaw is hanging and he’s looking at you, your face, like it’s something he’s never seen before. Like he’s shocked you’re here in front of him.
But his hips are still, and you’re helpless to the way your own cant up to urge him, and finally he’s pulling back out. The slow drag against the most tender spot inside you rips a noise from your throat, involuntary. He pulls almost all the way out, until the head of his dick is kissing your opening and you can feel how he stretches the tight ring of muscles.
And then in again, almost as slowly, and you’re already out of breath. The feeling steals all the wind from your lungs. It’s setting you on fire, perfect friction against just the right spot, the one that’s still tender and alight from your previous orgasm.
“It’s so fucking good,” you manage to choke out.
Marcus moans above you, and his hips snap into you, and his free hand finds your waist so he can dig his nails into your flesh.
“It is, fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking good.”
A bead of sweat drips from his nose and lands on your belly, and that seems to make you snap out of it.
“Fuck me. Fuck me hard, please, make me come.”
You watch his mouth quirk up into a pretty smirk, dimples on full display.
“Yes ma’am.”
Your giggles only last for a moment, dissolving into a high whine when he slides out of you and back in, a harsh thrust of his hips that doesn’t let up.
He fucks you. You try to watch; it’s too hot not to. His biceps flex respectively, one with his effort to hold himself above you, and the other where he holds you in place by your waist.
His neck, the one vein there that’s protruding as he bares his teeth. The way his chest is rapidly rising and falling as he drives into you. His big brown eyes, even darker now as he succumbs to the feeling of you.
But you just can’t keep your eyes open for long. It feels too good, you’re too close to the edge. Your insides are so tender and alight from the first time you came. Every single thrust inside you is taking you apart and building your second so quickly. Your eyelids droop closed and there’s already stars blooming behind them.
His little noises are louder, like this. Grunts and gasps and moans, falling over you, all for you.
“Fuck, I’m so close,” you warn him.
Your back arches to encourage his pace. His skin slaps into yours faster as he groans.
“Thank god, me too. What do you need, sweetheart?”
Without a verbal answer to his strained question, you slip your hand down to press against your throbbing clit.
“Shit, yeah, play with your pussy for me. I wanna— fuck— let me see you come. Looks so gorgeous.”
His voice is thick in his throat, and you work your fingers over yourself faster. You’re clenching wildly around him, you can’t help it. Every thrust in sets your nerves on fire, almost too much, but not quite. His grunts are turning into growls, uninhibited and primal. You feel the mattress shift and open your eyes to find him standing up straight.
Both hands grab your hips now, and that little angle change makes him grind even harder into your g-spot, and you’re tumbling over the edge. It’s been building under the surface for so long that when it hits, it’s blinding. There’s static in your toes that washes over you, up, up, dragging a fiery heat with it that consumes your center and makes your head fuzzy.
There’s screaming.
You’re screaming. Your eyes are clenched so tight, as are your fingers, all your joints, your pussy, around Marcus as he fucks you through it with sloppy thrusts.
“That’s it, oh my god, sweetheart, you— fuck. I’m gonna come, I’m— where?”
“In me.”
Your throat is scratchy when you answer, and you don’t have any time to elaborate on why that’s not a bad idea. You’re still coming, wave after wave of warmth rolling across your body, and you’re vaguely aware of how wet everything is, the sound of him fucking you even more obscene.
His shout doesn’t quite rival yours, but you feel it when he empties inside of you. His cock jerks and and twitches, wringing out every little bit of pleasure from you, and you think you’re still coming, the pinpricks of pleasure are still too intense to be aftershocks.
He stays pressed as deep as he can be as his stomach convulses and his thighs shake, just like yours do where they’ve somehow wrapped around him. Your eyes open again, and the lamplight is so bright now, his breathing is so loud. He grunts and pulls out a bit, then presses back in, and again, until it falters and his whole body slumps.
His top half collapses onto you, his little breaths huff and tickle the tingling skin of your belly. Your own breath comes out in a weak moan, and it takes all the strength you can muster just to run your fingers through his sweaty hair.
“Jesus,” he says.
Your name cascading off his lips in such a strung out voice that it makes you clench around him again.
“Huh?”
God, how are you ever going to move again?
“You uh… Is that a common occurrence?”
Christ, why is he using such big words?
“What are you talking about?”
He clears his throat.
“You like— You squirted?”
You laugh, one delirious huff. It makes his head rock on your jiggling belly.
“I what?”
You gather the will to look down at him. His mouth is open, surprised and amused, and his eyes are shiny and bright.
“Yeah, like, a lot.”
He’s still inside you but softening, and his own chuckles make him slip out.
You lift up on your elbows as he stands up straight and the evidence is clear. The hair above his dick and high on his thighs is all dark and soaked.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”
The sheets on the edge of the bed are absolutely ruined, and you pray he’s one of those men that has a mattress protector. You’re more than a little mortified, and the way he’s staring at you, silent, is beginning to make you squirmy.
“What?”
“Why do you seem so surprised?”
His fingertips are feather-light across your thighs, and you shiver.
“I’ve never actually… done that? I would have warned you.”
He makes a pained sound, and those fingertips turn into a tight grip just above your knees.
He doesn’t speak up. Instead, he lies on the bed beside you. He holds himself by his elbow, but that hand strokes your scalp while the other traces up and down your thigh, your hips, your breasts, anything he can reach. You avoid the topic at hand to relax into it, and you think you’re finally coming down as that boneless feeling washes over you.
You’re vaguely aware of his cum dripping out of you, but the sheets are a lost cause anyway. You just watch his lax face, the way the wrinkles in his brow are all smoothed out, the way his eyes follow the patterns he’s drawing on your body.
He catches you staring. His gaze meets yours and he smiles and it’s sunny. It warms you through, despite all the sweat that’s cooling on your body.
“Hi,” he whispers.
You giggle, and he does too. He tries to hold it in by biting his lip, but it’s no use. You will your exhausted bones to shift and face him, and he presses his lips to yours and they meld together.
It’s languid, unhurried, just reacquainting after too long apart. It feels a little goofy, with how you’re both smiling so wide, but it calms you into settling down after such a high.
Both of your breathing seems even, when you part.
“That was—”
“It’s never—”
You both chuckle.
“Ladies first.”
You feel shy now. You can’t imagine why, but a fluttery feeling overtakes your stomach.
“I was just gonna say… That was better than all those times I imagined it.”
You didn’t think it was possible, but his smile grows even wider. His eyes flicker from yours to the sheets between you, and you think maybe he feels as bashful as you do.
“It’s never been that good.”
A sigh escapes him when he speaks, and his nervous gaze lands on you when his face falls into something more earnest.
It takes your breath away. Because it’s never been that good for you either, and isn’t that such a perfect coincidence?
You tug him to you by the back of his neck, eat up the surprised little sound he makes against your mouth.
“When can we go again?”
#Pedro pascal#Pedro pascal x reader#Pedro pascal smut#Pedro pascal fanfiction#Pedro pascal characters#x reader#marcus pike#marcus pike x reader#marcus pike smut#the mentalist
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Little Tease
Kim Chaehyun x Male Reader
Tags: titjob, couch sex, daddy kink, creampie
"I'll meet you at your place like usual, ok?"
"Sure, no problem bro. Don't be too hopeful that I'll be there today."
That's how the conversation between me, Moon Jiyeon and my friend, Kim Donghoon always goes. Me and Donghoon have been friends since we're in elementary school. Right now, we're both college students and I always go to his house just to hang out after our classes.
It's the end of my class right now. Yeah, if you all are thinking, me and Donghoon aren't in the same classes and we both have different courses; I'm taking the engineering course while he is taking the law course. Also, he's been in the college's student council since last week, so he's been a lot busy nowadays.
As I expected, I got a message from him saying that he wasn't able to hangout with me. I sigh as I have expected that this would happen. However, he still asks me to come to his place and somebody will hang out with me there. I then texted him again, asking who's gonna hang out with me at his place and he answered back with, 'his sister'. The minute I saw the word 'sister', I was dumbfounded.
Apparently, my friend has a little sister named Kim Chaehyun who is a year younger than me and my friend. Back then, when I hung out with Donghoon at his place when we're in elementary school, she was also there. The three of us are basically partners in crime as we all do things together back then.
However, things have not been the same since Chaehyun has been accepted to join SM Entertainment as a trainee. This causes her to be unable to hangout with me and her brother that often. When she was nominated as a member for Kep1er, both me and Donghoon were very ecstatic as the two of us know that she has been working so hard to be able to debut.
One thing that I still remember till this day is that she has once told me that she has a liking towards me when she was 10 and I was 11. Knowing that I'm going to hangout with her and still remember what she said when we're younger, I kinda have a thought of whether she still has a liking towards me or not.
Fast forward to now, I am already at the front door of Donghoon and Chaehyun's place. I ring the doorbell to indicate to the person inside that I have arrived. As I am waiting for the door to open, lots of thoughts come flying around my mind about Chaehyun, such as how she is doing, how she looks nowadays, and other stuff.
Then, I noticed the doorknob start to turn and the door opened. As the door opens, it shows the girl I'm thinking of just now, wearing a white sports bra with a blue shirt shrug and a white skirt. I was amazed with her pretty and sexy appearance with her assets shown, her thick thighs and her big busty tits which made me dazed for a while.
It was until she snapped her fingers in front of my face that made me wake up from it. Gosh, how stupid I was seeing her giggling shyly after that happened.
“Oppa, am I that pretty which makes you dazed just now?” She says that after giggling. The only thing I could do is just scratch the side of my head after hearing her ask. She giggles once more before inviting me to go inside the house.
After entering the house, I immediately sit on the sofa while Chaehyun sits on the armchair on the right. I was about to ask about what she's doing nowadays, but it seems like she beats me to it.
“So oppa, how is your life nowadays? It's definitely a shame that you hang out with my big brother less due to his roles.” She asks. “Well, it's just like that… It really can't be helped about his roles, I don't mind about it though.” I then answer.
Then, I ask her about her activities as an idol in which she answers with the usuals, practice and such. “Ah, I'm such a fool not to serve some treats for you, oppa. Oppa, are you ok with tea and crackers?” She suddenly asks.
After hearing her ask, I just nod to it which makes her go to the kitchen to prepare the food. As I am waiting for her to prepare the treats, I get a message from Donghoon that he might need a few more hours to deal with his work at the college. I was about to tell her that I might be leaving the place when I see Chaehyun bending down to find some kitchenware, I suppose. Surprisingly, her long skirt gets pulled up which shows her pussy.
At that moment, I was dazed a bit and my bulge started to appear from my pants. And with that, I try to distract myself by looking at my phone, trying to forget what I just saw. Without me knowing, Chaehyun is still in the kitchen, having a huge smirk on her face as her plan works.
A few minutes later, she comes back with a teapot full of tea, cups and a tray of plain crackers. She then goes to the opposite side of the coffee table, just right in front of me before putting all of the treats she brought from the kitchen. I was stunned yet again due to seeing her cleavage as she was bending down while putting the treats onto the coffee table.
I start to eat the treats that she had served me once she sits back on the couch beside mine. We both then start to chat about our past lives, how her idol life is at the moment and so on. Suddenly, I had the urge to ask her about what's lingering in my mind.
“You know, I somehow still remember about you having a liking for me…” I state. Her eyes bulge out a little after hearing that statement coming out from me and her cheeks start to redden. I then continued asking, “… so I wonder if you still have that feeling until now?”
After I asked her that question, I could see that her cheeks were fully reddened, which means she was blushing madly. It took quite a while for her to answer my question, just after her naggings on why I brought the topic out.
“Well… ummm… I s-still do… I lik- no, I love you, oppa.” She answers. I was shocked hearing that, which makes me speechless. “My feelings for you have never faded, heck it grew even more.” She continues.
I was in total shock after hearing her answer despite me correctly estimating her answer, but I did not expect that her feelings for me were that deep. In fact, it also shocks me that she said she loves me as I actually start to have feelings for her as well, just a bit later after her confession back then, well, about a year after the confession.
In an instance, I go sit right beside her and grasp her hands which makes her gasp for a bit. “Chae, I know this might sound awkward, but I do also have feelings for you. Well, a bit later after your confession when we were little.” I state it to her. My confession really makes her shocked even more and tears a bit.
“R-Really, oppa?” She asks. I then nod and continue to say more. “It's that, your affection and your attention towards me makes me fall for you.” I then give a peck on her lips which makes her even more stunned and her cheeks become even redder.
“S-So oppa, are we… a couple from n-now?” She asks while still sniffling. I just nodded before holding the side of her head and kissing her lips yet again; this time the kiss was a bit longer. She was yet again stunned at first, but then accepted it and kissed me back. The kiss would then turn into a 5 minutes making out session.
After we pulled away from the make out session, I somehow had the audacity to tease her. “I didn't expect this girl in front of me right now would tease me earlier by showing her bare pussy and cleavage.” I say, while giving a smirk towards her.
However, she surprises me by giving a smirk back towards me despite her flushed red cheeks. “Well oppa, I've planned this already. Donghoon oppa has told me about how you always hang out here, so I might wear this to seduce you.” She replies. “Besides, you love them do you, oppa?” She continues, while jiggling her covered tits.
I couldn't think straight as I was horny as fuck after all of the teasing from her, so I just nodded. This causes her to smirk more before removing the cardigan from her, which then later playing with the hem of the sports bra she's wearing.
“G-Gosh, stop teasing and just let me see your bare tits Chae.” I whine, which she obliges and pulls up her sports bra. This reveals her naked tits in which she jiggles it one more time towards me. I am amazed seeing her topless that lead me to pull down my pants and boxers in a single move which reveals my already hard dick.
“Oh oppa, such a big and hard dick you have. Let Chae help you relieve it, ok?” She says, before kneeling down and putting her hand around my dick before stroking it. I can only groan as she starts stroking my dick. Her hand feels so good all around it.
“Mmmmh, so soft, so good…” I say, to which she smirks even more. “Hehe, wait until what I'm going to do next, oppa.” She says. After a while, she removes her hand from my dick and replaces it with sandwiching my dick between her massive tits. This causes me to groan even more.
“Hehe, I knew it. You would definitely like this, oppa.” She chimes before starting to move her tits up and down, giving me a titfuck. I can only nod and groans coming out from my mouth are a bit louder. This excites her even more to which she licks the top of my dick that is able to emerge from her tits.
“Oh god Chae… You did wonder to me. Keep going, please.” I plead. This causes her smirk to grow even more and speeds up the titfucking. This results in me groaning even more.
After several minutes later, I started to feel that I'm feeling close to cumming. I believe that Chaehyun is also able to feel that I'm getting closer to ejaculation. However, just as I am about to cum, she releases her tits from wrapping around my dick, which causes me to groan in disappointment.
“C-Chae, why did you stop? I'm about to cum, and you know it too!!!” I whine. She giggles seeing my reaction before saying about it. “Oh oppa, I'll let you cum, but not on my tits. I want you to fill my pussy with it, oppa.�� Her statement makes me speechless. Just as I want to argue, she talks again. “...and if you worry about getting me pregnant, you don't have to, oppa. Us idols have to take birth control pills frequently to control our hormone levels and stabilize our period dates.”
I still feel a bit skeptical about this, like is she for real? She, a K-POP idol who is also my friend's little sister, wants me to fill her pussy with my cum. My mind still feels clogged after receiving what she just said.
Then, I get from my dazed situation to see Chaehyun pulling down the only clothing she had left, which is the skirt. After that, she walks towards the larger couch and lays on it before spreading her legs, showing me her wet, glistening pussy.
“Come on, just take me right now. I won't be mad, as I also want this for a very long time… Please fuck me oppa, or I guess, daddy…” She persuades me and emphasizes the word daddy. I don't know why, but her calling me daddy brings out the side of mine that I didn't even know existed.
I get onto the same couch she is laying onto, before I stroke my dick and line it with her entrance. “Are you sure you want this, Chae? Won't you regret it later?” I ask her, to which she nods before answering, “...yes daddy, I won't regret this whatsoever as I've been waiting for this. Now please, claim this pussy of mine as yours, daddy.”
And with her approval, I started to push my dick slowly into her pussy. This causes both of us to moan loudly, feeling the sensation. “Oh god Chae… Your pussy feels… so t-tight!!!” I exclaim.
“Mmmmh, yes daddy!!! Your dick feels so… mmmmh… big!!! Please daddy, start thrusting it inside me, make both of us cum!!!” She moans so loudly, I'm afraid the neighbours could hear it. After that, I pull my dick until the tip still remains in her before pushing it back, indicating the start of my thrusts.
Her moans just keep getting out from her mouth as I keep thrusting inside her. “G-Gosh, you moan so loudly, Chae. You really want the neighbours to know, hmm?” I say and ask. That question makes her giggle a little before answers, “...they don't call me… mmmmh… the main vocalist for nothing. Besides, daddy's dick hitting Chae’s spots inside me feels really good!!!”
I chuckle a little as I hear her calling herself Chae, so cute. As I continued thrusting inside her pussy, I couldn't pull my eyes from seeing her massive tits bouncing up and down as I continued with my thrusts. This makes me follow my instinct and put both of my hands onto them and start fondling and groping them, which causes her to moan even more and also whimper a little.
“Mmmmh, that's it daddy!! Fondle Chae's tits, or suck on it, I don't care.” She says. Of course, I won't miss the offer as I removed both of my hands from her tits and replaced it with my mouth, sucking on her two massive mounds, starting with her right tit, then her left. This makes her whimper a lot more.
Several minutes later, I could feel that my dick starts throbbing, indicating that I'm really close to cum. “Chae, I don't think that I could hold any longer, I'm so c-close. You sure you really want me to cum inside, C-Chae?” I state. This causes her to wrap her legs around my back really tightly in an instance, not letting me get away from her leg lock.
“Don't ever think about pulling out, daddy. Chae means it, Chae really wants it. So please, CUM! INSIDE! CHAE’S! PUSSY!!!” Knowing that me trying to fight back is futile and seeing that she's really serious, I just followed her request and after a few more thrusts later, I started to cum deeply inside her pussy. As my cum hits her pussy walls, it triggers her orgasm that causes her to cum all around my dick.
After a couple minutes later, both of us finished and relaxed from our respective orgasmic state. I react first by pulling my flaccid dick out from her pussy before sitting at the other end of the couch. I could see some globs of our mixed cums start to leak out from her. Then, I slowly pull her and make her straddle my lap. Both of us then smile at each other before having a sweet, slow yet passionate make out session.
After both me and Chaehyun finished our make out session, we heard the sound of the front door opening. Both of us turn our heads towards the door and see Donghoon staring at us, which makes us blush in embarrassment. There's also the sense of fear and guilt as I am afraid he will scold me for screwing his little sister. However, instead of anger, he gives us a sneaky grin.
“Hehehe, seems like the ship has finally sailed. Congratulations, you two.” He says. This causes Chaehyun to blush even more while me being confused and distraught. The thing I've had in mind after what he just said is, ‘How long has this bastard been shipping me and his little sister?’
P/S: If someone's been waiting for my fics, sorry for make you guys waiting. Hope you all like this
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don't get cut on my edges || gojo satoru x reader
synopsis: Gojo is easily bored, you're the latest enigma that's caught his interest. He sets off in trying to figure you out. Lucky for him, you're coming on the week-end trip Shoko's planned for the week-end.
“Was I off script?”
You look up at him.
“You’re always off script.”
word count: 5.4k
genre: college!AU, fluff, slice of life
cw: unresolved sexual and romantic tension, reader has anxiety and is socially awkward, she/her is used for the reader, a little suggestive, overall very sweet and fluffy
a/n: this was fun to write! any feedback is appreciated, and i hope you enjoy my writing here :)
soundtrack
Gojo knows that people talk, knows that they talk shit, knows that there isn’t a soul on campus that doesn’t have an opinion on him. He can tell that eyes follow him around when he walks into a room, that his presence is enough to shift the atmosphere at a gathering, that some people roll their eyes at him while others try their best to catch his attention. It’s a lot to take in, for just one person.
Fortunately, he’s proved to be incredibly gifted in the art of not giving a fuck.
