#stuck them together and was like ‘hang on a second..’
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corrcdedcoffin · 13 hours ago
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Put Your Head on My Shoulder - JJ Maybank
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frenemies(?) to friends jj maybank x reader
request: no
summary: you and jj are banned from being alone together after you trying to injure him. but one day, he shows up on your front step and breaks down.
warnings: 18+, small acts of violence? (reader throws things) descriptions of a panic attack (nothing crazy tho), hurt/comfort fic, happy ending, fluff, enemies to friends trope
word count: 1.8k
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You didn't necessarily hate JJ, but for the longest time you didn't exactly like him. He was loud, crude, smoked too much weed and drank too many beers, and he never took anything seriously. Ever.
It wasn't something you'd expressed to everyone, but they could tell that you weren't exactly his number one fan. That being said, you did have some fun times with him. When he wasn't trying too hard, you thought he was quite funny, maybe even a little charming, though you'd never admit it.
Most of the time he made you roll your eyes in annoyance, or occasionally you'd tell him to fuck off and shut up. JJ always took it as an invitation to fuck around even more, particularly to get a rise out of you. He reminded you of an annoying kid in your second grade class, always getting sent to the office or the hall for being a disturbance. Chasing everyone around during recess and thinking they enjoyed it (when they clearly didn't). 
It was agreed upon the group that the two of you were not to be left alone after you threw rocks at him in retaliation to him pestering you all day once. You were thankful for that, truly. 
You'd all shown up at John B's with no plan, as you usually do, but were quickly forced to find something else to do. John B and Sarah said they had a date day planned and couldn't hang out, and it wasn't long after they left that Kiara had been called to help at The Wreck, leaving with an eye roll and a warning to play nice, or else. Pope never even showed up, so it was obvious he got stuck working. That left you and JJ. 
It wasn't your ideal situation, but it wasn't like he was some monster. He couldn't be that bad one on one, right? 
Wrong. 
You went for ice cream, and he made a bigger mess than the literal children there. His hands were a sticky mess, the table, napkins everywhere, and he did not. stop. talking. 
After ice cream, he begged you to stop at the corner store for snacks. You went in and selected your few, and couldn't help the scoff you let out after seeing JJ ogle the cashier. You weren't jealous, absolutely not, but you did briefly wonder what it'd be like to be desired by JJ Maybank. It was cut short when the sound of a crash made you jump. 
JJ was on the floor, a display rack of candy and chips knocked down and spread out next to him. 
"Fucking idiot" you muttered as you began to clean it up, JJ sheepishly helping.
Then, you'd gone back to John B's house (JJ's request), and lounged under the big tree for the rest of the day. It was nice, until JJ started talking and didn't stop (again), then throwing candies at you when you didn't answer, and then twigs when you still didn't answer. 
John B, Sarah and Kiara all showed up to you chasing JJ with a handful of rocks, throwing them at him as hard as you could. The rule was put in place right then and there, and for months, it helped. You were thankful to not have to spend a minute alone with him ever again. 
Except for right now. JJ Maybank was on your front steps in the early hours of the night.
"What?" was all you asked as you opened the door for him, staring expectantly. What the hell could he possibly want?
"Have you heard from John B?"
"No, why?"
"What about Pope? Or Kie o-or even Sarah?"
There was something off about him. He was dishevelled: the neck of his shirt was stretched out, there was a few rips in it, his hair was messier than usual - not in the casual 'i just woke up' way he always has, and he had a frantic look in his eye. Something you couldn't really decipher.
"No, I think they're working. And I don't know about Sarah and John B, probably on a date" you shrugged. "Are you good?"
You knew he wouldn't answer truthfully, but you weren't gonna be a dick and ignore his obvious distress.
JJ laughed maniacally. "Of course! I'm great! On top of the fucking world, thanks for asking! Would be super stellar if my fucking friends would answer their phones."
You pursed your lips as you silently observed him, choosing not to take offence at not being considered a friend of his. You weren't entirely sure you'd call him a friend either. His lower lip had a cut that was fresh, pried open once more in his outburst; bright red and pink all around. His left cheek was also a bit red, starting to look a little purple.