Then again, he’s incredibly gifted in most areas of life. Truth be told, he thinks people aren’t giving him enough credit for that. Sure, they tend to know that he’s a physics major, but that’s just tangential to what they know about the rest of him. He’s not just kinda good at physics, not some dude that goes to college mostly for the parties and then get a meaningless job at daddy’s company, no, he’s the fucking best, and he works fucking hard to be able to claim that title.
But that doesn’t really fit in with the rest of him, and at the end of the day, who cares? He certainly doesn’t.
With all that, it’s not statistically unlikely for him to catch people talking about him.
Well, he’d have to conduct a detailed study to calculate the exact odds, but with how much alcohol is in his blood at this very moment, it makes sense to him that it would happen.
Still, for people to be talking about him at a party he is at, in front of an open window, you’d think they would have some sense of shame. Not that he has any room to talk, because shame is not part of his vocabulary, but like. Come on.
“Gojo really can’t take not being in the spotlight for more than ten seconds, huh?”
That voice, he’s quick to identify, even if he can’t see her face from where’s he’s standing under the porch, belongs to Mei Mei. Aw. Bummer. They’d spent quite a lot of time around each other, have friends in common, slept— Wait, have they slept together? He can’t say for sure anymore. It seems to have slipped from his mind. Oops. Maybe that’s why he’s getting that treatment. Maybe he deserves it.
There’s a scoff, and really, the acoustic of this place are impressive. It feels like he’s straight in the room with those people.
“What else do you expect from someone who’s always had everything served to him on a silver platter?”
And that would be Noritoshi Kamo. Man. That was one of the few kids in the families his parents insisted on frequenting. They used to be sat next to each other at the kiddie table while the adults talked about the important stuff. They never had much in common — not then, not now. And, after all, maybe Noritoshi has a point, after all. His mother wasn’t a mistress, wasn’t turned into an outcast, and he’s never had to pretend he didn’t hear the loud whispers that tarnished her name. Yeah. Sounds like these two aren’t saying anything new after all. Not that he’s gonna change, y’know, but he already knows who he is, and he is all that.
“That seems like a very mean thing to say about a friend,” a quiet voice comments.
The world freezes.
A silhouette appears to go along with the voice, then a blurry face, then the picture becomes clearer. A figure sitting next to Shoko, giving him sweet, polite smiles when he approaches. Not chatty, kinda shy, pretty cute. Would get quiet when he was near, though, so he hadn’t paid a ton of attention. He’s used to giving it to people who asked for it, who wanted it.
You’d never asked.
But you’re… not wrong. He’s not sure why he hadn’t picked up on it himself. It is a mean thing to say.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Mei Mei protests, “I love Gojo, but you know I’m right about this.”
“Yeah, and I’ve known him my whole life,” Kamo adds. “It’s just a fact, we’re not talking shit.”
There’s a silence. Gojo’s invested now.
“I don’t know him that well,” you say. “Like I said. It’s just a mean thing to say about someone you hang out with every day.”
“Come on, don’t act like—”
“I think I’m going to go, actually,” you say. “This feels super shitty.”
“What the fuck was that?” Mei Mei laughs, just a second later — presumably after you’ve left the room.
“She wants to fuck him, I guess,” Kamo says.
Well, you’re making one hell of a headway then, because he’d do you so hard after that.
When he walks back in, you’re chatting with Shoko. You give him your usual, close-lipped smile, don’t quite make eye-contact. If you’re trying to get in his pants, you have a very original way of getting it done.
“Who was your friend again?” he asks Shoko, later that night. She answers without looking up from her phone.
“She doesn’t talk much when there are new people around,” she warns him. “Leave her alone.”
“When have I ever bothered anyone—”
She reaches to smack the back of his head, misses and gets the nape of his neck — that’s the downside about being so tall, there’s just a lot of him to hit.
“Don’t make her uncomfortable. That’s all I’m asking.”
He wasn’t planning on that. He’s just— curious. Intrigued.
It’s unlikely to last, though. He’s been known to get bored easily.
You’re already in the car when he gets in. Well, okay, when he gets shoved inside by Todo, despite his protests that his legs are too long for the backseat. You’ve squeezed yourself in the middle seat, with Shoko on one side, and him on the other now. There’s a bag of snacks in your lap, yet you still try to shift yourself to give him a little more room. It doesn’t help at all, but in your defense, the only thing that could help would be to buy a new car.
“Is everyone ready?” Suguru asks as he adjusts the rearview mirror.
“Sure,” Shoko says.
“Let’s go!” Todo shouts.
“No,” Gojo whines.
“Yeah,” you say, completely drowned out under the rest.
“Good,” Suguru hums as he starts the engine.
Gojo pouts, but he doesn’t insist. Well, he doesn’t make any more of a scene than he already has. Truth be told, he could have taken Todo — dude might be all brute force, but Gojo has brains and brawns, thank you very much.
But he’s curious, still, and he hasn’t been given enough information to quite satiate his curiosity. Everything he’s gathered about you says that you mind your business and keep to your corner.
So why did you say that to Mei Mei and Kamo? It makes no sense, but Gojo’s never met an equation he couldn’t solve.
That’s an overstatement. Obviously there are equations he can’t solve. Yet. He’s sure he’d figure it out eventually. Like he’ll figure you out. See? That metaphor does make sense.
Suguru’s music is playing in the car. The sun is still low in the sky, the day is quickly getting warmer, and the phone says that they’ll be at the beach in two hours.
Satoru closes his eyes. Fun fact about him? He can fall asleep anywhere he wants to.
He wakes up with his face smooshed against the window, a hand tapping his shoulder carefully.
“We’re here,” you say, giving him a smile and then shuffling to leave the car from the other side.
Todo’s already running towards the beach, while Suguru and Shoko are getting the bags out of the trunk. Somehow, Shoko manages to sling a bag over his shoulder, but he takes off before she can stuff the cool box containing all the drinks in his arms.
He then lies to Todo to get him back to the car, so that he can carry the damn thing. Shoko better thank him later for that.
He catches up with you, and he sees your eyes widen a little when he approaches, as you visibly search for something to say. He can’t resist the temptation to shoot you a grin. There’s a light breeze in the air, but he won’t be fooled that easily — with his skin, he’s going to need an insane amount of sunscreen, if he wants to survive the day. Which makes him think, actually—
“Wanna help me apply sunscreen?” he asks.
“Huh?” you say.
He leans towards you, looks into your eyes from over his sunglasses. You appear to be fully frozen in place, only swallowing once as he gets closer. His grin gets wider as he takes in all of you, and he’s once more fascinated by the idea that you had been able to say something to Mei Mei and Kamo but you can barely face him.
His gaze drops to your parted lips.
Then the bottle of sunscreen smashes against his cheek with impressive precision.
“Todo can help you put that on!” Shoko offers as Suguru starts setting up a parasol. “Right, Todo?”
“Of course I will, my brother,” Todo say as he appears, but by then, Satoru has already started running for his life.
“Just kick him in the balls if he pulls something like that again,” Shoko says.
“Oh, no, it’s fine,” you reply, shaking your head in mild horror. “I just— I don’t— know— how to react sometimes. But he doesn’t bother me.”
That statement has her raising an eyebrow at you, filled with doubt, but she doesn’t insist.
“Play nice,” she does warn Satoru once more, later on. “Don’t push it too much.”
“Aw, Shoko, are you saying you wouldn’t approve of me?”
“Do whatever you want to,” she replies, rolling her eyes, “but give her more space. She’s not used to you being… you.”
Satoru rests his chin on his knee. He’s taking refuge under the parasol for now, and you’re already in the waves with Todo and Suguru. You seem comfortable with Todo, laughing at something he said, less so with Suguru. It all looks like a lot of work, all to satiate his curiosity. He’s all about committing to the bit but— he doesn’t know about that one.
This, too, all this thinking and questioning, is a lot of work, though, so he ends up shrugging it off.
“Are we getting in or what?”
“Absolutely not. No— Gojo— Don’t you fucking dare— Gojo!”
Shoko’s full-on shrieking by the time he throws her in the water. You burst out laughing. She comes out screaming for revenge, and Gojo starts scampering around to try and avoid her.
The sun is high in the sky, there’s a light breeze.
The time is good.
“Satoru!” Suguru calls when the watch on his wrist starts beeping, “it’s been two hours!”
It takes a second for the information to reach his brain, but the second he understands it, Gojo’s sprinting back towards the parasol at full speed. You look up, surprised, from the towel on which you’re lying with a book. Shoko doesn’t even bother with lifting an eyelid to see what’s going on.
“You okay?” you ask.
Ah, so she does speak.
“Yeah,” Gojo says, ruffling through a bag. “Just need to reapply some sunscreen. I’m not trying to look like a lobster.”
“Oh,” you say, “so, did you want me to help you with that?”
His fingers finally close around the bottle, and he stills to look at you. Shit. He’s curious again. Shoko’s words are swirling around in his mind, though, and he has no interest in forcing your hand.
“You didn’t look like you wanted to do that,” he says with uncharacteristic caution.
You roll your lips together, glance away from him, and your hand curls into a fist in the sand.
“No, it’s just— Um, I’m sorry about earlier. You— caught me off guard, I guess. I couldn’t figure out what to answer.”
“I usually just go with whatever appears through my head first,” he shrugs as he comes to crouch in front of you — you in the sun, him in the shade.
You laugh softly, but you avert your eyes, focusing on the sand as you trace patterns in it.
“Yeah, I think that’s the preferred method, but it— doesn’t— really work for me. So I have— I have a script, kind of, for interactions.”
“And I was off script?”
You glance back up at him.
“You’re always off script.”
For a moment, he just looks into your eyes, and you look back without any of that earlier nervousness. Then you shrink back into yourself, and the smile that so rarely leaves your lips reappears, like a shield that comes back up.
“Sorry. I know— I know how silly this sounds. I also wish I didn’t feel the need to do that, I just, um—”
“All good,” he replies with a shrug. “Sure. Help me with that.”
He throws you the bottle and you miss it, and he can feel you eyerolling at his back without needing to turn around, but when he shoots you a grin from over his shoulder, he can see how your breath catches in your throat.
Softly, your hand goes over his back, your touch gentle and cautious. It feels quite nice, actually, especially when your nails brush over his skin.
“It’s not too cold?” you ask.
“All good,” he repeats.
Shit. He’s invested again.
“Okay, we have the tickets, we have the water bottles, we have the hats, we have flat shoes, we have Gojo, we have the car keys—”
“I’m sorry, why was I just in the middle of a list of belongings?”
“We have cellphones and portable batteries… I think we’re good,” Shoko concludes, fully ignoring him.
“You don’t think we’re just a touch overprepared?” Suguru asks.
“You can never overprepare, my brother,” Todo says, grabbing his shoulder firmly. “If you want to triumph in the face of adversity, you need to know everything about the enemy.”
Suguru opens his mouth, closes it again. He knows how to pick his battles.
Gojo doesn’t.
“We’re going to a festival, not trying to breech the Pentagon,” he deadpans, and then, from the corner of his eye, he tries to see if you’re laughing. He delights in how you lower your head and try to keep it discreet.
“You never know what—”
“If I have to hear a second more of this nonsense, I swear to God I’ll kill someone here,” Shoko announces cheerfully. “Let’s move.”
Finally, after a good fifteen minutes by the door of the Airbnb you’ve all spent the night in, you start moving.
The good news is that you don’t have to get in the car, in the smothering heat, to get on the overcrowded streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. The bad news is that you have to walk there, in the smothering heat, near the streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. Suguru’s in charge of the map, which everyone seems happy with. Gojo had offered to do it, too, and there’s not a shred of doubt that he’d be able to read it competently, but Shoko had insisted the risk of him taking everyone to the wrong place ‘just because it would be funny’ was too high.
She’d been right but like, that was still rude.
The march in the heat and the waiting in line, while painful and unpleasant, as Gojo makes sure everyone around him is well aware of, go pretty smooth. Everything is planned and accounted for. There’s a game plan once they make it into the festival, too, because of course there is, but that’s when things start going south. First, Todo tries to go rogue when he spots someone wearing Takada merch. She’s not performing here, but he’s heard rumors that there would be a stand for her, and he lurches towards the woman. He’d get lost in the crowd immediately if not for Gojo’s lightning fast reflexes.
Unfortunately, soon enough it’s Gojo’s turn to get distracted. What can he say, there’s the smell of sugar in the air, and he needs to know where it’s coming from. Suguru’s the one to get him back on track, as they all head towards the main stage. Because that’s what Shoko’s grand plan leads to: sweet, sweet, close-up spots to watch the Sorcerers, headliners for the festival and also unarguably greatest band of all times, with minimum wait before their show.
There are a couple other close calls, but the group manages to get close enough to the stage. There are people here already, but they’re here for other artists mostly, and they’ll no doubt move quite a bit before the start of the real show. From where they are, even you and Shoko will be able to— Wait a minute.
“Huh,” Gojo say. “Hey, Shoko, do you happen to see (y/n) around?”
“If you can’t see her from up there, why would you think I— Fuck.”
“A fallen soldier,” Todo sighs somberly. “Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for—"
“We should go get her,” Shoko interrupts him. She’s biting her lower lip, staring at her phone. She looks quite worried, Gojo notices as he stares at her.
“Why isn’t it enough to just text her?” Gojo asks. It’s not ideal, and it won’t be easy to find the group in the middle of this sea of people, but it’s not impossible.
“I just— I don’t know if she’ll want to deal with all that” she gestures at the crowd “alone. I’m afraid she’ll say she doesn’t mind and then she won’t have a good time.”
Gojo tilts his head. It wouldn’t cross his mind to say something he doesn’t mean. It’s an incredibly weird thought, actually. But Shoko’s better than him at, well, people, and she might have a point. He also doesn’t want you to have a bad time, after all. With one last glance at the stage, he nods at her.
“I’ll go get her.”
“Are you sure?” Suguru asks. “I can go, if you want me to. It’s your band.”
As if it isn’t his, too. But Gojo shrugs. His attention span is fleeting, and he’s got his sights on something else right now.
“Nah, don’t worry. I’ll make it back.”
“Thanks,” Shoko says sincerely.
He waves vaguely at her before making his way back through the crowd, earning his fair share of nasty glances. He still doesn’t care.
A few minutes later, he receives a text from Shoko with a screengrab where you say you’re getting something to eat. Sure enough, he has no trouble finding you waiting in line. You’re typing on your phone, not paying attention to your surroundings, and he’s grinning already. He lets himself half fall on you, arm wrapping around your body as he drops his chin onto your shoulder. You jump, glancing back bewildered, but you don’t stay tense long once you see it’s him.
Which makes him feel things, actually, but he’ll unpack that later.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, brow furrowing. “I thought you guys would be in front of the stage by now.”
“I came to rescue the princess, obviously,” he says, and you laugh. You laugh a lot when he talks, instead of rolling your eyes like people usually do.
Maybe you’re a bit too good of an audience.
“I don’t need rescuing, Gojo,” you answer, and it’s interesting how calm your voice is. “It’s packed too tight for me in here. I told Shoko but…” You shrug. “It’s not always easy to understand how it is. For me.”
“Yeah,” he says. “I don’t get it at all.”
Your shoulder’s pretty comfortable, though. And you haven’t tried to get him off of you yet.
“Do you want to order something, too?” you ask, pointing at the food stand. They sell waffles, and just the smell has his mouth watering. “Strawberries and whipped cream, right?”
Gojo pauses.
“How do you know that?”
“You’ve mentioned it. A few times, actually.”
He’s sure he has, but—
“You were listening to that?”
You blink at him. He realizes how close your face is, with his head on your shoulder.
“Of course I was. You were talking.”
“Shoko didn’t tell you? It’s like, rule number one of being around me, don’t listen to the stuff I say. There’s a lot of dumb shit in there.”
You tilt your head, looking kind of confused.
“I still want to hear what you’re saying.”
Something inside him feels warm all of a sudden. Very warm.
“Yeah,” he says, but his throat is tight. “Strawberries and whipped cream.”
When you step forward to they can take your order, he begrudgingly gets off your shoulder, which allows him to swipe his card before you can get to it.
“I had that,” you protest while he bites into the insane amount of whipped cream in his waffle — he asked for more until the guy behind the counter looked like he was going to murder him.
“I had it first,” he says, and then he sticks his tongue out at you. He anticipates your laugh this time, finds himself waiting on it. When it comes, it sounds just like he wanted it to.
For a while, the two of you sit on a fence. You hand him a water bottle, say that he needs to stay hydrated. With no one else around, you don’t seem to have such a hard time speaking. You’re so quiet when everyone’s there and, well, him and Todo take up a lot of space, when it comes to conversation. Neither Suguru nor Shoko struggle with making their voices heard either, and in the middle of all that, you tend to stay silent. Apparently, that doesn’t stop you from listening.
“Shouldn’t you be going back?” you ask, after a while.
Gojo tilts his head as he thinks about it.
“Nah, I’m good. Let’s find some place where you can enjoy the show.”
“You don’t have to—”
A grin, and then he’s jumping from the fence to come stand in front of you. Even like that, he doesn’t have to look up to meet your eyes.
“And how d’you plan on stopping me?”
Your eyes go wide. He can almost hear your heart racing, and he thinks he’s starting to get a little too high on that feeling. It’s just so easy, so fun, so delicious.
“Okay,” you squeak, averting your eyes and jumping down after him, clearly trying to hide your reaction. “Okay, I’m coming.”
When you start walking by his side, grabbing your hand is just too easy not to do it.
“Wouldn’t want you to run away again,” is what he says as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “Now you’re stuck with me.”
You still refuse to look at him, but there is no actual discomfort in your reaction, just what he thinks is uncertainty about how you’re supposed to behave now.
“Have I gone off script again?” he practically purrs.
You glance up, a flash of amusement on your face. Lots of fondness, too, and this time he’s the one who gets caught up in it.
“You haven’t been on script once today.”
“Good,” he says, managing to pass off the emotion that just choked him for a second there as impatience. “Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.”
“I’m always on my toes,” you mumble behind him, but you can’t explain to him what anxiety feels like, so you just let him drag you away. His fingers are long, his hand engulfs yours easily. You like the feeling of it more than you should.
Your eyes are on Gojo’s broad back as he pulls you through the crowd, which parts effortlessly for him. You’re enjoying this.
You don’t think it’s going to last.
Gojo doesn’t think about that though, just like he rarely thinks about tomorrows. What he’s thinking about, as he keeps far, far away from the stage, is how to find a place with enough air around for the two of you. It’s easy for him to get a good look at the stage, and he earns his fair share of pissed off glares — “Seriously, it should be illegal to come to an open-air stage when you’re that tall” — but it takes more work to get the perfect space for you. Finally, his eagle eyes figure out some place that’s just perfect, and he beelines for it with you in tow.
“There,” he says, pulling you in front of him and putting his head on top of yours, just to check that the line of sight is good enough.
Ha. He nailed it.
“Thanks,” you say. There’s surprise in your tone.
“Is this a good spot for you?” he checks, but really, he just wants to hear you praise him?
“It is, but— I thought you said you didn’t get it? My—” You gesture vaguely. “—struggle. With all that stuff.”
Oh right. You actually listen to what he says. He needs to keep that in mind for the future.
“Does it matter?” he asks with a shrug.
You stare. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out, and then the crowd starts absolutely howling and you spin around to see the Sorcerersget on the stage. Whatever moment there was there, is forgotten right away. He sees you fish in your bag for your phone, then raise it over your head and tiptoe around, trying to get a good photo.
It’s cute, it’s adorable even, but it’s not very efficient.
“Do you want some help here?” he asks, leaning close to your ear so you can hear him over all the noise.
Your body shivers into him, and he files that away for later.
“Um, yeah,” you shout over the noise. “Here, could you—”
But he pays no attention to the way you offer him your cellphone, and instead he’s bending down, and ignoring your surprised protest as he pushes his head between your legs.
He bench presses a hell of a lot more than he looks like he does, for the record.
With a grunt, he manages to get you up on his shoulders, and some people behind him complain loudly, but whatever, they can wait for you to get the perfect picture. You struggle to stabilize yourself for a dangerous second, and then you stop moving around for a second. Your thighs are supple and warm under his hands and around his head.