"You sure?"
If looks could kill, he'd have chopped you in half just then. "Yes, I'm sure! I just need— I need-" he stopped, hand gripping his chest and rubbing as if he couldn't catch his breath. He crouched down, taking sharp shallow inhales.
Your eyes went wide before you snapped into action.
Helping him lean back against the porch wall, you crouched in front of him and placed a hand over the one on his chest, the other on his shoulder. "Okay, it's alright" you spoke calmly. He'd never heard you sound so gentle.
"I know it hurts, but I need you to focus on my voice."
"I can't" he choked out, eyes shut tight, hand subconsciously gripping onto yours in attempt to ground himself.
"Yes you can. I need you to take a deep breath, and don't let it out until I tell you to, okay?"
He gripped your hand even harder, looking up at you, silently pleading for help. It made your heart twist. You may not have been the best of friends, but there was something about seeing him like this that made you.. hurt. You hurt for him, and with him.
"In," you continued, taking a breath with him. "Now let it out."
His breath was shaky, but his eyes didn't leave yours. Not even after the fourth breath when you reached down for his other hand and started lightly squeezing in rhythm with your breathing, thumb rubbing gently across the back of his hand.
JJ was trying as hard as he could to ignore the feeling of his chest caving in, and focus on you instead. The way you held onto him tight, how you looked so concerned. Were you worried about him?
He found it easy to focus on you. 
You watched as he went from an anxious ball of fear to being able to control his breathing again, muttering soft words of encouragement as he slowly regained his composure. You took the breaths with him, acting as a guide and not letting him stray from the instructions. You weren't sure how long it took, but the sky was nearly fully dark and it seemed awfully quiet out.
JJ pulled his hand away from his chest, and you began to remove your hands from his grip. "Don't, please. Not yet" he swallowed harshly.
You nodded silently, shuffling over to sit next to him instead, back resting against the porch wall, shoulders touching. He kept your hand in a firm grip, squeezing every so often with a deep breath.
"What was that?"
"Panic attack," you stated, nodding your head slightly.
"Huh. How did you know what to do?"
You stared blankly for a moment before responding. "I used to get them a while back, when my mom was in the hospital. My dad said she used to get them too, and that's what he'd do to calm her down. And for me."
JJ nodded, giving your hand a light squeeze.
It was strange to be here with him. You knew you were his last option; it didn't bother you, but to have him so close and in a vulnerable state like so, it felt like almost like a privilege to be by his side.
You always thought of him as arrogant and crass, when really he's just as fragile as you, or anyone else. It wasn't a secret that his home life was troubled, but before this you'd always thought he was invincible in a way. That nothing affected him.
It was silent for a long time as the two of you sat there, holding hands. JJ was glad you didn't pester him about it, wondering why he freaked out or offering solutions and unsolicited advice. You let him play with your fingers, examining your nail polish and your rings, then your bracelets.
"Thank you" he spoke quietly, finally building up the courage to look at you.
You turned to him, expression almost unreadable and gave him a nod. "S'what friends are for, right?" you smiled lightly.
Huh, friends, he thought. He didn't not like the sound of it.
Things were different after that.
What used to be arguments between you two turned into playful banter. You started spending more time together in small groups, then eventually one on one. Turns out you had more in common than either one of you ever thought.
The others noticed your blossoming friendship. It was slow, calm, and it seemed to patch a hole in your hearts that neither of you knew was there.
For a while you tiptoed around each other, going through a phase of politeness before being comfortable treating each other like the rest of the group. You learned more about him bit by bit. Whenever he had that feeling in his chest, he'd come straight to you, no matter where you were. He found comfort in you. 
It was easy for him to talk to you, surprisingly. He found himself telling you things he'd never said aloud, not even to John B.
He liked to study you, too. 
You were rowdy and wild around your friends, and very quiet around people you didn't know or like. You were a good listener, and never ever offered unwarranted advice; always making sure people's feelings were validated and understood. 
You snort when you laugh, and you always cough when you smoke, no matter what. You became the champ at shot-gunning beers, and he thought it was funny when you made yourself a crown out of beer cans. 
When you were nervous or anxious, you pressed your thumbs really hard. 
JJ felt a sense of responsibility to help you the way you help him, and you appreciated it. The way he'd place himself in front of you slightly around people who made you uncomfortable, and how he'd gently rub his knuckles on the back of your arm to let you know he was there with you, ready to bail whenever you said the words.
Life wasn't perfect on the cut, but as you got off the H.M.S Pogue at the chateau after a long day of swimming and smoking, taking JJs extended hand from the dock: the smile on his face and the twinkle in his eye told you that none of it mattered as long as your friends were by your side.
And you were glad he was one of them.
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don't be shy, reblog!
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kings-highway · 2 days ago
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Impulsively wrote this middle school friendship AU intro for Ushiten. It would follow a week of them working on a school project together and probably be mostly canon compliant with the change of them meeting in middle school. Theyd play volleyball eventually and maybe Id extend it long enough to see the high school days its unclear. It would include both artist Ushijima and mega anime nerd Tendou and also tw for suicidal thoughts and feelings but no attempts just two deeply, deeply depressed 13 year olds finally meeting someone who gets them. Also Ushijima would have a stammer and an amount of autism that might be lethal before he had any decent self regulation. It would be the return of Adopted Tendou and probably a few other things. Anyway why am I telling you this? Because I have a habit of impulse writing the first 1000 words of something and then forgetting about it so instead I've given it to you. So like. Maybe all this will be nothing idk.
---
It was 9:08 on a Thursday morning when Tendou Satori decided to kill himself.
And then at 11:13 that very same Thursday morning, he’s forced to delay his decision due to a school assigned group project.
Now, normally Tendou would not be so altruistic as to care about whether or not he pulled his weight in a group project or left people hanging. No, the reason why this is an imposition at all is because of how he ends up assigned to a group project. He’s not paired up with the girl he sits beside as she rolls her eyes, they don’t draw straws or count numbers. No, they’re told that everyone can pick a partner to work with for this particular assignment, and then they have to make and colour project board on - you guessed it - a type of animal to then present to the class on.
Tendou, at first, is actually thrilled with this. He simply won’t partner up, and then he’ll be dead, and it will be okay. But when the class is wrapping up and everyone is getting ready for lunch, the teacher is suddenly whistling for him and waving him over like a scheming villain.
He’s not even sure he’s the one she wants at first. He frowns, glancing around and watching the other kids file out of the class, and then looking back to her. She waves him over again.
Her name is Kobayashi, and she’s… fine. Middle school biology is generally just fine.
He stands in front of her, wondering if he’s done something wrong.
“Hey, Satori,” she says, like she’s about to ask for all his gold. “I have a… huge favour to ask you. You don’t have a partner in mind for the animal project, do you?”
He shakes his head.
“Great, good, okay. So… do you think you could do me the favour of asking Wakatoshi to be your partner?”
Tendou frowns, glancing behind him to where the other kid usually sat, but he had already left the class.
“Uh… why?”
She seems to hesitate on this answer for a second, before eventually saying: “Well, it’s just that… you know he doesn’t really talk much, and has a really hard time making friends. And usually I help out by introducing him to someone, but I think he’s begun to notice that nobody ever approaches him on their own, and…”
Tendou stares at her for a moment, then glances behind him and scans over the occupied seats in the class to identify and even number of students. So an even amount of pairs.
We’re probably leftovers, he decides. There’s probably something wrong with this kid the way there’s something wrong with him, and she wanted them stuck together to avoid contaminating the other kids.
“Okay,” he says, because what does it matter to him?
“Oh, you’re the best, thank you,” Kobayashi says, clasping her hands together for a moment before adding: “Okay, I won’t take any more of your time. Go enjoy your lunch.”
Tendou nods slightly, and figures he should probably go find this kid to set up their collaboration. And it’s about then, (11:13) that he realizes if he asks to partner with someone, and then kills himself, that would be super inconsiderate and lame. So he decides he’ll wait until after they present.