One more thing to remember.
“I’m good, I’m good, get me down,” you say quickly, just as he’s storing the thought away.
You seem relieved when your feet get back on the ground, and Satoru lets his hands linger on your waist.
“Was it a nice pic?” he asks. He knows he’s all red in the face, but he’s grinning so wide it almost hurts, actually.
“Perfect,” you squeak. “Thank you. Again.”
Aw. He’s going to get used to that word real quick.
A familiar guitar riff comes from the stage, and you turn away from him once more, but his hands are still on your waist. He uses that to pull you against him and this time, you don’t hesitate to let yourself lean back against him as the two of you move in rhythm with the music.
The concert is a blur after that. There’s a lot of singing, a lot of screaming, basically no time to catch a breath, because the Sorcerers are fucking beasts that don’t let up, not even for a second. At some point, you tell him something, but he can’t really hear, so you crane your neck back and he lowers his head. Your lips brush against his neck, an accident really, but it sends such a jolt of electricity through him, he thinks he’ll go into full overdrive.
The only thing that stops him from chasing after your lips immediately after that is Shoko’s voice, going around in his mind. ‘Don’t push it.’ What the fuck was that supposed to mean?
You move away, and he still has no clue what you were saying. If after that, his hands hold your hips a little tighter, if he pulls you a little closer, he can’t be blamed. If, during one of the more sulfurous song of the show, as you’re swaying against him, humming along to the song, his lips find your neck, he doesn’t want to hear about it.
When he presses a kiss right by your jaw, you turn to look at him. You’re pretty. He’s always thought you were pretty.
Fuck Shoko, he thinks, and he’s ready to put his mouth on yours, to slide his tongue between your parted lips that have looked so inviting this entire week-end, when the riff of the band’s most popular song starts playing, and he loses you attention once more.
Cock-blocked by his favorite band. Fuck his life.
When the song ends, there’s movement in the crowd as the band gets off the stage and people start chanting for an encore. In Shoko’s fool proof, perfect plan, this is when you’re supposed to start leaving. Gojo doesn’t want to — how is he supposed to do anything about how much he wants his mouth on you once you’re back with the other — but this time you grab his hand and pull him away from the stage and he has even less of a clue of what he’s supposed to do about that.
You get to the meeting point before Shoko, Todo and Suguru, which makes sense, considering you were much further from the stage than them. It’s a specific pole that Shoko had pointed to as you were first getting in, and the urge to push you against it and to taste your lips is strong. Gojo isn’t typically one to ignore that kind of feeling. He just goes for it, doesn’t let his brain get in the way too much. He’s not sure what it is with you and your doe eyes and your sweet smile that makes him act different.
Whatever it is, it makes him ask “Did you have a good time?” instead of kissing you senseless behind the pole while watching to make sure Shoko doesn’t catch him in the act.
“It was amazing,” you say. “I don’t think— I don’t think I’d have gotten that close without you.”
“Did I force your hand?” he asks, frowning.
“No, no, that was great, actually.” And there it comes, his favorite words, and then he’ll kiss you. “Thank—”
“There you guys are!”
You have got to be kidding him. The Gods of timing are so set against him, he must have done something to piss them off badly in another life.
“Okay, we should start heading towards the exit,” Shoko announces.
“Nah, we ‘re staying until the end,” Gojo says, burying his hands, balled into fists, in his pockets. He’s being needlessly belligerent, but whatever, she deserves it, whether she knows it or not.
“Don’t be a dick,” she glares.
He smiles at her. And he doesn’t budge.
“We’ll run,” you say, stepping in. “I’m sure we can still beat the crowd if we run.”
She narrows her eyes at you, then at Gojo.
“You’re a bad influence, you know that?”
So many delicious thoughts coming to him, and he can’t do anything about it. Damn it all.
Of course, it ends with the five of you sprinting on the lawn and all the way back to the house. Of course, he doesn’t catch five seconds with you after that. Of course, your face is on his mind the whole night.
Of course, because it’s just his luck, isn’t it, in the morning, Shoko tells him you had to catch a flight early in the morning.
“I told you, don’t you remember? She’s going back to her family for the summer.”
Of course, he doesn’t.
Ah, whatever. It bothers him for a minute, but then the day continues unfolding, and the sun’s warm, it’s the peak of summer, and he only really knew you for a couple of days. He’ll see how he feels about it when college starts up again in the fall. He’s not known for sticking with things, anyway. He’ll probably forget; you probably won’t capture him again like you did; it was probably a fluke.
That, or these will become famous last words.
sequel
thank you so much for reading! i had a ton of fun writing gojo's pov and i hope you enjoyed it too, even if i'm still finding his voice :) please reblog or comment if you've enjoyed this, i'd love to hear from you! getting readers' feedback on my writing is what keeps me motivated to write so if you'd like to read more from me, that's the way to do it!
tagging the people who expressed interest in this: @elidebrey @xstom @chosospookiebear @xmysticredx
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo fluff#jjk fluff#jjk x you#my writing#gojo imagine#jjk imagine#jjk x y/n
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today, mar 25 2024, a woman came into my red hardware store and dumped her bag of returns on my counter. she said "i have a fucking return. it's all coming the fuck back. i don't need any of this fucking stuff" and i was instantly on edge because she's being loud and every other word was another f-bomb. and i GET IT i get swearing, i get being angry, but why the hell are you upset with me lol
i looked at the pile of stuff and was like "oh did you buy this yesterday?" because i recognized the pile of items as things that i had personally rung up at some point. it's a bunch of electrical stuff like outlet covers and some solenoids or wtv. but god i shouldn't've said anything. because she snaps "No what the fuck. i bought this fucking weeks ago. and i dont fucking need it. so i'm returning it"
and i'm like.. damn ok, fine. she's digging for receipts. and has a huge stack of Orange Hardware store receipts. and i'm watching her flip through them and she snaps "go ahead and grab yours if you recognize it!" and i'm like 'uh.. ok i'm pretty sure that my store's receipt is this one' and i pointed at one (idk if its just the font but i recognized my store's receipt and yoinked it out.
so i start processing her return. she's like "ugh i need to go get my card from the car!" and i'm like ok, that's fine. she doesn't really need it for the return but 1) i want her to get away from me because i'm gonna call a manager she's being such an asshole. 2) her friend was looking for other stuff to buy.
she comes back in with her card. i'm like scanning and returning the items. 3 items i KNOW are NOT ours are on the pile. im like.. i don't want to deal with her trying to insist that they belong to our store. but i scan one. it beeps 'item not found' i go 'oh well these items aren't from our store, sorry i can't return them"
and she's like "i dont see how that's fucking possible! everything in that bag is from this fucking store!" and she's just absolutely shrieking. and i don't understand why she's mad, like i don't get it. the manager came up and was like 'we don't sell this product. sorry we can't do a return on it.'
she screams some more but accepts that they must be Orange Hardware and not Red Hardware. She goes out to "make a call while her friend shops"
and i swear to god that she was screaming at someone on the phone for next fourteen minutes and everyone inside the store could hear her from the parking lot. every other word out of this woman's mouth was "fuck" and it was setting my nerves on edge.
her friend finally came up to buy his shit. and it totals $77. she's standing at the door handing him her visa and she is PISSED that the total is $77. she says she doesn't understand how it could add up to that much. and im like uhmmmm.. they're plumping parts.. and the stupid toys you're buying for your grandkids pushed the total to $77 after tax.. either buy it or leave. i don't care
she ended up buying it but you could still hear her swearing up and down the parking lot as she was screaming on the phone with her mother (apparently) saying that she was going to need to be reimbursed for the shit she was buying
and i'm just like... goddamn, i dont care how awful your day is. don't take it out on employees or customers you asshat.
the only funny part about this is the fact that her name was actually Karen. which just made me laugh. but all the other staff had come up to the front to make sure i was okay while she was yelling. and she did get intimidated by some of the men and slink out while her friend paid for the stuff. but still.. a big yikes.
Posted by admin Rodney.
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hello! I am the person who requested that reader with a cat who likes the boys a lot if u remember that request.
may I request (if ur not uncomfortable with it) some period comfort with an afab!reader (they/them pls) just taking care and helping reader with their period? if it's not too much can u also include reader sleeping a lot and craving lots of food (typical ik) and how reader just gets mad rlly easily.
characters: bi-han, syzoth, shang tsung, kenshi, raiden and liu kang
thank u and have a good day :) (smiling through the pain)
author note: I'm super late, but I suppose it's better than never. Hope you'll like these! Link to the cat post
Kenshi Takahashi:
-He…He can smell when you are on your period.
-Actually Kenshi can even tell when it is coming so he is always ready with food when it finally comes.
-He tries to keep your pelvis warm and treat you softly since your body gets sore way more easily.
-Kenshi goes a bit insane when you're ovulating, so now he is more calm and soft.
-He'll try to make your mean comments slide, but it is hard for him, so it's better not to exaggerate, or Kenshi will snap back.
Raiden:
-Really sweet and understand your needs.
-But Raiden won't be a sticky boyfriend. He has work to do and won't take a day off.
-When he finally understands how this period works for you, he will be prepared for the next one.
-Your fave food? Check.
Warm beverages? Check.
Cover and 3 different kinds of movies to match your current mood? Check.
-When Raiden gets home tho he is all for you. He likes to put you in his arms and draw circles on your hand, waiting for you to fall asleep on his chest.
-Mean words are nothing to him. A king of taking the hit and making it slide off him.
Liu Kang:
-"You bastard! Couldn't you erase menstruation while creating this world?" You whine into his arms, cramps making you curl in his body.
"Would you rather lay eggs, dear one?" Liu Kang replies, with a smile on his face, forefinger lifting your chin up to make you look into his brilliant eyes.
"You are just a meanie." You snap back, pushing his face away from yours, making a laughter blossom in his throat.
-He tries not to make you eat too much junk food, but he'll back off when you look at him with fury in your eyes.
-His body is better than any cover.
Bi-Han:
-I'm sorry, but he would be pretty cold.
-He was raised in a way that even if you were dying, you should take care of yourself without the help of anybody, so at max, he'll send your way a doctor.
-Bi-Han has to work A LOT on being a normal human. He really doesn't know how to work around normal feelings that are outside his field of work.
-And the future grandmaster lessons he has been given as a kid never focused on helping his partner out. It is already much that he decided who to be with.
-Bi-Han probably knows very little about how menstruation works, mostly because they taught him not to care about other people and just think about how to be the perfect Lin Kuei's leader.
-First work on making him act as a decent human, then Bi-Han will even make you a special tea to make your cramps less painful.
-And if you look particularly pitiful he may snuck junk food too…
Syzoth:
-The first time he saw you losing blood, he panicked because "Why are you losing blood?!?!"
-After you explain how things work, Syzoth will let out a breath of relief.
-Surprisingly, he understands pretty well that losing blood is a pain, so he doesn't mind following your order like a butler.
-Syzoth is gonna snuggle under the covers with you, btw.
-Not used to you being mean tho, even if he understands you aren't fine, he still takes those words personally.
Shang Tsung:
-Actually, he'd make a potion to make your cramps fade.
-But he doesn't do anything for nothing…are you ready to try his next experiments? Maybe the potion isn't as safe as he says.
-Shang Tsung satisfies your cravings, but don't nag too much, or he'll get annoyed.
-Also, don't be mean, or he will snap back, then you'll start to cry, and actually Shang Tsung has a weakness: your tears. Then he'll have to try to make you stop, but sadly, another mean word slips…it's an endless cycle that makes him think just "Hope this will end soon."
#mk x reader#mk1 x reader#mortal kombat x reader#mk headcanons#mk1 headcanons#mortal kombat headcanons#kenshi takahashi#kenshi x reader#liu kang#liu kang x reader#mk1 raiden#raiden x reader#bi han#bi han x reader#mk reptile#reptile x reader#syzoth#syzoth x reader#shang tsung#shang tsung x reader
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having a crush on you
summary: how they would act having a crush on you
type of post: headcanons
characters: pomefiore (vil, rook, epel)
additional info: reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, not proofread, hi I'm insane and I love pining, I NEED to write another fic but with rook. might write this same prompt with other dorms
𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭
don't take his calm and collected facade as apathy
he's slowly losing his mind about this
"pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself, falling asleep thinking about you" kind of losing his mind
it's my personal belief that Vil hasn't been in love before this
hasn't even really thought about it
so when you enter the picture it kinda throws him off balance
and with the exception of Rook, no one can even tell
he is an actor, after all, he can play the part of "totally platonic friends with room for Jesus"
(maybe a little too well)
but Vil isn't entirely emotionally repressed
he keeps things to himself, yes, but he's quite conscious of his own wants and needs
so when he realizes he's been craving your presence more than usual he does acknowledge it
in his head
and then does nothing about it for months
...what? he's busy
things like this can wait for him, and he doesn't want to put a rift between you two in case it might be a passing feeling
well... it doesn't pass
he becomes keenly aware of how much he wants you around him, how much he thinks about you, how much your very presence is enough to make him happier than he's ever... really felt
and you know what?
he is totally cool about it.
just kidding. he drives himself insane trying to think of the perfect way to confess, something that will impress you and meet his standards
he's dropping hints left and right and you don't seem to be picking any of them up
which again, just makes him crazy
(some days he really wants to ask you how oblivious one person can be, but he restrains himself)
I mean, how many times can he send you red tulips before you finally get the hint? he's practically spelling it out for you!
there is... a tiny, little part of him that worries you don't reciprocate
is he not your type? are you interested in someone else? perhaps he'd been too harsh on you, after all...
the fact that one little potato can make him so worried absolutely drives him mad
he is the vision of poise and grace and you are ruining him
and this sort of mood comes and goes in waves
just when he thinks he's pulled himself back together, you'll smile at him or say something cute and suddenly he's back to square one
(you're so adorable it's annoying -_-)
while he's sorting out a good way to express his feelings properly, he'll be spending all his free time with you
you need some new things? he'll be glad to take you shopping
you came over to see Epel? oh, well, he's not here, but you should stay for some tea, anyway!
your afternoon is free? he has some new lip gloss he's been dying to test out...
𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭
contrary to popular belief, I don't think Rook would be so open about it
he still compliments you, of course, and sings praises of your beauty and elegance, and has little regard for personal space, as always
but he's like that with a lot of people, so it's hard to really tell when he likes someone
the truth of the matter is that Rook Hunt can be just as reserved with his feelings as anyone else
when he really, really likes someone, he keeps it to himself
why?
he's hunting you he's learning more about you before making his true feelings known
he feels it's necessary to have an adequate amount of information on his target before making a move, after all
for reference: you catch his eye at orientation, and do not have a single conversation with him until after winter break
(of course, after that, you start mysteriously running into him everywhere)
is he kinda weird about it? uh. yeah.
this is Rook we're talking about
on the other hand, he's completely lovesick about you and it's almost cute
he's definitely the type to write your initials in a journal with a glitter pen while kicking his feet back and forth and giggling
seeing if you would sound better with his last name or he with yours...
definitely has a very weird photo collection of you somewhere in his room
along with stacks of poems, pressed flowers, and little gifts he intends to give you once he's won you over
(when, not if. Rook is nothing if not patient)
you may find a rose left outside Ramshackle every so often
or a few cans of tuna for Grim
all while acting like the same old eccentric Rook, no discernable difference
except when you can feel his eyes on you at random places in the middle of the day
Ace and Deuce call you paranoid but you can't shake the feeling
though, every once in a while he'll get a little grumpy
Rook is easily jealous, and while that sort of possessiveness never extended to untouchable idols like Vil and Neige, he's already decided that you're his prey
and he'd kindly ask everyone else to find their own, thank you
he hasn't exactly planned the confession yet, but just know it's probably going to be the sweetest and craziest you've ever heard
𝐄𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐫
first of all he's going to fight you for making him like you so much
second of all he's going to beg for a chance
maybe not in that exact order
Epel is constantly at war with his own emotions and having romance thrown in the mix is. uh. not optimal
not only does it ruin the stoic, strong male persona he's been trying to build, but it's also making him feel all soft and gushy
suddenly he cares about looking nice
(much to Vil's approval)
and now he wants to do nice things for you?
he's gonna bite you
how dare you make him think about kissing and holding hands!
don't you know he's supposed to be above all this romantic stuff? what is he, Rook?!
then, after his initial temper tantrum, he starts coping. hard.
he might be able to stomach the idea of being an item if he gets to wear the pants in the relationship
...yeah, right? right.
if you let him be the man, if you let him protect you...
he might be okay with it!
obviously he starts trying to show off his manly strength (seriously) every time he sees you
starts making comments about how tough practice was on him
will literally never let anyone else carry anything for you ever again
he even provides for you (in payments of apple juice)
obviously this backfires 'cause the second you do something that gives him butterflies he's back to giggling
(you'll have to ease him into the idea of being soft and romantic together, but he'll get there)
but, to his credit, he'd be the first out of all the above to confess
super suddenly and out of nowhere (and he ends up shouting it cause he didn't want to sound chicken) but it's sweet in its own way
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#rook hunt x reader#epel felmier x reader#queued
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explain couch theory for dummies please
alright!!!
basically, couch theory started last season in 6x01. we got a snippet of the script for the buckley diaz scene at the beginning of the episode, where buck, eddie, and christopher are all having dinner together, and christopher teases buck for not having a couch.
buck is upset that bobby didn't consider him for interim captain and goes "i just wanna know what these other candidates have that apparently i don't."
christopher goes "buck, you don't even have a couch."
buck explains that the last two couches came with girlfriends (to which eddie replies "i think you mean the last two girlfriends came with couches.") because ali picked his couch when he got the loft, and they kept taylor's couch after she moved in, meaning that when she moved out, she took the couch with her.
the theory REALLY starts, though, when eddie points out that buck and taylor broke up months ago, he could've replaced the couch by now.
and buck gets a soft look in his eyes as he looks at eddie and goes "well, maybe i don't want to pick the wrong couch again."
that's kind of the root of the whole couch theory.
there's another scene in 6x01 where buck mentions not having a couch to bobby and saying he doesn't want to make a mistake again, referring to life experience.
essentially, the couch metaphor is actually something that happens in canon throughout season 6. the couch theory is the spin off of that metaphor, where it's very obvious that eddie is the damn couch.
throughout the season, there's this theme of buck searching for the right couch. it continues at the very end of the coma episode (6x11), when the buckley parents ask buck why he doesn't have a couch after they come home from the hospital.
we find out in this scene that maddie is aware of the couch metaphor because she goes "oh, that story is too long to tell while standing."
we then get a scene in the following episode (6x12) while buck's in recovery, of him trying and failing to get comfortable on his couch.
in this episode, the 118 and co are showing up to buck's apartment to keep him company, a system created by maddie to make sure buck is fine and that he's not by himself while he recovers from the lightning strike and coma.
buck doesn't want all this attention, though, and, eventually, gets fed up and goes to eddie's house.
where he immediately gets comfortable on his couch, and falls asleep before eddie even brings the beers out.
it did make the fandom lose it, thanks so much for asking.
not directly related to the couch theory, but after buck wakes up on eddie's couch, they talk about the shooting for the first time since it happened.
couch theory kind of continues throughout the season. there's a scene that's essentially a beat by beat parallel of buck falling asleep on eddie's couch with christopher falling asleep on the couch, and the buckley diaz family implications went crazy with that one.
seriously, i'm not kidding. beat by beat.
the writers, actors, producers, etc were all aware of what the fandom thought about the couch theory and how it related to buddie, also. couches were mentioned in interviews, tweets were liked, it was a whole thing.
but, i'm assuming whatever oliver says in today's (april 25th) article about the couch theory is gonna be a little more....buddie specific than anything was during s6.
anyway, after buck falling asleep on eddie's couch everyone sort of hoped for a continuation of the couch arc that involved eddie, because obviously eddie was the couch. you have buck, who didn't want to pick the wrong couch again, who couldn't even get comfortable on the couch his parents bought him, immediately fall asleep the second he sat on eddie's couch?
insanity!!!!!! it was crazy!!!!!
i don't remember if anything happened between 6x13-6x17 that was directly in canon. obviously the fandom kept going with the couch theory, speculating all the ways that the couch could mean buddie canon (there's a lot of fic from s6 that's full of couch metaphors and couch mentions)(my fics, too).
kameron gives birth to the sperm donor baby on buck's couch, also.
i forget that detail.
anyway, end of 6x18, buck and natalia are sitting on his balcony and he turns to her and asks if she wants to go buy a couch.
people died that day.
that's more or less it. i'm sure there's more that i'm missing, but essentially, the couch theory is the idea that eddie is buck's couch, the couch representing a romantic relationship.
or, not just a romantic relationship, but the right one. buck's couch is buck settling down, finding someone to spend the rest of forever with, a family, a home.
and then he got that in eddie's house, but he was too blind to see it.
alright. i think that's it! hope it made sense :)
let's pray today's interview doesn't kill us all
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what’s the fizzyfaz theory
OK SO! THE FIZZYFAZ THEORY... THERES A LOT OF THINGS CONNECTED TO FIZZYFAZ. LIKE. A LOT A LOT. NOW I MEAN IT WHEN I SAY BE PREPARED BECAUSE THIS IS. A LOT LMAO
in fnaf security breach there are cans of fizzyfaz that you can collect right? theres also this message that goes along with them!
interestingly enough, this message mentions grape, lemonade, and cherry fizzyfaz. however, while you can get grape fizzyfaz in game, you cant actually get plain lemonade or cherry. there's only orange, sour lime, pink lemonade, as well as grape, which is strange. theyre mentioned in the message, so where did normal lemonade and cherry go? well before we get to that, lets take a look at the fizzyfaz flavors that we can actually get in game!
quite obviously glamrock branded! for freddy, we have orange, for monty, we have sour lime, for chica, we have pink lemonade, and for roxy we have grape.
considering what we know about the glamrocks, we can start to deduce what each flavor might mean about each bandmate personality wise, as its obvious that theres some tie in with their marketed personalities.
(the rest of it is under the cut for everyones sanity)
freddy makes sense as orange because he's sweet and mellow. monty makes sense as sour lime because he's more of a rebellious cool guy. chica makes sense as pink lemonade because she's also sweet, though she's even moreso than freddy is. and roxy makes sense as grape because she's cool and different like monty, though she is be shown to be sweet at times (as in with Cassie in ruin)
these four flavors seem pretty normal right? theyre obviously color/flavor coded to each member of the glamrocks. however the actual flavors that were chosen in game have always stuck out to me for one reason.
THEYRE ALL CITRUS EXCEPT FOR GRAPE. lemon, lime, and orange are all citrus fruits. strange, right?
now you could always argue that it is fazbear is making these things, and that it's cheapest to produce like idk. a base citrus flavor and then add the additional flavors accordingly. but then why is roxy's and ONLY Roxy's grape flavored instead of being another citrus? grape is a pretty weird flavor to pair with 3 citrus flavors. hold on to that for now.
plus, roxy has another connection with distinct and stand-out fizzyfaz flavors. she specifically has an advertisement for her own type of limited edition cola flavor.
no other animatronic has advertising in game for any limited edition flavors. just roxy which really peaked my interest! wouldn't they do a promo with every glamrock? ok well, maybe since its limited edition the other glamrocks' special flavor runs have already ended and hers just wrapped up/is about to.
but wait, theres even more to do with roxy and fizzyfaz.
in help wanted 2 in the staff bot food prep mini games for el chips and the kitchen, you can serve four flavors of soda. orange, sour lime, pink lemonade, and.... sodaroni. aka not grape fizzyfaz.
ISNT THAT WEIRD??? not to mention how specifically in the theater version of food prep, theres no fizzyfaz at all. instead, we can serve exotic beverage, dj music man's techno-cooler, chicachug, and.... sodaroni again.
isn't that weird? the theater is also an interesting choice for the final food prep level to take place in considering that it's clearly not the most popular attraction, as well as the fact that we're in a whole mall with multiple food stands. you can argue that it's also one of the few places with a kitchen, but i believe that this choice was made on purpose for a different reason.
after all, who is tied to the theater as well as the only character to actually talk about fizzyfaz in game?
thats right.
THE DAYCARE ATTENDANT.
I mean i was gonna tie them to this somehow! the connection is obvious!!
like… theres a soda dispenser in the ACTUAL DAYCARE ITSELF.
theres also numerous ones outside and in the theater lobby. interesting, right? so much soda promo in the daycare area, yet they dont even serve the main soda brand of fizzyfaz in the theater food prep level... how interesting.
and now for something ive seen literally no one talk about. in the theater basement theres a room with the purple stars painted on the walls outside. inside that room, sitting on a filing cabinet under gold balloons that spell out ‘5TAR’ as well as a sundrop poster, theres ANOTHER soda dispenser. yet instead of one of the fancy digital ones, it's just a simple soda dispenser like we see in the kitchen above.
interesting choice for a soda dispenser location, right? there aren’t any others in the theater basement. just this one.
let’s take a look at this room. specifically the vanity.
there’s a flower pot, a trophy, some makeup brushes, and interestingly enough, a whole nail polish stand with a variety of colors. the uniqueness of this whole room makes me think that it’s meant to stand out. not to mention the fact that there’s a connected bathroom with two stalls in it. after all, the other rooms are just standard dressing rooms.
maybe i’m just reaching here, but i think that this was a theater staff break room, as well as some kind of animatronic prep room for sun and moon’s performances. they used to be the theater bot, after all.
so sun and moon have obviously been around for a while, as evident by all the wear and tear they have. plus in the tales from the pizzaplex books the daycare is mentioned to be an attraction that was built later on. it wasn’t there when the pizzaplex first opened.
but the theater was.
and since the out of place soda dispenser was in a room in the theater basement, there’s a chance that it served fizzyfaz.
cherry fizzyfaz.
i may just be grasping at straws here, but cherry… kind of fits the DCA really well. i mean, it isn’t a citrus fruit like the glamrocks (minus Roxy) have. sun has red and yellow pants, moon has red eyes, and they both have red ribbons with two bells around their wrists. the overall theater is pretty red too.
besides the overall red coloring of the theater and the red on the DCA, the cherry flavoring would fit sun and moon pretty well too! cherries can be either sweet or sour, and are often a balanced mix of both, which would be a nice tie in to sun and moon’s good and evil double act in the theater!
so when the daycare got built and sun and moon were transferred over from the theater, the cherry flavor likely got pulled or discontinued. probably because the theater wasn't as popular as fazbear wanted it to be. and thus in help wanted 2 in their food prep minigame, there was no fizzyfaz. they lost fizzyfaz privileges from management when they were moved to the daycare LMAO
and there we have it. sun and moon are the probable answer for who the cherry fizzyfaz flavor belonged to.
but what about lemonade fizzyfaz?
well, lemonade has a much easier answer. it’s a citrus flavor too, of course. and every bowling alley i’ve ever been to has served an abundance of lemonade lmao
so YEAHHH it’s probably Glamrock Bonnie’s flavor. i mean, he's got a yellow star on his chest, a yellow bass, and yellow sunglasses. plus blue is the opposite of yellow...
though... personality wise, we know basically nothing about the guy other than he was maybe probably laid back considering how bonnie is in fazbear and friends. and lemonade is a pretty chill drink. i mean glamrock bonnie also died and was possessing all the wet floor bots or stuff in ruin and like theyre yellow too or something idk....
with this lineup the band would still have 3/4 citrus flavors, with... two lemonades. interestingly. and tbh i think that the majority of citrus is potentially the most important factor in this theory.
i mean freddy, chica, and bonnie are the OGs. the MAIN THREE from fnaf 1 days. so ofc they'd all be similar flavors (even if there are two lemonades... no idea what fazbear would have been cooking with that one lol) and yeah, foxy is an OG too, but he wasn't actually part of the main band until later on lol
yet in security breach, we don't get a glamrock foxy. we get roxanne wolf, who is an entirely new character, so it makes sense for her to not have a similarly citrus flavor.
grape is the only one mentioned in the message that you can actually get in game. and if the lemonade and cherry have been discontinued since bonnie was decommissioned and sun and moon were moved from the daycare to the theater, then...
it's clearly been a while. and if it's been a while and there's still grape fizzyfaz, which would make no sense for foxy to have (as the statue of him in kids cove is nowhere near purple) then roxy has been around for a while. and if she's been around since the dca was in the theater, then she never replaced foxy!!!! wild and crazy am I right
and yes! you could also argue the opposite and that bonnie's flavor was cherry while the dca's flavor was lemonade, which likely makes more sense.
the DCA has yellow as both sun and moon, with sun's overall coloring and his pants and stuff, and the stars on moon's pants and the bells on both of their wrists. and lemonade can be sweet or sour. like their act. and fazbear pulled it because nobody really cared about the theater or just plain lemonade fizzyfaz as opposed to the cool pink lemonade chica had.
plus bonnie is more red than yellow, with his reddish-pink jumpsuit and his red eyes. and cherry could maybe work for him? again, we barely know anything about his personality... then when he got decommissioned, they replaced his unique cherry flavor with another citrus to cut costs.
though we really have no way of telling which was the real flavors for each of them or if they even were flavors that were produced at all!! after all, the message says 'COPY FOR APPROVAL', so lemonade and cherry might have been scrapped all together....
this is all just speculation from yours truly, since im such a big flavored drink fan and i really want more people to talk about the fizzyfaz... ,:3c
and now onto my next theory, which is that the DCA is the real one have to killed glamrock bonnie...
#vivispeaks#ask#fizzyfaz theory#I JUST WANT CHERRY TO BE THE DCA FLAVOR OKAY. I LOVE CHERRY#fizzyfaz#sun fnaf#moon fnaf#dca fnaf#glamrock bonnie#glamrock chica#glamrock freddy#glamrock animatronics#montgomery gator#monty gator#roxanne wolf#roxy wolf#fnaf security breach#fnaf sb#security breach
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Hello, Duchess
Summary: Your first encounter with Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson, goes worse than you ever could've imagined. Takes place directly after the events in New in Town.
Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Implied Jealousy, Threats of Violence, Cursing, Minors DNI
A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!
Ari’s P.O.V.
“Can’t believe this town actually has a real live bookstore.” Ari muses as he pulls up in front of the tiny, quaint-looking bookstore. “Fuckin’ wild.” Throwing his truck in park he takes a moment to survey the area, making note of the empty lot.
‘Must not do much business.’ He thinks before climbing out of his vehicle and confidently striding toward the door. Hopefully, the lack of an audience would make things flow a hell of a lot faster. Hell, if you were anything like some of the other women in this town, he’d probably just have to smile and flash his baby blues to convince you to spill your guts.
In fact, he was practically banking on it. Because this wasn’t Ari’s first rodeo – not by a long shot. He’d spent a lot of his life in and out of small towns like Bell’s Creek, which was part of the reason he couldn’t wait to bag his latest bounty and put this place, and its people, in his rearview mirror. Ari reaches for the handle on the door, only to frown when he gets a look at the sign hanging in the window that reads: “sorry, we’re closed”.
Well, that couldn’t be right.
He could’ve sworn that when he’d pressed Mrs. Turner, the First Lady of Calvary Baptist Church, about your whereabouts she’d said he’d be able to find you at your shop. Something about your preferring to work instead of resting and rejoicing on the Lord’s day.
While the bounty hunter supposed he could always try back tomorrow, he was keen to check you off his list. Refusing to admit defeat, he decides to try his luck anyway, only to be surprised when the door opens with a tinkling chime of a bail.
Confused but also now on high alert, Ari takes a tentative step inside as he looks for any sign of life. “Hello?” He calls out, finally allowing the door to swing shut behind him. Instinct has him reaching for his back pocket, checking to make sure he had brought along his firearm.
Just in case.
“Is anybody here?” He tries again, moving further into the shop. The place is clean and well lit, and boasts rack after rack of books. But what’s most impressive is that there doesn’t appear to be a speck of dust anywhere. “Look, I just came by to–”
“We’re closed!” A disembodied voice sounds from the back of the store.
“Yeah, I saw the sign, ma’am…” He clears his throat. “But I think you forgot to lock the door, so I –”
“That means get out!”
“So much for southern hospitality.” Ari grumbles under his breath as he continues on his mission to track down the owner of the voice. “Ma’am, I just wanna talk. And maybe–ahh shit!” He curses when his hip accidentally connects with a half-full rolling cart, sending several of the heavier books crashing to the ground. “Sorry!”
“Did you just break something?!” The voice suddenly screeches. “Don’t make me get my taser.”
“There’s no need for that.” Instead of picking them up, the bounty hunter hastily nudges them aside with his foot. “My name is Ari Levinson, and I’m just here to ask you a couple of questions.”
While this isn’t how the man had expected any of this to go, he’s relieved when he sees a familiar face peek at him from around the corner. A face that happened to be even more beautiful than he initially remembered. Even though it had only been a couple of hours since he’d seen you last.
Sweet Christ! That vision of you in that dress taking up space at the other end of the pew was now permanently imprinted into his brain.
Your P.O.V
“Pretty sure this is what law enforcement calls trespassing.” You sniff, craning your head around the corner to stare at the man who was taking up entirely too much space in the narrow hallway. Sure said man was easy on the eyes, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little concerned about his apparent inability to read.
“I can assure you that’s not what this is.” The lawman holds up his palms in an effort to placate you.
And although you try not to stare, it’s impossible to miss just how big they are – how rough they seemed – with just the right amount of callus. You can’t help but wonder what those hands would feel like on your bare flesh.
“Then what is it?” You ask, struggling to keep your tone short and clipped as you emerge from your hiding place. The last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were actually attracted to him.
If anything, you considered yourself to be curious. Nothing harm there, right?
“As I said, my name is Ari Levinson. I’m a bounty hunter from just outside Rosewell, New Mexico who also occasionally moonlights as a private investigator.” He tells you, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I just stopped by to ask you a couple of questions. And while I didn’t necessarily mean to intrude, I figured you might appreciate me taking a more delicate approach on account of your relationship with my person of interest.”
Fucking Martin Westbrook. He’d been the bane of your existence ever since you’d crossed paths in high school.
“I know you’re looking for Martin.” Annoyed by the very nature of the conversation, you pick up a box, hefting it onto your hip so that you can carry it out to the sales floor. “But I’m not quite sure how much help I can be.”
You brush past him, inwardly smiling when he scrambles to get out of your way. It was a subtle reminder that this was your shop. And you absolutely refused to be intimidated by him or anyone else.
“I’m sure whatever you have to say will be plenty helpful.” He’s quick to reassure you as he turns to follow the path you set. “Provided you’re honest, that is.”
“Did you really just waltz into my shop and call me a liar, Mr. Levinson?”
“I meant no offense.” Ari coughs, scrubbing a weary hand over his bearded jaw. If you were the overly presumptuous type, you might think you’d just managed to fluster the poor man.
Now feeling extra prickly, you drop the box onto the far counter of your cashwrap before turning to face your unwelcome guest. “As you can see, I have a busy day’s work ahead of me. And I was really keen on doing it by myself.” You gesture at the array of other boxes and racks placed around the store. “So if we could get a move on, I would greatly appreciate it.”
“Gladly.” He gives a brief look around. “Is there some place maybe where you and I can sit and chat?”
“I’d say here is about as good a place as any.” You tell him as you step behind the counter. Bending down, you snag a bottle of cleaner, along with a couple of rags. If this man insisted on being here, then he would just have to deal with you taking care of your business. “I’m pretty confident in my ability to multitask.”
Nodding along, Ari pulls out a small notepad and pen from his back pocket. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Westbrook?”
You let out a sigh as you begin to spray down your countertops with your all-purpose cleaner. While you supposed you could’ve gone with something a little more industrial, you were partial to the way this particular brand’s products always smelled.
“I don’t know.” You shrug as you bask in the scent of rose and cedar. “Maybe three, four weeks ago.”
“Do you happen to recall the day and time?”
“No. Not really. If I had to ballpark it, I’d guess sometime around the 5th of last month.” You move to the next flat surface, spraying it down just like the last.
“You sure about that?” You try not to let it irk you when you see him take a seat on a nearby step stool out of the corner of your eye.
“As much as I can be.”
“And did Mr. Westbrook happen to give you any indication of where he might be headed?”
“Nope.”
He’d been nervous though. That much you did recall. By the time he’d come to you that night, your old friend had been well beyond spooked.
“Did he give you his reason for leaving?”
“We didn’t…” You trail off, taking a moment to scrub at a particularly stubborn sticky spot that’s marring the wood. “There wasn’t really much time for talking.” You’re so concerned with scrubbing that you miss the way the county hunter’s eyes narrow as he studies you. “He just stopped over to say goodbye.”
And to borrow all the cash you happened to have on hand – to the tune of $500. Enough for a bus ticket and a couple nights in a dirt cheap motel.
“Right.” Ari scoffs, admittedly with a bit more heat than he intends. “Not a lot of time for talking.” He pauses briefly to drag a hand through his shaggy brown locks. “Not sure why I didn’t wanna believe them.”
“Am I sensing a problem, Mr. Levinson?” You hum, tossing your rag to the side in favor of focusing on the rugs.
“I guess I’m just having a hard time believing you when you say he kept you in the dark about his plans.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “In my experience, most men like Martin tend to have loose lips around the women they’re fuckin’.”
In that moment, it’s almost as if you can feel the air go out of the room. Just who the fuck did this knuckle-dragging, mouth-breather think he was?
“Excuse me?” Those two little words are spoken through clenched teeth. You’re so taken aback by his brazen accusation that you can scarcely breathe, let alone think.
Ari simply quirks a tawny brow at you, seemingly unaware of the danger he’s just placed himself in. Did he not see how close your hand was to that damned stapler? While it was clear that folks in this town had been running their mouths, they’d apparently neglected to mention that you’d also been the star pitcher for your high school softball team.
“Apologies if I offended your delicate sensibilities, Duchess. But I’ve never been the type to beat around the bush. Besides…” The smug bastard tucks his pen behind his ear. “You have to know that people in this town like to talk.”
Fire simmers hot in your belly, as you come out from behind the register. It takes less than ten seconds for you to bridge the distance between yourself and the cocky lawman. While you might’ve been taught never to raise a hand against anyone, this man was sorely testing every last bit of your patience.
“I want to make one thing very, very clear.” You hiss once you’re finally standing toe-to-toe with the handsome interloper who, of course, makes no room to get up himself. “I have never – not even once – slept with Martin Westbrook. He’s a friend, you backwoods jackass. Something you clearly know nothing about.”
“I get the feeling I struck a nerve.”
And, judging by the newfound tick in his jaw, so had you. Except you had no way of knowing it was because he’d lost a buddy of his own a little while back.
“And I think it’s about time you got the hell out of my shop.” His piercing blue eyes fly to yours, letting you know that you’d managed to surprise him with your heated dismissal.
Good. Because this Ari Levinson fella had officially overstayed his welcome.
“Look, Duchess. I apolo –”
“That’s the second time you’ve called me out of my name, Mr. Levinson. And I’m not sure I appreciate it.” You spit as you take a step backwards with the intention of giving him enough space to stand. “Now, I’ve been nothing but amenable to your rather…invasive questions. But we’re done. So, I’m gonna have to insist that you leave.”
Before you decided he’d make a deserving candidate for death by a thousand paper cuts.
Your pulse continues to thrum in your ears as you watch him rise to his full height – an impressive 6’4 – so that he now towers over you. Perhaps if you weren’t so angry you’d be a little more tempted to allow your mind to wander a little farther into the realm of fantasy.
But not now.
Right now, in this moment, all you wanted was to watch Ari Levinson’s sculpted ass walk right out your front door.
Nodding, the now quiet bounty hunter begins moving in the direction of the entrance. Neither of you say a word as you make that quick walk. In fact, you don’t speak until Ari’s hand is on the handle.
“For what it's worth…” He blows out a weary breath. “This wasn’t how I meant for this to go.” His eyes find yours, as if imploring you to see the truth in them.
However, instead of responding all you can do is offer up a shrug. Which he, of course, takes as an opportunity to keep going.
“It’s just…the idea of someone like you getting caught up with a piece of slime like Westbrook…” He pauses long enough to open the door and take a tentative step outside. “I guess it bothered me more than I realized.”
His reluctant admission has your stomach tied up in knots, which prompts you to ask the one question you were almost certain you’d regret later:
“And just what do you mean by that?” You do your best to seem unruffled as you awkwardly brace yourself against the doorframe.
“All I’m saying is that you’re out of his league.” Feeling even more confused, you watch as Ari’s lips curve in a faint smile. “And if you didn’t know that before, well, now you do.” His head dips politely as he turns to head towards his truck.
“Guess I’ll see you around, Duchess.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning. “Oh, and don’t forget to lock up. Might help with all those unwanted visitors you’ve been havin.”
Ari doesn't need to turn his head to know that you're currently giving him the finger. He can feel it. And all it does it make him smile harder.
END
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Little Pinch
nurse!marcus pike x f!reader
she needs to get bloodwork done. one small problem, getting bloodwork done never goes well for her, especially not when she's distracted by the very kind, very handsome nurse doing it.
wordcount | 3.3K
content info | 18+ discussions of getting bloodwork that includes needles, fainting, nausea, mostly fluff, nurse marcus to the rescue, this is just a fun time, also an un-beta'd time so like, be nice pls
a/n | shoutout to the girls (gn) that pass out every time they get blood work done (me). I have to get new labs tomorrow morning, and writing this is how I coped with that prospect :') this one is for the fainters, the thin veiners, the "just do it in my hand"-ers - i see you, i am you, gawd bless
..........................................................................
Here’s the thing, this never goes well. It wasn’t always like this though. She has a vague memory of being a kid and taking it like a perfect champ, testing for mono after a rash of cases at school. But then, well, something changed.
It runs in her family. Thin veins that are hard for even the best nurses to find, lots of oh, I just lost it, and well, let’s try your other arm, and always, ultimately, hands? Should we try the hands? No, the nurses never listen when she tells them to just start with the hands, and without fail, somewhere around the third or fourth time they try to get the needle in, a cold sweat breaks, and the room starts to filter through a fuzzy pinhole of vision. It’s embarrassing, she thinks, because, really, she has no problem with needles. Can watch it go in, no issues with piercings, et cetera, et cetera, but getting blood drawn? Yeah, forget about it. She usually comes to with paperwork around her feet that she had been holding, and a well-meaning nurse pressing a damp paper towel to her forehead and breathing the remnants of her lunch over her face and alright, hon? Usually a box of apple juice and an escort out to her car to make sure she doesn’t go offline again.
The other thing is, unfortunately, she’s pretty sure her little fainting, fading thing has gotten worse over the years. A conditioned response, she thinks, that cold sweat starts the second she walks into the waiting room, already anticipating what comes next. And today, well, even worse than some of the others. Twelve hours fasted, and no, that certainly won’t help her case, no matter how much water she downed before she came here, no matter how tight she squeezes her fist in the hopes of pumping even one vein up enough to be tenable. She looks at the woman sitting across from her in the waiting room, reading a back-ordered issue of Cosmo, flipping and flippant and really, why can’t she be like that? Why can’t she be normal like that? Instead, her heel is doing a frantic tap, whole leg jerking with it, and everytime she checks her watch she feels her heart creep a little further up into her throat.
If she’s being honest, she thought about canceling her labs. No, doc, all good, doc, don’t need to know, doc. And then a friend pointed out, frustratingly, that avoidance is only going to make it worse. Right, so, right, so right, so, here she is. And here’s the nurse opening the door and right, calling her name, and it’s a man nurse, male nurse, though she’s pretty sure she’s not being PC by making that specification in her mind because really, twenty-first century, and really, anyone can be a nurse. But not anyone, right? Lots of schooling, right? Right. She realizes a bit too late that she hadn’t responded to the nurse calling her name, jerking up out of her chair and trying for a smile that she thinks probably looks more like constipation. And that’s just great because now man nurse, sorry, just nurse, probably thinks she’s constipated and she’d rather not have the, actually, very handsome, just nurse, thinking that on top of whatever she’s got going on that necessitates lab work she also can’t take a shit. Right.
“We’re going to be in this room right here.” Handsome just nurse has a nice voice too, deep but kind, and a strong jawline, and a patchy beard but she likes that it’s patchy, and he’s tan and he’s got one of those big watches that tells you how hard your heart was beating on your run and he probably runs in the afternoon after clocking out of the needle-in-arms gig and that’s probably why he’s so tan, probably has a golden retriever who runs with him too, because he looks like a golden retriever guy, dark flop of wavy hair and that smile and oh, oh, he just asked her a question and now she’s supposed to answer it.
“I’m sorry, could you say that again?” He smiles, nods, being nice, at least, about her whole scared prey animal situation. She presses her palm down hard on her knee to keep it from bouncing any more.
“It says on this order that these labs need to be taken fasted. Can you confirm to me that you haven’t had anything to eat or drink besides water in the last twelve hours?” Oh yes, yep, she can confirm that for you, Marcus, his name is Marcus, says so on his little lanyard badge. Thanks for the easy one, Marcus, pitch right down the middle, Marcus, with your nice smile and your clipboard and your, well, needles and tubes. But before he can get started with his, well, needles and tubes, she makes a strangled, sort of despondent sound because in situations like these, she comes with a warning label.
“I should let you know I have, um, bad veins? Honestly, you can just start with my hands, I don’t mind it. And also, I’m a fainter, yeah, so, it happens every time, just so you know.” And usually, usually, her spiel is given very little notice, mmmokay, hon. Sure, they’ll lay her back, how merciful, so she doesn’t crack her skull open on the way out of conscious orbit. That’s about it, though. But this time, she thinks, might just be different.
“Okay, thank you for giving me the heads up. If you’re sure you’re alright with starting with the hands then it’s fine by me to get it done that way.” So, so fine, Marcus, and maybe, just maybe, she thinks she might not pass out this time. He sets the exam table at a reclined angle and she wills her rigid spine to settle against it, trying to find the balance between breathing so deeply she starts to get light headed, and not breathing at all. In case you were wondering, yes, she is on medication for anxiety, it just doesn’t seem to presently be working.
“Just gonna feel around a bit here for a good one.” She only feels a little insane for the kick and clench in her heart when he takes her one hand in both of his, because he’s just palpating the back of her hand to find, as he said, a good one. Yes, the word for it is palpating, and there is certainly nothing romantic nor, hello, sexual about anything that’s called palpating. But, hey, taking wins where she can get them, and even through the latex gloves, his hands are warm and big and very know what they’re doing about the whole thing. And she’s no expert, obviously, but he’s got a very nice, very visible vein in his forearm, and she bets phlebotomists love him, bets that when he gets blood drawn, he’s in and out no problem, bets that even she could draw blood from him. Nope, nothing sexual about that, nothing weird about that, right? Right. Nothing sexual either, when he ties off the tight band around her arm and she watches his one bicep flex a little with the effort.
“I can count you down, or you can look away and I’ll just get it done, whichever you prefer.”
“Uh, no preference, I’ll just look away and you can do whatever you want to me.” Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. She realizes exactly what she just said a bit too late, him, Marcus, nice nurse Marcus, letting out a laugh that fizzles out into a cough. Great, now she’s made her fucking phlebotomist uncomfortable, possibly one of the last people you want to make uncomfortable. But if that, whatever that was, lingers, he doesn’t show it, already swiping an antiseptic wipe over the back of her hand and pulling his little cart of tubes closer to himself. And she knows this part, she’s good at this part, letting her eyes sweep up and to the right, because he’s on her left, and willing whatever vein he decided is a good one to stay a good one. Little pinch, little prayer, she lets out a held breath when he says a quiet alright and keeps the needle exactly where it is. Hallelujah.
“This might take a little longer, just because we’re drawing from your hand.”
“I’ll bleed as fast as I can then.” At the very least, he laughs, even though she wishes she had kept that one to herself.
“Do you live around here?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“Sorry, I’m trying to distract you.”
“Didn’t they teach you how to do that in like, phlebotomy school?” She still has her eyes turned up and away, only a little wince when he switches out one tube for another. He hums at her question.
“Not really, I could ask you about the weather, is that better?”
“It’s cloudy. Not much of a conversation starter.”
“Well, why don’t you ask me something, since you’re such an expert on starting conversations.”
“Do you have a golden retriever?”
“What?”
“Sorry, you just, you look like the kind of guy who’d have a golden retriever.” Another tube clicks into place, but she’s not paying any attention to that now.
“Uh, no, no golden retriever. I do however have a very old, very deaf pit mix named Lucille.” Goddamnit, somehow that’s hotter than the golden retriever.
“Great name.”
“Yeah, I thought so too. She came with it when I adopted her.” God. Fucking. Damn it. What next, is he a volunteer firefighter on the weekends?
“Alright, that’s the last one.”
“Wait, really?” She chances a skittish glance but, sure enough, the needle is out.
“Yep, just let me get a band-aid for you and you’re all set.” Is he? Is she? Really? Going to make it out of here with no blackout? She considers, very briefly, as Marcus is smoothing a band-aid over the back of her hand, whether it’s possible to put a phlebotomist on retainer.
“If you want to sit for a minute and make sure you’re feeling alright before getting up that’s totally fine. I can also get you water or juice if you’re getting lightheaded.”
“Oh, no, I’m fine actually. Which, hey, thanks for not making me faint and stuff– that’s a first for me in a very long–” Oh, oh, stops herself mid-compliment because oh, oh, maybe stood up too fast, because the room is going a little dark, a little sideways, cold prickle and nauseous and–
“Easy, easy, I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?” His voice is a little fuzzy around the edges. To be honest, he’s a little fuzzy around the edges, though she knows right away what happened. No, not her first rodeo, like she blinked and then came to in a strange sprawl on the end of the exam table. Marcus presents a dixie cup to her, holds it right in her line of sight because clearly, she’s still a little slumped, still a little vacant, and a little warm, actually, which is new, and a little pleasant, and, oh, it’s because his arm is curled around her shoulders, firm palm held there to help her sit up. Oh. He smells like clorox and something woodsy, and it shouldn’t, but it kind of works.
“You feeling okay?”
“Mmmhmm.” She’s afraid of what might come out of her mouth if she doesn’t keep her lips pressed in a thin line, mmhmms again when he asks if she can sit up on her own, only a little despondent when he takes his arm away.
“So, you really weren’t kidding about that happening every time, huh?”
“Nope, wish I was. It’s– I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“That you had to deal with that.”
“You don’t have to be sorry about that, it’s part of the job. And actually, you fainted about as perfectly as I could’ve asked you to.”
“I didn’t know you could faint like, well.”
“Right before you went down you said I’m gonna faint. That’s a lot better than getting no heads up and turning around to find my patient unresponsive on the ground.”
“Oh gee, I bet you say that to all your patients.” Lord, if there was ever a time to put her out of her misery it’d be now. She probably still looks green from her little trip to outer space but sure, flirt with Marcus, handsome nurse Marcus who just watched you absolutely eat it. Kick your feet and bat your eyelashes while you’re at it.
“I take it you’re feeling better then? Are you okay to walk out to the front desk?” And the rest is, mercifully, easy. He walks her to the front desk, squeezes her shoulder and gives her a good job today that she likes a little too much. She makes a mental note to herself to never come back to this clinic for any future bloodwork, lest she make a fool of herself all over again in front of a man who, with any luck, she will never see again.
…
“Yes, this is she speaking.” This is she speaking in the middle of the cereal aisle with a half-filled grocery basket at her feet. She sets her gaze on a hyper-realized image of a granola cluster (now with real strawberries!) while the woman on the other end of the phone tells her that her lab results came in and were sent over to her doctor.
“Oh, great, thank you for letting me know. Do you know– did things look okay?”
“We don’t interpret the results, ma’am. Your doctor will go over that with you.” She doesn’t quite catch that, doesn’t catch the woman’s ma’am? either, a little preoccupied with staring down the aisle, because is that? Is he? He looks good out of the scrubs.
“Ma’am?”
“Sorry, no, um, of course. Thanks again.” If the woman had anything else to tell her, it’s a little too late for it, already hung up, and she’s trying to decide if she wants him to see her, or if fleeing immediately is the best course of action. He probably wouldn’t even recognize her, she thinks. It’s been a couple of weeks since the whole ordeal. And actually, she’d prefer if he didn’t recognize her. Oh yeah, the one who, well, ate it. But it seems the choice has already been made for her, because he saw her, walking down the aisle toward her, with his chin tilted down and part of a smile like he isn’t sure, but he’s pretty sure. He says her name like a question. Guilty as charged.
“Marcus, right?” Like she forgot his name, ha. His smile stretches, a little brighter, palm to the nape of his neck, and while she got the golden retriever part wrong, she totally clocked the rest, watch on his wrist and nice-looking athletic shorts and just-right-tight t-shirt with the little swoosh on the chest. She thinks his hair might even be a little sweat-damp, curled ends nearly getting in his eyes. In other words, she’s a goner.
“How have you been since we– you, well–”
“Since I passed out on you?” Yeah, that, he laughs out and yeah, she likes him, sue her.
“Just for the record, I believe it was you who said I passed out perfectly, so.” Shrug, so, he takes a step closer, leans in a little like he’s going to tell her a secret. In the cereal aisle, of all places.
“Just for the record, I really don’t say that to all my patients.”
“No?”
“Nope, just the nervous, pretty ones.”
“I was not nervous.”
“You weren’t?”
“Nope.”
“Are you just gonna blow past the other thing?”
“What thing?”
“The pretty thing.”
“Yep.” Something a little giddy, like being back in high school, shared, shit-eating and smug grins. He shakes his head and she rolls her lips back in her mouth to stop her smile from getting any cheesier.
“So, you do live around here then?”
“Mm, yeah, I do. And so do you?”
“I do.”
“Nice, nice.”
“Lovely weather we’re having.”
“Wow.”
“What? I’m making conversation.”
“You’re still not very good at it.”
“I’ll keep working on it for you.”
“Sure, okay. What kind of cereal do you get?”
“What kind do you think I get?”
“You look like a Kashi guy, if I’m honest.”
“Somehow I feel insulted.”
“Well.”
“You’re not even right either.”
“No? What do you get then?” He just smiles, steps away and reaches up to the top of the shelf and she is very grateful to General Mills for being located on the top shelf because his shirt rides up just enough to see a bare hip. In cheerios we trust.
“Apple cinnamon, seriously?”
“What? It’s a classic.”
“Actually, you know what, that tracks.”
“What do you get?” She waggles her basket in front of him in response, goods already procured.
“Peanut butter chex, respectable choice.”
“Thank you, thank you.”
“You know, I’d say we’re pretty good at this conversation thing.”
“Yeah, we’re not bad.”
“Do you want to do this again sometime? Not in the cereal aisle?”
“What, you mean like in the produce section?” He smiles at that, rolls his eyes, his basket lightly bonking against hers.
“I was thinking more like dinner, or drinks if that’s your thing?”
“I might be free on Saturday.”
“I might also be free on Saturday.”
“Well, sounds like we’re both free on Saturday.”
“Can I get your number?” His lockscreen is a picture of a dog. Lucille, he tells her, before she was very old and very deaf. She can’t help how big her smile gets at that.
“Text me, and we’ll do this whole conversation thing again.” I will, he says, phone tucked back into his pocket, though he seems to think twice before asking her can I see something really quick. Not entirely sure what he means when she nods, but then his hand sort of hovers over her forearm, may I? He really does have nice hands, she doesn’t think twice about nodding again.
“Oh yeah, we didn’t have to use your hand. I could have totally gotten it from here.” His hand curled around her elbow and his thumb lightly pressing into what she can only assume is a vein, and he says it so earnestly that she can’t help the incredulous laugh that rises up in her chest.
“Really? You’re still stuck on that, huh?” He smiles something sheepish, pad of his thumb rubbing an apology into her skin before pulling away. She didn’t really want him to pull away.
“Sorry, occupational hazard, I guess.”
“Kinda weird, you know.”
“Did I just ruin this whole thing?”
“Mmm, no, I kinda like it.”
“So, Saturday?”
“Looking forward to it, Marcus.”
#marcus pike#marcus pike fanfiction#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal#marcus pike fluff#marcus pike fic#marcus pike au#marcus pike angst#marcus pike x reader#marcus pike x you
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𝐀 𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐧
*Pics not mine credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female!Reader.
• Requested by anon: Could you please write a derek Morgan x reader smut where the reader and derek and the team obvi are on a case and while interviewing neighbors in the apartments the reader makes a stupid bet like "I bet whoever lives here is a hot single bachelor in his 20s" and then it's the opposite and when they are back in the car derek makes the reader pay up but with her panties and when she goes to get them back at the end of the day it leads to smut.
• Warnings: a really brief mention of a murder case (it’s just a sentence), dirty talk, cuss words, making out, semi-public foreplay (f. receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up you guyssss!!)
• Word count: 5.5K
• A/N: my first Derek fic 😭 I hope you like it guys, please let me know what do you think about it and also comment, like and reblog, it’d mean the world. Sending lots of love to everyone ❤️
What part of your brain thought it was a good idea to make a bet with Derek Morgan?
You didn’t even know why you did it, it must’ve been the pleasure of losing because there was no way on earth you would’ve won.
You and Morgan were about to go interview a witness for a case you were working on: a serial killer who was killing his victims by setting fires. You were walking next to each other while you thought of some way to make what was going to be a long and boring afternoon, interesting.
You and Derek had a, well… Particular relationship, to say the least.
Months prior you and him had started to have sex. It started out as a purely physical thing as you had always been very attracted to each other, but as time went on you found yourselves spending time together and enjoying each other’s company even outside of a sexual sphere.
Your relationship, both from a working and private point of view, had always been characterized by a playful banter, mischievous jokes, by the constant flirting so it wasn’t strange you both often found yourselves making bets aimed to make lose the other’s mind.
In fact, it was at that moment that you came up with an idea for a bet, however forgetting he took them so seriously it seemed like his life depended on it, especially since most of the time he won, and the penances were of a sexual nature. Of course you didn’t mind losing one bit.
“I bet whoever lives here is a hot single bachelor in his twenties,” you said, pointing to the apartment where you were heading, ready to question the witness. He grinned and glanced at you, hands shoved in his pockets.
“Oh baby girl, you still don’t understand it’s a losing battle?”
“What’s the matter Agent Morgan, you afraid of losing?” You challenged him with the deliberate pleasure of teasing him and in fact he immediately gave in to your provocation.
He chuckled, shaking his head slightly in amusement. You arrived in front of the apartment door that had the number ‘23’ on its sign. You were standing facing each other while he thought about the penance, he would’ve make you do if you – most likely – lost.
Another evil, mocking grin appeared on his lips, and you immediately knew you were in trouble. “You’ll give me your panties when you lose.”
“If I lose.”
“When. But you can still back out.”
“Never.”
He held out a hand towards you but you didn’t miss the way his eyes roamed over your body from head to toe, checking you out without shame. Over time you had learned to understand what he was thinking, what was hidden behind his look and you almost caught fire because you immediately recognized that look, it was the one he gave you when he was imagining you naked in every possible and imaginable position.
And in fact, you weren’t wrong.
Just the thought of having your panties in his pocket, walking around and smelling you, was enough to make his dick stir in his pants.
You knew the odds of you winning the bet were slim, but your competitive nature made you shake Morgan’s hand, and he gave you another one of his panty-ripping smiles.
“Wipe that smirk off your face, don’t take the victory for granted.”
He raised his hands in surrender, chuckling. “I would never dare but be realistic darling. Do you know how low the odds are?”.
“What if I win?”.
“You won’t.”
“What if I win?” You repeated, crossing your arms over your chest.
He shrugged, very sure he’d win. “You’ll choose the penance.”
You thought about it for a moment and a mischievous smile appeared on your lips this time. “I’ll do a strip tease and a lap dance.”
He looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “How is that a penance? Baby I’d drop on my knees right now to make this happen...”
“…But you’ll be handcuffed, you won’t be able to touch me and I won’t make you come.”
He opened his mouth wide, feeling his dick twitch just at the thought. He had to force himself to think of something else since he didn’t want to question a witness with a raging hard on but it was awfully difficult when all he could do was imagine you strip teasing and grinding on his lap. “Fuck I don’t know if I should win or lose.”
“If you want to end up with blue balls then you have to hope to lose.”
You knocked on the apartment door, still maintaining eye contact with Derek and trying to hold back your laughter since you knew exactly what he was thinking. You took your eyes away from him only to let them travel down his body and to the crotch of his pants which was clearly prominent at that moment. You bit your lip as you looked back at his face and he glared at you.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispered, feeling the situation getting even worse. Damn it, he felt like a damn horny teenager.
Before you could respond to his comment the door opened, revealing a person who couldn’t be more different from the object of your bet. He in fact was a she, a lady who couldn’t have been less than sixty years old.
Your smile dropped as the one on Derek’s face grew even more and, as you had already said, you wondered what part of your brain had thought it was a good idea to make that bet.
“Good morning. Can I help you?” she looked skeptically at both of you.
“Oh yes ma’am, you just made my day so much better,” he replied softly but glancing at you. “We’re FBI agents, may we ask you few questions?”
Over the next hour and a half you interviewed other witnesses near the fire scene and on your way to the car, Derek wouldn’t stop trying to get close to you and touch you.
“Derek stop it! We’re in public! God you’re so unprofessional,” you slapped one of his hands away that had been squeezing your ass for the last couple of minutes, trying not to laugh.
“There’s nothing professional about what we do, baby girl,” he replied with mock annoyance, “Plus I can’t help it, I can’t wait to rip your panties off.”
“Nuh uh mister, the deal was that I have to give you my panties not you taking them off me.”
He snorted and rolled his eyes as you approached the car but before you could get in he grabbed your hand and turned you towards him. He placed his hands on your face and as he pushed your back against the car door he crushed his lips on yours.
He didn’t care about passers-by in any way, in people’s eyes you might have looked like a couple who was passionately making out.
After the first few seconds of surprise, you immediately kissed him back, parting your lips and letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. You knew it was totally unprofessional to kiss your colleague in broad daylight while you were doing your job but all it took was for him to get close for you to lose your mind, no longer able to think clearly.
Your hands moved down his chest to encircle his waist, trying to pull him closer to you than his body already was. Your mouths moved in sync while he seemed to want to suck his soul out of you and although you were now used to kissing him, every time it was as if it was the first.
You almost moaned into the kiss, your body already on fire, wanting more. You wanted him so badly, you wanted his hands, his fingers, his mouth and his tongue all over you.
“Derek please…” you sighed when you broke away, his face still dangerously close to yours.
“Get in the car princess,” he ordered and his voice was so low and seductive that if he had asked you to give him a blowjob right there on the sidewalk you would’ve dropped on your knees without the slightest hesitation.
He opened the door for you and you giggled like a teenager before getting in, thanking him as you watched him walk around the car before getting in too.
“I would’ve fucked you in the car here and now if we weren’t in public. You’re so fucking hot baby,” he whispered against your lips after moving closer to you and taking your chin between his fingers. “But I’ll settle taking your panties off for now.”
He placed a hand on your breast and groped it before sliding it across your stomach to your jeans-covered pussy. You moaned as he began to touch you, making you squirm under his expert fingers.
“I bet you’re already wet, aren’t you honey?” He continued to tease you.
“Fuck Derek… They’ll see us…”
“You’re right,” he replied, stopping touching you, causing you to moan and grunt at the same time. “No one should look at what is mine.”
God Derek Morgan and the things he made you feel. You were starting to really hate him.
“You’re having so much fun aren’t you?”
He started the car but not before throwing you one last mocking and sexy as hell grin. “You have no idea how much.”
You squeezed your legs together in anticipation feeling the urge and desire grow more and more. You continued to look at him as he drove, observing every feature of his perfect profile with your hungry eyes.
How could someone be so perfect?
And it didn’t help he had one hand resting on your inner thigh as his thumb was stroking dangerously close to your intimate area. You didn’t know whether to hate him, to beg him to go higher or both but certainly the smug expression on his face made you want to punch him.
Derek drove to a hidden, dead end road, not caring the rest of the team was probably waiting to hear from both you and him.
He kissed you breathless again, threading a hand into your hair. But he didn’t stay there for long as he moved down your chest again, wasting no time in groping your breasts again, until he reached your pussy again.
“God Derek you’re driving me crazy,” you hissed as you struggled to keep control. He kissed you again and unbuttoned your pants and you lifted your hips before your brain could even process the movement, allowing him to slide them down your thighs. You took off your shoes, slipping your pants off.
He slipped his hands into your underwear and a loud moan escaped your lips that Derek felt right in his dick. “As I imagined… So fucking wet.”
“Fuck yes just like that,” you sighed as his fingers drew circles on your clit. You gripped the sides of the seat as if searching for a leverage, pleasure flowing through your veins.
He knew where to touch you, he knew HOW to touch you, what to do to make you lose your mind and control.
“I'm dying to taste this pussy, look at you soaking up my fingers,” he whispered in your ear, pressing his lips to your neck and sucking on your skin but being careful not to leave any marks. The team already didn’t give you any respite suspecting there was something between you, he certainly didn’t want to give them clear proof.
Two of his fingers slipped easily inside your wet pussy, curling inside you and touching that spongy spot that made you moan and thinking you were about to ascend to heaven.
“Yes, yes, oh god yes,” you kissed him, spreading your legs even more to give him more access.
“You like that don’t you? My pretty girl loves being so dirty, letting me finger this pussy in public.”
You dipped your head back in pleasure, feeling the orgasm already building inside you.
He pulled his fingers out and you grunted at the loss and took off your panties, bringing them to his nose and deeply inhaling the scent that drove him so crazy: you and sex. “Now I really don’t know how I’m going to go through the whole day without being hard knowing I have your panties here,” he spoke up as he stuffed them into his pocket. “We should go back.”
What?
“Derek you can’t leave me like this!”.
“Oh I can’t and I will, we shouldn’t let the others think we might be doing something shouldn’t we?”
“You fucking piece of shit.”
He burst out laughing and you nearly punched him in his handsome face.
You were furious. Irritated.
You were furious, irritated but above all horny.
After that little stunt he had done in the car Derek had really left you like that, without an orgasm and with a mad desire to fuck.
The rest of the day was torture, especially having to work with other people while pretending you didn’t feel like you were on the edge the whole time. You didn’t spare Morgan some dirty looks after which he had to force himself not to laugh but he didn’t spare you those languid looks full of lust either.
It wasn’t easy for you but it wasn’t easy for him either since, unlike you, couldn’t hide his excitement so easily. Knowing he had your panties in his pocket and the memory of your wet pussy were giving him no respite.
In reality, you both loved that little game, teasing and torturing each other until the other lost his mind, even if… To be honest, wearing jeans without underwear was complete torture.
At the end of the day, when you were finally all in your own room, you took the opportunity to take a shower and put on a dress and the sexy lingerie you had put in your bag before leaving for the new case.
You giggled just thinking about Derek’s reaction.
You went to his room, knocking twice before he opened the door making your jaw drop and almost fall to the floor when you realized he was naked and only had a towel around his waist.
His body was still wet, sign he had just gotten out of the shower, the drops running down his sculpted chest that you wanted to lick off one by one.
“Oh man…” He sighed. “You’re breathtaking baby,” he began, shamelessly scanning your body from head to toe, a smirk on his lips. “I was wondering when you were coming.”
“You always opening the door like this, Agent Morgan?” You asked ironically before entering his room without even waiting for him to invite you.
“Woah woah woah, where do you think you’re going baby girl? Where is my kiss?” He scolded you, almost truly offended after closing the door behind him.
You giggled, but unable to take your eyes off his body and stop them from wandering hungrily over his figure.
“No, dry yourself first and then I’ll kiss you,” you replied before going to sit on the edge of the bed, placing your hands behind you on the mattress and tilting your head slightly as you looked at him.
He didn’t answer but came closer to you and placed two fingers on your chin, forcing you to lift your head and pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss that took the air out of your lungs.
“Jealous Agent Y/Ln?” He whispered an inch from your lips, referring to your initial question after making you get up from the bed.
“Not even a little bit, it was just an innocent question agent Morgan.”
Absolutely. You were 100% jealous.
But you knew from the way the corner of his mouth lifted in a twisted, mischievous smile he didn’t believe it one bit. “You know, being a profiler I thought you were better at hiding emotions. Lies don’t look good on you pretty girl.”
“That would be true if I had told a lie but that’s not the case, I’m not jealous at all,” you said with a confident tone as your gaze alternated between his eyes and his lips. He was so close and so tempting you felt like you were already losing patience.
“To answer the question, no, I don’t answer to anyone. Just you.”
“You? Derek Morgan?”.
He chuckled. “Strange right? But it seems like you’ve done some weird witchcraft on me because I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“You already got in my pants, no need to be cheesy,” you retorted, biting your lip to keep from smiling.
He sighed, slightly shaking his head. “Always so cynical. What should I do with you?”
“Give me back my panties?”.
He raised an eyebrow. “Have you forgotten what the word ‘lose’ means?”.
“If I had known you liked them so much I would’ve bought you a new pair to wear you know.”
“You think you’re so funny don’t you?”. He grabbed your face with one hand, his mouth dangerously close to yours but never touching it.
You nodded with a smirk as you watched as his eyes were fixed on your lips. “Maybe you might like what I have now better.”
You took a step back and the look of pure confusion on his face was replaced by astonishment when he saw your hands lower the thick straps of your dress down your arms, then lowering the side zip and letting the dress fall around your feet.
The look of shock on his face was something you’d never forget.
Derek widened his mouth and eyes, letting his hungry gaze travel along your body wrapped in lace lingerie, studying every curve and inch of your skin. A warm feeling spread in your lower abdomen and it was amazing how just the way he looked at you was enough to turn you on.
“Holy shit…” he breathed out, “You… Are… You… Holy fuck…” he continued stuttering, unable to form a single meaningful sentence.
“Wow did I really manage to surprise Agent Morgan?” You giggled, your cheeks flushed and stomach filled with fluttering butterflies, knowing you had such an effect on him. Derek Morgan – the man who with a single smile and a look could’ve make rows and rows of women fall at his feet – was drooling over you, looking at you like you were the eighth wonder of the world.
“I’ll answer you when some blood returns to my brain.”
Your gaze trailed down his body and your insides clenched at the sight of his prominent erection beneath the towel around his waist. Your mouth watered just thinking about what was underneath that single fabric, imagining his dick in your mouth, in every hole in your body as he filled you completely.
“You look spectacular Y/n, my god” he murmured, his chocolate brown eyes still on your body and never on your face. You could see him struggling in not knowing what to pay more attention to, your breasts which were perfectly highlighted by the lace that gave that see-through effect while it showed the shadow of your nipples, if the hold-ups that surrounded your thighs that Derek wanted nothing more than to mark and bite or your pussy also covered in matching lace in which he wanted to dive and feed on it until he drown himself to death.
Derek moved closer to you, closing the small distance between the two of you. “Turn around. Show me this beautiful ass that torments me in my sleep.”
The tone of his voice alone made you almost beg him to do anything he wanted. You didn’t have to be told twice and you turned around, your skin on fire as you felt his penetrating gaze on you as he observed and studied every millimeter of your body.
You heard Derek exhale a deep breath behind you. “A fucking goddess. You’re absolutely mesmerizing.”
A rush of shivers gave you goosebumps as he placed his rough hands on your arms, stroking them slowly before moving up and moving your hair from your shoulders and letting it fall along your shoulder blades, leaving your neck exposed. His lips began to plant kisses on your skin and the mere contact made you sigh and tilt your head to the side, giving him more access.
“Do you have any idea how crazy you drive me?” he whispered in your ear and you clenched your hands into fists, pressing your nails into your palms in an attempt to release the frustration you felt. Every second that passed while he didn’t touch you as you wanted there was a shred of your sanity that was shattered.
You shook your head, realizing you hadn’t answered yet.
His hands went down your arms again, then moving up your hips until they reached your ass. You let out a gasp when his fingers tightened around the flesh of your ass, squeezing it, groping it with the sole purpose of torturing you and leaving you eager for more.
“God the things I want do to you baby, you can’t even imagine.”
“Do it Derek, do whatever you want to me… I need you.”
“I love feeling you so desperate for me.”
An empty feeling came over you as his fingers let go of your ass, moving to your hips. However, you moaned when he pushed his body against yours, pressing his erection against the curves of your ass and grinding against you without shame or restraint.
“Fuck Derek,” you murmured, now on the verge of losing your mind.
One of his hands ended up around your throat, forcing you to bend your head and rest it on his shoulder while the other cupped one of your breasts, palpating it over the top of your bra. You sighed, rubbing your ass against his hard dick as you couldn’t wait for it to stretch your pussy.
“That’s what you do to me, you make me so hard I can’t even think straight anymore.” He pinched your hard nipple from above the fabric. “You have no idea how much I want to rip this off of you but I know you’d kill me,” he chuckled in your ear.
“I don’t give a shit.” You blurted out, not evens embarrassed about how fast you said it.
“What do you want baby? Talk to me.”
God it was so damn hard talking when you were so horny you couldn’t even remember your name, the denied orgasm making things worse.
“You. Fuck me, please. I need you so badly Derek.”
He tightened his hand lightly around your neck, cupping your chin then turning your head towards him and before you knew it he slammed his lips onto yours, sucking the breath from your body as his tongue explored your mouth in a sloppy, deep kiss.
He slowly slid the fingers of his other hand – that until a few seconds before were on your breast – along your chest, your lower abdomen, touching your needy and drenched pussy with his fingertips. You whined during the kiss, spontaneously lifting your hips to try and meet his fingers.
God you were hating him at that moment.
“I can smell your wetness from here, is my baby horny for me?” he whispered on your lips swollen and red from the impetuous kiss.
“I’ll fucking kill you right now Morgan I swear to god.”
He laughed and your stomach clenched in on itself. “Don’t worry baby, I’m here. I’m going to fuck your brains out, so good you won’t even be able to get up when I’m done with you.” This time it was your pussy that clenched when you squeezed your legs together for some friction. Derek let go of your throat and began to play with your panties. Your breath hitched as he slowly began to lower them, trailing them down your legs.
“I think I’ll keep these too,” he whispered even as his voice came loud and clear to your ears. You turned your head to the side so you could look at him and let out a ragged sigh when you saw him kneeling behind you. His eyes shone under the light of the hotel room as they looked at you with so much intensity that they alone would’ve been enough to set you on fire.
He left a kiss on your ass, making you gasp to the point of embarrassment as he bit your skin and groped your now bare ass. “One day I’ll fuck this pretty little ass too and you’ll love every second of it.”
“You can start by fucking my pussy now.”
He chuckled again as he stood up. He placed a hand on your heated back, inviting you to lean on the bed in front of you and you obeyed, resting your hands on the bed and giving him a perfect view of your ass.
“I can see from here how wet you are baby girl,” he moved closer to you, his bare thighs touching yours and then you realized he had removed the towel from his waist.
God have mercy on me.
“I’ll eat this beautiful pussy later but now all I can think about is fucking her so good,” he said as his fingers brushed against you and this little contact, combined with his dirty words, made you squirm with anticipation. “After all, you deserve it after being such a good girl all day.”
You felt him place his tip near your entrance and you both moaned as he slid his dick against your folds, wetting it with your fluids. He provoked you, tortured you with every motion, it was what he was best at, he knew which points to touch to drive you crazy and leave you painfully longing.
“Derek please, I want you so much,” you whined in a pathetic tone full of lust and desire as he continued to penetrate you with just the tip and then pull out. You hated him and wanted him at the same time, so much it hurt.
“What do you want, princess?” His hands gripped your hips and he leaned over you, pressing his lips to your skin before leaving damp, wet kisses all over your back.
“Fuck me.”
“Fuck,” he hissed through gritted teeth before lining his dick up with your entrance and finally filling you.
“Oh God yes, you feel so god Derek.” You panted vigorously, your heart beating so hard it almost stopped as you felt his soft and especially bare skin touching every corner of you.
He remained still for a few moments, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to maintain control of his body. You were so wet and it felt so good being inside you, Derek feared that with just one push he would’ve come on the spot.
“Baby please… Move…”
Baby.
Fuck.
That simple little word had no business making his insides twist like he had. You were used to calling each other nicknames, it wasn’t new, but there was something in that ‘baby’ you said: perhaps it was the vulnerability with which you pronounced it, breathless and as if he was the only one who could save you, the way your voice was so full of desire.
Derek pulled out before thrusting into you again with a strong thrust so deep if it hadn’t been for his hands firmly gripping your hips you would’ve probably fallen forward.
“You have no idea what you do to me, fucking hell you drive me crazy,” he breathed out, head tilted back and eyes closed as his dick pounded into you like he was angry.
You tried to formulate a meaningful sentence but as you opened your lips only gasps and moans came out. He was fucking you so deeply that with each thrust you felt a piece of your brain coming out of your head and your soul out of your body.
Exactly like he promised.
All the hidden frustration made its way and exploded like a time bomb, not much time passing until even the orgasm began to build inside you.
Your face was pressed into the sheets of the bed, your breathing heavy and quickening as your hands clenched the fabric into a fist. “Derek…” you whimpered in pleasure as you pushed your pelvis towards him with each thrust. It didn’t seem to be enough though, you wanted more and more.
One of his hands continued to hold your hips firmly while he slid the other along your back, until he reached your hair which he tightened in a fist forcing you to lift your head. His moans and groans sounded like music to your ears and you couldn’t contain the joy of knowing it was you who made him feel this way, it was you who made him lose control.
“Fuck I could stay inside you forever, you take me so well. This pussy was made for me,” he groaned as the tip of his dick hit your G-spot, making you see stars. You wanted to answer but when you opened your mouth all that came out were moans and sighs. “Just for me… You understand?”
“Just you baby, only you,” you babbled while loudly moaning, not caring one bit if someone could hear you having sex.
His lips kissed your shoulder, his tongue traced every inch of skin he could reach. “That’s right pretty girl…” he groaned in your ear, his sentence interrupted by another moan. “Fuck yeah you’re mine.”
“Holy shit baby… I’m about to come…” You managed to say and the orgasm that hit you full on like a truck gave you no mercy, didn’t let you escape as it sucked away your ability to breath. If it wasn’t for Derek’s hand still in your hair you would’ve collapsed on the mattress.
His thrusts became unhinged, even more out of control than they were before and it didn’t take long for him to reach his climax too. How could he resist? There was no chance, not when your pussy was tightening around his dick in the throes of orgasmic spasms, leaving him no escape.
Derek exploded inside you, emptying himself into you until the last drop of his seed filled your pussy, then leaking from your entrance and sliding down your thighs as he pulled out.
“Shit,” he breathed as you felt the weight of the mattress dip as he collapsed next to you. “You destroy me baby, how do you manage to do this every single time?”
You mumbled something nonsensical in response, eyes closed and too tired to say anything. He chuckled and stroked your hair, brushing it away from your face so he could get a good look at you.
You were so beautiful, ethereal, so mesmerizing it hurt and seeing that happy and pleased look on your face almost sent him to his knees, internally promising himself he’d fight every single person on earth just to always see you so relaxed and happy.
“How many women do you tell this?” you managed to say, opening one eye and keeping the other closed and a flock of butterflies exploded in your stomach when you saw the breathtaking smile he was looking at you with.
“If you think there is someone capable of making me feel what you feel, you’re very wrong. Like I already said, I don’t know what strange witchcraft you did to me but you really hooked me baby.” He propped himself up on one elbow and leaned towards you, pressing small kisses across your face, neck, shoulders and all the way up to your lips. “There is no one else since you came in in my life, I’m so obsessed with you it’s not even funny.”
You opened your second eye too, suddenly not so tired anymore. “Really?”
“Why, isn’t the same for you?” he asked, his stomach clenched with jealousy at the thought of a man laying a finger on you. “Please tell me no or someone help me I will kill every man who even looked at you, I’m an FBI agent and I know how to hide dead bodies in such a way that not even the families will ever find them.”
You burst out laughing, and rolled onto your back before throwing your arms around his neck so you could bring him closer to you and press your lips to his. “Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme?”
“Y/n. Don’t fucking test me.”
“I’m just kidding,” your lips brushed against his before planting another small kiss on them. “There couldn’t be another man even if they forced me, you’ve really messed up my life Agent Morgan and I’m pretty much obsessed with you too.”
“That better be. We’re exclusive since the day I kissed you in that elevator,” he grumbled. “God I love when you call me baby,” he then sighed happily and the way his mood shifted so quickly made. Your fingers caressed his soft, perfect skin and he mumbled with contentment. You noticed how his pupils were so dilated the chocolate surrounding them had almost disappeared. “Mine, only mine.”
“And you’re mine darling, I’m an FBI agent too and I know a thousand ways to make deaths look like accidents.” He pressed his lips to yours again, kissing you so deeply your heart almost stopped in your chest.
Derek Morgan would be the death of you, you were certain of that.
“Just give me five more minutes and I’ll show you how much we belong to each other princess, how much I look, think and breathe for you only.”
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Hey peeps, so this is an idea that randomly came to me, especially since today April 26 would have been my dog Toni’s 17 birthday who passed away a year and half ago. I based the puppy’s appearance off of her as she was a blonde miniature poodle and she also loved cuddles too.
Now here’s the summary: You and your wife Melissa get a puppy for the first time. The puppy and Melissa form an instant attachment but slowly the puppy starts taking over all of Melissa’s time and attention and leaving you behind.
Now don’t yell at me and say I turned up the angst too much, I may have gone to the extreme but stuff like this does happen, especially with dogs who were found on the street or born with anxiety and they tend to overly bond with one person.
Puppy Crazy
Warnings: lots of angst but happy ending I promise *pinky swear*
Words: 3.3k
You and Melissa stare at all the puppies at the shelter. You both have always wanted one and now you’re here to adopt one.
“Any catching your interest?” You ask her.
“That blonde one who seems to like cuddling the other.” She says and you look at the one she’s talking about.
“You want a little cuddler?” You ask with a quirked eyebrow.
“Ya, that way they’ll like me cause I like cuddles too.” She says and you pout.
“I thought I was your little cuddler.” You tell her and she giggles at your response.
“You are, and there’s always room for another in the house.” She tells you and gives you a side hug.
“The blonde one is cute. What would you name her?”
“Eleanora.” She says and you look at her.
“It’s beautiful, what does it mean?” You ask, knowing her family only picks out names carefully due to their meaning.
“Shining light.” She says and you look at the little blonde cuddler and then back at her.
“It’s perfect.”
The person at the shelter goes and picks up the blonde miniature poodle puppy carefully and brings her out. The little puppy is a bit shy, understandable, but she lets you take her home, deeming you’re not a threat.
You stop at the pet store though and little Elea (her first nickname) was so excited. She met a few other dogs there and she attempted to play with them, a couple of them played with her. You got her a collar that fit and a name tag, you got a leash for her as well. You brought her down the toy aisle and Elea picked out a bunch, pretty much whatever she grabbed or pawed at you put in the cart. She helped pick out her new beds, although you drew a line at the ones that were meant for large dogs as you doubt Elea will be more than 15 pounds. You then got her food, food bowls, a toy basket and treats. You also bought a thing of pee pads as she isn’t housebroken yet as she’s 10 weeks old and some poo bags.
Elea stayed on your lap, cautiously, for most of the ride home. It was a nice day so you ended up putting the window down at red lights and she stuck her little nose out and she started sniffing the air.
Once you enter your home, Elea stayed near you or Melissa as it was a space she didn’t know. You guys got to work and you put out her food and water bowl, you filled the water bowl first. The worker at the shelter said she’ll need to eat as she’ll be skipping her dinner time, so you also filled her kibble bowl. Elea munched on her puppy kibble happily as you and Melissa got her things set up. You put the toy basket beside the couch and put most of the toys in there and brought the rest upstairs. You put the leash near the door with your keys and you put her name tag on the collar. You put the treats and kibble in the pantry, and you put 2 beds downstairs, one in the living room and one in the dining room, and the third one upstairs in your bedroom. You then placed a couple pee pads around but knew you’d put them down where she decides to pee later on.
Once Elea finished eating, she started sniffing around and found her toys and pulled most of them out. Melissa found the sight so cute as her little tail was wagging the whole time. Melissa got on her knees and stuck her hand out and Elea came up slowly and sniffed her hand before giving little nibbles on her hand to play with her. Melissa took a toy and started moving it around the floor and Elea chased it around. You couldn’t tear them apart so you made dinner instead. When dinner was ready, Melissa came in holding Elea in her arms and she was fast asleep.
“Aw. That’s so cute.” You whispered.
Halfway through dinner, Elea woke up and Melissa put her down as she got a burst of energy. You both ended up playing with her for most of the evening, although she seemed to go more towards Melissa.
At nighttime, Melissa carried her up the stairs as she got too scared to do it herself, and Melissa put her on the floor at the top and Elea explored the upstairs while you two got ready for bed. When you were ready, you called Elea but she didn’t come, Melissa called her and this time she came.
“That’s favouritism.” You complained and crossed your arms and Melissa giggled.
“Oh Amore, don’t hate me because she likes me more. You’ll always be my favourite human.” She tells you and you glare at her then get into the bed. Melissa ends up bringing Elea into the bed and you roll your eyes. Honestly you would do the same. Melissa spooned you and she whispered that Elea is cuddled into her back and you let out a little “aw”. She may prefer your wife but she’s too cute to hate.
The next day, Elea jumped in the shower with you two and then immediately jumped out and let out little puppy barks and ran around the bedroom until you got out. When Melissa was cooking breakfast, you filled Elea’s food bowl with some kibble and she inhaled her kibble. When she was done she went over to the dining table where you were eating and she sat down between you two and begged but mostly looked at Melissa. Melissa did end up caving and put a piece aside for her to which she put her bowl when she was finished.
After you decided to go for a walk with Elea. You and Melissa were both teachers but it was the beginning of summer break so you could stay at home and train and bond with Elea. Melissa ended up holding the leash and brought a couple treats to give to Elea and you held on to the poo bags. One Elea peed outside, Melissa pet her and gave her a treat right away. Elea wagged her tail when Melissa was petting her and swatted her little paws around as she hasn’t grown into them yet. She got on her back when her and Melissa were playing and she kept pawing at Melissa and giving her playful puppy nibbles. To which you took a bunch of pictures. You got her less than 24 hours ago and you already have 30 pictures of Elea on your phone, you realised that’s more than you took of Melissa when you were dating her for 4 years. But you shrug it off, I mean it’s probably accurate for all animal owners.
When you got home from the walk, Melissa carried Elea in her arms while she was sleep and went to sit on the couch. You brought Melissa a cup of water to which she thanked you for and drank the whole thing. 20 minutes later, Elea woke up and bounced out of Melissa’s arms and on to the couch. She got down after 2 minutes of trying and ended up slipping off the couch but Melissa congratulated her either way. Elea walked around and decided to drink some water then pulled the majority of toys out of her basket that you put away last night and you groaned.
“Why bother with a toy basket or putting them away.” You complained and Melissa laughed and came up to hug you. Elea saw you two hug and wanted in on it too. Melissa of course complied and went and picked her up, then you three had a little family hug. During the hug Elea licked you both on the face and you both laughed. You both played and ran around with Elea for most of the day. You then fed Elea her dinner kibble while Melissa got dinner ready.
“You fed her so many treats today, I’m surprised she still has room.” You told Melissa and she just shrugs.
“She’s a growing puppy, she needs to eat.” Melissa says and you laugh.
“I love you, you know. Never change.” You tell her and you wrap your arms around her waist.
“I don’t plan too Amore. And I love you too.” She tells you then turns around and gives you a quick kiss on the lips then finishes getting dinner ready.
And just like at breakfast, Elea begs, at Melissa mostly, for some human food, and again, Melissa caves and gives her the piece when finished in her food bowl.
After dinner, you both settle on the couch and Melissa picks Elea up when she whines and you put on a Disney movie. You chose the little mermaid and you kept glancing over at Melissa petting Elea’s head while Elea nuzzles her head in Melissa’s lap and falls asleep. You lean your head on Melissa’s shoulder and she wraps an arm around you. Halfway through the movie, Elea wakes up and starts barking. You pause the movie and get her leash to take her out. You take Elea out as Melissa did it before supper and she does her pees. You bring her back in and she goes right to Melissa to get picked up again, which Melissa does and she goes and falls asleep on her lap with Melissa scratching her head.
The rest of the month goes like this, and you end up bringing her to puppy class and teach her some commands, go to a dog park to introduce her to other dogs and introduce her to some family members that you’ll see multiple times a year.
Melissa and Elea end up spending a lot of time together and while it shouldn’t bother you, it is taking a lot of your Melissa time away. You knew you wouldn’t spend as much time with Melissa when you get a puppy but Elea is demanding ALL of Melissa’s attention and it’s started to make you a little jealous. Like you couldn’t have sex without Elea demanding Melissa’s attention. You’re starting to think that dog just wants Melissa away from you, cause maybe she doesn’t like you.
Like when you’re having sex, at the beginning, when Melissa is kissing your neck, Elea comes over on the bed and starts biting Melissa’s hair and doing her little puppy barks. Melissa eventually gives in and gives her attention to Elea and you end up having to use the vibrator.
It was cute at first but not being able to touch your wife, like sometimes not even a nice long kiss of like 10 seconds. Cause everytime you do, Elea comes over and gets Melissa’s attention. You’ve tried to get Elea to like you more but her and Melissa bonded exceptionally quick and you don’t know why.
Melissa thinks it’s funny when you complain that Elea is getting all her attention, everytime you bring it up.
“I swear it’s like she doesn’t even like me and is just separating us. Like she gets all your attention and I get the scrapes.” You complained one night and she just brought you to lean on her shoulder while Elea laid on her lap. Melissa rubbed your arm while she scratched Elea’s head. She loves her 2 girls, y/n and Elea and she wouldn’t change it a thing.
“Y/n, if you think about it, Elea went through a lot. She ended up at the shelter cause she was found on the street. When she was like 3 weeks old and spent 7 weeks at that shelter. Then she comes home with us and everything is new. She just bonded to one of us and wants comfort to help soothe her.” Melissa explains and you take a deep breath.
“I know, you’re right, it’s just a little annoying right now cause I can barely touch my wife, without little sunshine here interrupting us. And you always give her the attention.” You say and cross your arms. “Like I wanted a puppy too and I barely get time with either of you individually.” You say and before Melissa can say anything, Elea gets up and starts barking and Melissa gets up to take her outside as it’s her turn. You huff as Melissa carries Elea downstairs then outside.
When Melissa gets back, you’re asleep so she just climbs into bed with Elea, puts Elea in front of you, turns off the light and cuddles you. She sees Elea go to nuzzle her head into you and you unconsciously move your arm and she climbs underneath. Melissa smiles then falls asleep.
The next morning you wake up and Elea is underneath your arm and Melissa on your back and for a second you think you’re dreaming. You then fully wake up and realise that it’s real. For one, Elea and Melissa stayed apart and two, Elea is cuddling you instead of Melissa.
“I told you she likes you.” Melissa says quietly and you smile.
And as if knowing you’re awake, Elea wakes up and demands to be taken outside.
“I’ll take this one while you wake up.” Melissa tells you and you nod.
“Thank you.” You tell her and she picks Elea up who wags her little tail.
Another month goes by and it’s more or less the same, Elea cuddles and plays with you sometimes but still is overly bonded to Melissa. It’s starting to really frustrate you and you’ve ended up starting fights with Melissa to which you apologise to her later, and she always forgives you.
Melissa does start to clue in that Elea is taking a lot of her attention away from her wife but can never say no to those sad little puppy eyes.
When school starts back up, Melissa spends 10 minutes saying goodbye to Elea while you wait in the car on your phone. She finally leaves when you threaten to drive there without her, even though she knows you won’t. Due to barely being able to be physical with your wife or any physical touch, any kisses at school dropped drama from last year and even the Abbott crew notices and questions you about it at the end of the week.
“Melissa has a new wife now.” You grumble out and they all look at you confused.
“She’s talking about the puppy and she’s gotten a little jealous that Elea prefers spending time with me.” Melissa explains and they all have their mouths shaped in an ‘O’ form.
“That’s not what I’m angry about and you know it. I’m angry because she takes away all your time, I can barely kiss or hug you.” You grit at her and then you get up and walk out of the break room. You hide away in your classroom the rest of the day, you didn’t even let Melissa in when she came to check on you a few times.
Melissa was starting to get worried about you but doesn’t know what to do. So she went to Barb.
“I mean I don’t know what I should do, I mean we can’t give Elea back to the shelter because she’s our dog now and I know that no matter how angry y/n is, she’ll never agree to give her back anyway.” Melissa complains and slumps back to the wall.
“Melissa, you’re missing the point. Y/n isn’t angry she’s upset cause she feels she doesn’t have a wife anymore.” Barb states. “I’ve noticed how detached you both are from each other since you got the puppy. And I know that puppies require a lot of attention and time, y/n knows that too. But maybe you spend a little too much time on Elea.” Barb states. “Like Elea is like a child right. And sometimes you just have to let children do things themselves.” Barb explains and Melissa sighs.
“I know, I guess I got too wrapped up with Elea.” Melissa says.
“I know and I know y/n knows too. If she didn’t then she would be a lot more angry right now.” Barb says and Melissa chuckles.
Melissa plans to take you out on a date tomorrow to spend time with you but you immediately decline and Melissa frowns.
“Wouldn’t you rather go with Elea instead of me?” You tell her.
“No, I’d rather go with my wife.” She tells you and you scoff.
“Like I said, wouldn’t you rather go with Elea.” You repeat and before she can say anything else, Elea comes running in and barks to go out. “Oh look, your wife is calling you.” You tell her and go upstairs.
When Melissa returns she sits on the couch and thinks about how to change things. She gets an idea and goes upstairs to where you’re on the bed, on your phone pouting. She brings Elea up with her and she sits on the bed and puts Elea on your lap.
You refuse at first and then Elea whines for your attention and you start petting her a bit but then she nuzzles into you and she falls asleep.
“Look y/n, I’m sorry that I put all my attention on her. I didn’t notice and I was so excited about this puppy and that she bonded to me more. I guess I didn’t kinda forget about my wife. I mean we did basically only accomplish sex completely probably 4 times this summer.” She says and you glare at her.
“It was never just the sex, I mean ya it’s part of it but I would like my wife back.” You tell her and cross your arms. “You’re gonna have to start giving less attention to Elea or I might leave.” You tell her and she looks at you.
“Isn’t that a little dramatic?” She says. You whip your head at her and glare. You then pick Elea up and place her in Melissa’s lap then you walk out.
You end up sleeping in the guest bedroom the entire weekend, to Mel’s very reluctant begging. She even tried sneaking in during the night but you caught her and was sent back to the main bed. She then realised that nighttime is pretty much the only physical contact you two still have, cuddling at night, and you're asleep for most of it.
So she decides to make some changes. She starts putting a fluffy blanket down at the foot of the bed and Elea starts sleeping on that, while you two cuddle. She got anti anxiety beds for Elea and you two are able to have sex and cuddle on the couch. She goes on walks everyday with Elea and you, and insists you hold the leash while she has an arm around your waist. If you two are kissing and Elea barks to get Melissa’s, you at first pulled away, thinking Melissa will give her the attention but Melissa’s starts pulling you back and ignoring Elea for a bit until giving her attention.
Little by little you start to get your wife back and Elea’s overly attached bond with Melissa starts turning into a normal bond and Elea even starts bonding with you now.
By end of September, Melissa has you back in her arms, where you should be and a cute puppy with a normal relationship bond with both of you. She fully admits she went a little puppy crazy and forgot about the other important person in her life. But now she’s back to holding you in one arm while Elea is snuggling on both of you.
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#melissa schemmenti x reader#melissa schemmenti x oc#melissa schemmenti x you#melissa schemmenti#x reader#fanfic
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Me: Asks you to educate yourself, providing easy access to videos that, turns out, directly address the issues that make you dislike vivziepop and provide more context than tumblr and twitter hate threads ever do
You responded to that quickly I know you didn't bother watching. Bruh. I told you a lot of the hate around Vivziepop isn't valid and you don't check it out? See if any of your concerns fell under the one video I directly recommended?? The creator had timestamps too.
Going to the video would have told you the one nazi oc was from eight years ago. And it wasn't even hers! The Vivziepop drama playlist goes in depth about the updates concerning the people Vivziepop has worked with. Which SEVERAL people that worked with her came out to defend her and provide their experiences
You'd find out if you had just watched the videos, the proof, that people love to hate on Vivizie for clout and to farm likes and attention. They take screenshots out of context, go on tangents without proof, etc.
And expect you to believe them.
SO I'll do this one more time to address what specifically you said you disliked about Vivzie.
This playlist has all the videos I will talk about and more. So, if you know of any other drama and controversy surrounding Vivziepop you should probably consult that before forming your opinion: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLOWIXPh0p7CzgQoUIl7rqd8oz2Ym6V9XY&si=lhDApDPhX5sWyTHA
Again, it can be found by typing into the Youtube search bar, "ayy lmao vivziepop drama"
You'll find their playlist "Vivziepop Drama Playlist" right there or even just going to the youtube channel "Ayy Lmao" and looking through the playlists.
Specifically addressing what makes you dislike Vivziepop:
The one Nazi oc, the only one to exist, is discussed in "Why everyone hates Vivziepop" at 20:07 and in "The Truth Behind Vivziepop" at 5:07 The latter has more information on that and it only takes TWO MINUTES to watch! With screenshots and proof and everything.
If you heard somewhere that there were multiple, did where you heard that have a source? To, y'know, back up the claim? If you can find it that would be lovely otherwise that is just an allegation either someone told you or you are misremembering.
The drama concerning their workplace goes mainly from the beginning of the playlist to "Vivziepop Erin Frost Drama Round 3"
Multiple artists and people that worked with Vivziepop come out in support of Vivziepop and debunk claims made by others in "Helluva boss employees debunk Vivziepop allegations (Vivziepop drama Part 4)"
I'm not sure what you are referring to when you say "the way she treats her friends" and since you haven't provided any sort of source I can only guess that you may be thinking about the ugly situation covered in "Vivziepop Spindlehorse Drama Explained"
I can already tell by the amount of people responding to the first ask I sent that you have a platform, at least a larger audience compared to the average user. If you have problems with x y and z thing about Vivziepop, provide links and proof to what concerns you in the future.
If you don't remember or can't find that proof. Watch the videos. That simple. Put it on in the background, educate yourself, before you spread any more misinformation. Please.
Then form your opinion. It's a lot and I know it is a lot but you need to know this before jumping on the bandwagon of canceling someone. Especially if you have a large audience.
Vivziepop drama and hatedom is so exhausting you wouldn't BELIEVE IT. People are constantly spewing hate without providing PROOF. THEY'RE ALLEGATIONS! Even with "proof" most are out of context and bad faith. There is a motive to lie about someone as well known as Vivziepop
I'm not asking you to like her I'm asking you to educate yourself before repeating what you've heard and provide sources to back them up.
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Salutations! I’m in the process of creating a story wherein both characters are missing an eye. One has a prosthetic, but is presently isolating themself in the woods, and wears an eyepatch to protect the eye while alone; the other’s socket is either empty, or they have a glass eye with no actual details (iris, pupil, etc.). I’ve struggled to find references for the latter, and fear it may come off as unrealistic. I understand prosthetic eyes keep the eyelid from collapsing, but aside from that could a person just not wear one? If these options are unrealistic, please let me know. I can supply you with concept art if need be.
The story itself centers around these characters after one of them finds the other by accident. They’re painted as foils—the one hiding out in the cabin adhering to a self-made sense of logic that centers on cycles and confirmation bias, while the only who takes refuge there after running away is deeply paranoid and prone to hallucinations. The first character is missing their left eye; the other their right. I don’t want to make a symbol of their disabilities, but I feel their designs simultaneously stress their opposing perspectives, as well as the fact they paradoxically still manage to see “eye-to-eye.” Their visual impairment is just one of many ways they’re able to connect across the story, as they also bond over their obscure passions and delusions, and respect each other’s warped worldview to such an extent said worldviews start to blur together. In addition to this, the story places an emphasis upon an entity known as the “ocellus,” which is basically the “false eye” you see on moth wings. In my outline so far, it’s the name of a mysterious band which the pair discover in a record collection, and resolve to solve the mystery of (regarding the members, music, etc.) One of the characters also sleeps with an eye mask with the pattern of moth wings and their respective ocelli overlaying their own eyes; their paranoid counterpart also sees eyes in the trees and wood of the cabin.
Absolutely none of this is set in stone; before it is, I just want to know how much of it is fine, which parts “moralize” or make a symbol of a disability, and what is straight-up ableist. Please let me know if you need more details.
Hi!
The prosthetic eye has two main functions: 1) to keep the eye area stay in shape, 2) to protect the socket. Both of these can be achieved by conformers (it's like a big contact, except it goes into the socket and not on the eye) which I talked about here!
A blank prosthetic eye would probably be fine. The process of getting it custom painted is expensive from what I know, and IRL a lot of people will decide on the generic kind rather than a custom. If in your world the generic happens to be a blank, there's no problems I can think of? Potentially, you could explicitly say that it's not how most prosthetic eyes look like (maybe someone else knows a person with an eye prosthetic and they comment that it's unusual?). You mentioned that the character doesn't have it in all the time, so I don't think the trope of "blind character has blank/white/milky eyes" applies here because it's clear that it's a prosthetic.
A person could decide to go bare, but the sensation of blinking could be uncomfortable, and they would need to clean their socket more to get rid of anything that could get inside. Normal saline could be used for that.
I don't think there's an issue in them missing different eyes at all. If you want to make sure it's not giving "Just Magic Symbolism" energy then you could incorporate some boring everyday things that would make sense. If they go somewhere together, they could decide to walk missing eye-to-missing eye, so that they see what's going on the sides rather than in the middle, things like that. It could make it feel more grounded, so to speak.
I don't see any issues with the moth fake-eyes symbolism either, I think it makes sense for the story you're trying to tell.
If you want to be very safe, I would have a character (can be minor, or background) that's also missing eye(s) that's not connected to any of the potential symbolism and is more of an average Joe of Not Having an Eye.
In case you decide to get into that, it would be nice for them to have different causes of why they don't have eyes. It feels like in fiction it's always physical trauma, but there's a whole more that could cause someone to not have an eye;
anophthalmia,
retinoblastoma,
severe eye infection,
elective enucleation (removal) of an already blind/painful eye,
just to give you a few ideas! Giving them "boring" everyday reasons of eye loss will also make it feel less symbolic and more like a regular disability. Think "dramatic swordfight with Huge Meaning" vs "yeah I had cancer in my eye when I was 2".
I hope that this helps; if you have any further details you'd like to ask about feel free to send another ask!
mod Sasza
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A 'Jason & Tim Join the Bat Family Early' fic in which Jason and Tim meet six months to a year before Jason would have met Bruce in canon.
Jason spends a lot of time at the Gotham City Library for warmth/air conditioning/safety, education and entertainment. Tim spends a lot of time there too, doing homework and reading for fun/education since he prefers it to his usually empty house. They meet when Jason helps Tim reach a book that's too high for him and ends up commenting on it. They start by just reading in the same space and talking while Jason waits with Tim at the bus stop. Eventually, they start hanging out outside the library, fist chatting on the steps and eventually getting pizza or burgers (Jason isn't to proud to accept food when Tim offers to pay) moving to the nearest park where they can talk about what they're reading.
Tim realizes that Jason is homeless but at first doesn't say anything because he doesn't want to upset or offend his new friend. When Thanksgiving Break approaches, he broaches the subject to suggest Jason come stay with him during it, since his parents won't be home. Jason trust Tim by then, and he really likes the idea of having unlimited access to a shower/bed/food/heating, so he accepts. They get along well enough, and the Drakes are gone often enough, that they decide to basically move Jason in. The maids only come a couple times a week, gardeners once a week, and the grocery delivery every other week, and none of them are allowed in Tim's room, so it's easy enough for Jason to either hide form them, be at the library when they come, or pass himself off as a friend visiting Tim.
This goes on for months before Tim decided that, as much as he loves Jason and loves having him there, the older boy deserves to have a real home with a real family. And he knows of the perfect family.
Tim may know a little more about Dick Grayson's schedule than is normal, but it works in his favor that he's able to make sure he and Jason happen to be at a museum exhibit Dick's also attending. They meet and it's nothing huge, but Tim notices the older teen glancing at him and Jason periodically. Later, the same thing happens at the aquarium. And then Little Paris. By then, Dick is basically ready to adopt Jason himself. Of course, Bruce does so instead once he tells him his plans.
(This has the added benefit of bridging the divide between Bruce and Dick at this time)
The Drakes' house is just on the other side of Bristol, which is easily the safest neighborhood in Gotham, so Tim can just ride his bike or skateboard over to hang out with Jason at Wayne Manor. Instead of the library or the Drakes' empty house, the boys start hanging out at Jason's new home.
Now, it's Jason's turn to get Tim (and his negligent parents) on his new family's radar so they'll adopt him, too.
After some training, Dick happily passes the Robin mantle to Jason, who happily shares it with Tim once the younger boy is old enough.
[Bonus: Dick checks around the Todd's old place to see if there's anything left of Jason's parents, since he knows he cherishes everything he has from his own. He gets the box of family records from their old neighbor and learns that Catherine wasn't Jason's biological mother. He and Bruce decide to quietly locate her and make sure she's safe for Jason to meet. They learn about Shelia's crimes, and arrange for her to be arrested, giving Jason the choice to visit her in prison or not. During their search, they learn about Lady Siva having a kid and decide to look into that, which leads to them bringing Cassandra home a couple years early. Jason and Tim are delighted to have a big sister.]
#fic ideas I haven't the time for#ficlet#fanfiction#dc#comics#Bat Family#AU#jason todd#tim drake#tim wayne#dick grayson#bat brothers#batpups#bruce wayne#alfred pennyworth#cassandra cain#batman#robin#nightwing#batgirl
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Church Girl, Don't Hurt Nobody Part 2 (Slight NSFW)
Synopsis: The time has now come for you to confront your mother about your relationship with Jack. Your mind is already made up, and the last thing that you would ever do is ruin your happiness. It doesn't go as planned, and you are left with a lot to think about.
Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader
Read Part 1 first
Requested by: so many of you lol so I had to run it back
Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere
You currently had both of your legs on your boyfriend's shoulders as his face was between your thighs with the sunlight peeking through the floor length windows.
This had been going on for close to a week since you were hiding out from your parents for as long as you could. You knew that you were going to have to face them sooner or later, but later was beginning to sound better and better.
After Jack had found out from his friends the truth about you as well as your family, he was obviously upset, but could understand from your point of view why you did it once you had explained everything to him and had a few days to think about. He was lowkey still upset about it, but didn’t want to let you see it since now everything was out in the open and he knew your mind was on overdrive. He had lost track of how many times you had cried about it.
You were scared shitless of what was about to happen when you went home and was putting it off for as long as you could. Of course that night even though Jack was clearly upset with you, he wanted for you to stay with him. In the back of his mind, even though he initially said that he was probably going to break up with you because you lied to him, he quickly changed his mind after hearing your explanation and the bottom line was he didn't want to be without you.
Your phone had been going off nonstop since the picture was posted and you hadn’t answered anyone. You were actually surprised that not once did your mother call you and you knew that she was pissed. But at this point, should you even care what she thought about you? Your fate was sealed anyway.
After the picture was posted the two of you were sitting across from each other in silence. You knew he was mad at you and you were trying to create a plan in your head for the both of you to get through this with no harm done, but you were coming up short.
You were always so careful when going out at night and the one time you weren't, someone snapped a photo of you.
Wanting to give your boyfriend some space (if he was still your boyfriend at that point for that matter since you didn't know) you didn’t even say anything and had gotten up to start making your way to the door but as you went to open it, you saw Jack's hand come from behind you to close it.
"Where are you going?" Jack asked from behind you and when you didn't answer him, he turned you around to face him with tears in your eyes and a trembling lip and knew they were about to fall down.
"I… just… you're my escape and my peace from everything that goes on around me and it's just why can I never do anything for myself? Why can't I do what I want? I am 27 years old, still sneaking out of my parents house to see my boyfriend. And I'm sorry for dragging you into this. I should have been honest from the beginning and I'm sorry for that.”
"Dragging me into what? I don't regret asking you to be my girlfriend so don't you think that for a second."
He wanted to be with you for the long haul and this was just something that the two of you had to face together. He was going to do his best to protect you to the best of his ability from the world and also your parents.
“Talk to me in a week and we'll see if you feel the same way.”
“The way I feel about you isn't going to go away in a week so I know that my answer is going to be the same.”
“I don't even know where to begin to fix this.”
“Let me ask you this. What exactly needs to be fixed? We're together like we want to be aren’t we? So what's the problem? You know that they already don't approve so fuck it.”
—
"Damn, baby it's like Niagara Falls down here." Jack said as he looked down at his fingers.
"You want a side of eggs with that?"
"HUH?"
"Pussy juice, side of eggs, that's my breakfast." You said while repeating Jack's lyrics to him and giggling.
All Jack did was smirk and laugh at you.
"Nah, I don't need the eggs. This is enough to get me full." Jack said as he grabbed your legs to pull you towards the end of the bed and you let out a yelp.
Jack then leaned down to kiss you and you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer to give him several more. When he finally pulled away, he began to place kisses all over your face making you laugh.
Next thing you knew, you felt him slide into you and you immediately gasped since you had been caught off guard.
He was going at a slow, even pace taking his time to give you as much pleasure as possible to take your mind off of everything going on around you.
You then wrapped your left leg around him wanting for him to get as deep as he possibly could.
You were now laying on Jack's chest as his arm was wrapped around you in a comfortable silence and Jack was the one to break it.
"Baby, as much as I want to, we can't hide out in my condo forever. I have to promote this album and I've already done what I could to push it back for a week to make sure you were okay.”
"I know and I appreciate you for doing that for me because you definitely didn't have to. I'm not okay in the slightest, but I know that I just have to deal.”
"I would do anything for you. You know that. And I'm going to make sure you get to the point where you are okay." Jack replied as he leaned down to kiss your forehead.
"I just… don't want to face them. My mother more than anyone else."
"I don't like how she has it where you're actually scared of her."
“I… it's not the fact that I'm scared of her. I just know that no matter how perfect I try to be, that it will never please her and that I'm always going to fall short. All of my siblings don't care for me either except my big sister Eden. Because I'm the only one that will somewhat challenge my parents. It's always been this way.”
“Just know that I only want the best for you and want you to be happy. You deserve that and not be stressed out all the time over what someone else might think about you.”
“I know.” You quietly answered, but your mind was still running a mile a minute.
“You think that you'll be okay when I leave later tonight? I'd rather you come with me. I just don't want to leave you here with them.”
“I don't really have a choice. I have to face them sooner or later. Even if I don't want to.”
“Look if anything happens, anything at all. Say the word and I'll come and get you.” Jack said as he moved a curl out of your face and lightly kissed your nose.
“You're going to be busy and the last thing I want to be is a distraction.”
“Baby, I can promise that you won't be. I would rather have you with me instead of people who upset you on a daily basis. Because how is that a good thing? You don't need to be in that type of environment.” Jack replied as he started playing with the bracelet that graced your wrist that he gifted you.
“She's probably never going to let me sing again.” You quietly said as you felt tears prick the corners of your eyes.
“Why do you need her permission to do it? Just because she might not want you to sing there, doesn't mean you have to stop altogether. Still not over how amazing your voice is and how well you hid that from me.”
“Trust me, it wasn't easy.” You said while laughing.
“No more secrets. Promise?”
“Promise.”
After you had helped Jack pack all of his things and the two of you decided to have a quick dinner together, it was time for you to make your way back home as much as you didn't want to while Jack was set to go to New York.
He had given you several kisses, but you were still holding onto him for dear life not wanting to let him go just yet.
“You know you can come with me. The offer still stands. Because now you are definitely stalling.” He said while looking down at you. Jack knew your mind was made up, but he didn't want you going back there at all. If your mom is as bad as you had told him, he wanted to keep you far away from her.
“As much as I want to, I have to do this. I don't want to drag it out longer.”
“Tell me when you get there and what happens when you two talk. I just have a strong feeling that you are about to call me in tears and that is the last thing that I want. If I have to protect you from your own family, then so be it.”
“It might go better than we think.” You said trying to reassure him.
“Babe, are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
“Hmm, maybe both? But I promise to call if something happens.”
Wearing one of Jack's hoodies and a pair of your black leggings, it was around 10 at night once you had slipped through the entrance to your part of the house.
Once in your bedroom, you turned on the light to see your big sister Eden once again staring at you.
“For future reference, if you are trying to hide out with your boyfriend, turn off your location. Even though you only share it with me.”
“You have got to stop sneaking up on me, Eden!”
“Not a chance. I let you have your fun but now I'm about to yell but this is only out of love and concern.”
You simply nodded as you took a seat next to her on your bed.
“Now you know you can tell me anything and I will never hold it against you. Being in this family is hard enough and you are my baby sister. If you would have come to me, I would have helped you to tell them.”
“I… so many times I wanted to. But I was just scared. He's really important to me and I didn't want anyone or anything to ruin it. Not that I think you would, but everyone else. What did they say when they found out?”
“That was the first time I actually heard your mother cuss if that explains anything. And she was on Google looking him up for about two hours.” Eden replied and you couldn't help but to laugh.
“And dad?”
“He simply shrugged and said if she's happy, then I'm fine with it.”
“I figured that he would be the one to say that.”
“And she was also upset that you have been M.I.A. obviously.”
“Why does she need to know my every move? She needs to get over herself.”
“You let me know when that happens. Anyway, tell me EVERYTHING. He's really cute and I'm definitely not surprised you two are together. A good match if I do say so myself.”
“Well we met at Taylor's birthday party a while ago and we've been talking ever since. It was only recently that he asked me to be his girlfriend. I've already met his parents and his brother and I absolutely adore them. His friends I only met at the album release party, but so far so good. He's funny, sweet, caring, always putting my feelings into consideration and I just love being around him. I know that you and dad would like him. I really don't care about anyone else.”
“And you shouldn't. He makes you happy and that's the important part and all that matters. As long as he is treating you right, we won't have a problem. Now did you even tell him about…?”
“No, he didn't know and I believe his friends told him and explained it to him which he was mad about and I can understand that. I wasn't honest and I should have been. He forgave me and we're just moving forward. I told him everything including how I know she hates me.”
“I can only imagine the look on his face. And I don't think she hates you. She hates that she can't control you.”
“Yeah, and then the picture didn't help.”
“Did anyone else know about you two? Perhaps, Tania?” Eden asked while eyeing you.
“Yes and she was sworn to secrecy. Just her and no one else.”
“Soooo, when can I meet him?”
“Well he's going to be busy promoting his album, but I'm sure if I bring it up he'll make time for it. I talk to him about you all the time.”
“I don't think I've ever seen you this happy and I hope the two of you stay together for the long haul.”
As Jack was sitting on the plane and playing with his phone, Urban came and sat next to him and simply eyed him.
“Uh, Urb? Can I help you?” Jack asked as he laughed.
“Are you and Y/N okay? Did she talk to her parents yet?”
“We're fine but not yet. She said she would tell me when it happened. I already told her that I feel like she's going to call me in tears. I wanted her to come with me but she said that she just wanted to get it over with.”
“I hope she'll be okay. It seems like she's never been able to do what she wants.”
“She hasn't. But Neelam told us both not to say anything about it for now hoping that it would eventually blow over. The last thing I wanted to do was leave her in Louisville, but her mind was made up.”
“If her mother is as bad as she claims her to be, I know that this conversation that they are supposed to have is not going to go over well.”
“I'm literally just waiting for her to call me.”
“I wonder what they'll even say to her, I mean she's a whole adult.”
“And from the way that she talks about her, that clearly doesn't matter. She still looks at her like she's a little kid and it doesn't help that she's the youngest either.” Jack replied while shaking his head.
“I know she means a lot to you from the way that you talk about her.”
“She does, I'm just trying to let her see that it's okay to do what makes you happy and to not care what anyone else thinks about it.”
—
You and Eden hid out in your room until the next morning when you figured that it was time to face her. After taking a shower, you slipped on a yellow sundress along with white wedge sandals and straightened your hair. It was time for breakfast, so you started making your way towards the dining room.
Once you entered the room, all eyes were on you as you took your respective seat in between Eden and Grace. Eden sent you a soft smile while Grace rolled her eyes at you. Matthew and Malachi simply exchanged glances with each other along with their spouses as your mother was burning a hole into you with her gaze. Your dad was simply reading his morning paper as he always did and sent you a small smile. You knew when it came down to it, the only people that you could truly count on in your family was your dad and Eden.
As the breakfast spread was placed on the table, your mother was the first to speak.
“Y/N, you have some nerve showing back up here like you didn't do anything.”
“I haven't done anything wrong and the last time I checked, I lived here.” You responded while piling your plate high with eggs, hash browns, and fruit.
“You call a night on the town with a well known rapper nothing? Where people saw the two of you together?”
“Adalaide….” Your father said to your mother in a warning tone, but she simply brushed him off.
“When you leave this house, you are representing this family, and so far this week, you have been nothing but an embarrassment.”
“That's your opinion and you're entitled to it. I am a grown woman who can do anything she wants and I don't need your approval. I have been under your thumb since the day I was born and have been in control of how I dress, who I talk to, my hair, my makeup, and my career path. It's time that I take control of my life without having you criticizing me.”
"No daughter of mine is going to serve the Lord and then be spreading her legs wide open for her rapper boyfriend. And don't even lie and say that you haven't. You look like the type to give it up to any man who ever glanced your way. And of course you think he loves you because he's told you exactly what you want to hear!"
“MOM!” Eden exclaimed while looking at her in disbelief but all she did was take a sip of her tea.
"You don't even know him!"
"I know enough and I don't care to have you in my sight any longer. It's clear that you have chosen him over your family. So do me a favor and get out. Leave your house key on the table in the foyer. If he loves you so much as you claim he does, go live with him. And I for damn sure better not see you at my church singing for the Lord on Sunday."
“Adalaide, that's enough! If that's who she loves, who are we to stop it? We want all of our children happy and he obviously makes her happy." Your dad said while shaking his head at her.
“Then she can go and be happy with him and not be under my roof taking up space.”
“Now that's taking it a little too far.” You heard Grace say which you were surprised by.
“She's literally not hurting anyone and always did what you wanted her to do. Why are you ruining the one thing she's done for herself?” Your oldest brother Malachi asked and she rolled her eyes.
“What I said still stands. I want her out and if all of you have a problem with it, you can go and follow her. You better be out of my house by midnight and don't bother showing your face here or at church ever again. As far as I'm concerned, I only have two daughters now.”
A collective gasp was heard at the table, and all you could do was laugh to yourself before saying anything.
“Y/N, don't you get up from this table. You are a part of this family as much as anyone else.”
“It's okay, dad. Trust me, it is. I know how she feels about me.”
“This is entirely uncalled for.” Matthew said while looking at your mother who waa unfazed. You simply turned towards her before speaking.
“Keep in mind what you just told me and don't you dare crawl back to me later and try to apologize. If you want me out, fine. The next time I see you will be at your fucking funeral and not a moment sooner. I'll prove to you that I never needed someone like you in my life to begin with.”
“Y/N!” Grace called after you as you pushed yourself away from the table and made your way into the direction of your room.
You held your head high and was determined not to let the tears fall. You finally stood up to her and didn't regret saying what was on your mind.
Grabbing your phone, you facetimed Jack who immediately answered and could tell that something was wrong from the look on your face.
“Baby….”
“She literally just disowned me.”
#jack harlow#jack harlow fic#jack harlow concepts#jack harlow x reader#jack harlow x black reader#jack harlow fanfic#jack harlow fluff#jack harlow angst#jack harlow imagine#jack harlow fanfiction
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