But he heads down to the school cafeteria and starts scanning the available seats. It’s interesting that there’s apparently another social loser like him in his very class, and he’d never noticed. He’s fairly certain he can recognize the kid by face, but it still takes him a moment of intensely scanning before he notices him. He’s not exactly sitting alone, which is what surprises him. It looks like the kid is surrounded by friends.
Except for that, as Tendou approaches, he realizes that while he’s sandwiched in between two very loud groups of friends, he’s not actually engaging in either circle, and is instead sitting with his head down, peeling an orange so carefully he’s kept the peel all in one piece.
Tendou has to fight through crowds, then, to get to the other side and worm into the seat across from him and between those two groups. He doesn’t look up.
Tendou clears his throat.
He still doesn’t look up.
So he reached forward, knocking his knuckles against the table to get his attention. This makes him jump, and he looks up in alarm, as if shocked someone had snuck up on him despite being locked in on that orange like it owed him a life debt.
Tendou immediately regrets the rude way of getting his attention, realizing he probably seemed like an asshole, and withdrew his hand quickly to sit on it.
“Uh, hey,” he says. “Ushijima, right?”
He gets a single nod back. Well, Kobayashi had said he was quiet. Tendou wasn’t sure he’d ever heard him speak, actually.
“Well, I’m Tendou - we’re in class together-”
Ushijima is nodding, indicating he does recognize him.
“-uh, and we’ve got that stupid animal project coming up, and I don’t have a partner yet, so I was wondering if you wanted to, like, I dunno, do that together or whatever.”
Ushijima looks at him for long enough that Tendou is beginning to get concerned that he didn’t actually speak any Japanese, and then eventually the blank look turns to a frown.
What, did I offend him? Why is he looking at me like that?
“I mean, unless you already have a partner,” Tendou starts. Ushijima continues to stare at him. “Do… uh… sorry… What's happening? You can say no, dude, that’s fine, I just-”
After a second, Ushijima glances around, as if psyching himself up, before lean towards Tendou and very carefully saying:
“Okay.”
Tendou leans towards him at the same time. “Okay as in… partners?”
Ushijima nods, and then looks back down to his orange. Tendou is fairly certain that that’s the end of the conversation and this project is going to be the most boring partnership on the planet when Ushijima splits the orange in half, and offers half over to him.
“What? Why?” Tendou says, not quite able to stop his tone from coming out distrustfully.
Ushijima doesn’t seem to notice, and instead answers the question:
“You do not have lunch with you.”
It’s not a question of ‘are you hungry’ or ‘did you eat’ or ‘would you like half of this orange I’m holding,’ but rather Ushijima has now decided that since Tendou does not have any, he was going to put food in front of him.
Tendou feels a very heavy, hard beat in his heart, and reaches forward to take the orange.
“Oh. Thanks.”
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broad-shouldrs · 1 day ago
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Hold On To Me || Chapter 8
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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
word count: 5,043
summary: you weren’t supposed to be here-stuck at a summer camp your dad signed you up for. but joel’s here too: your neighbor, your boss, a single dad, frustratingly competent and infuriatingly attractive.
you shouldn’t want him. he definitely shouldn’t want you.
warnings: dbf! Joel (but he didn’t know you as a kid). age gap. au!no outbreak. pining. slow burn. phone sex. f!masturbation. m!masturbation. oral sex f!receiving. angst.
a/n: tags updated because there's finally some smut.
I have written and unwritten this chapter so many times...
also, the way Joel goes from using darlin' to baby and then to kid devastates me
find me on a03
As much back and forth as Joel had put you through recently, there was no real scenario in which you would have declined his call. Especially not tonight, when it seemed like he was so painstakingly close to kissing you again. “You answered…”, he says quietly, almost surprised that you’d give him a chance. There’s a pregnant pause and it’s almost as if you can hear his brain going a mile a minute, trying to figure out how to navigate the messy situation in front of you.
You don’t say anything, you just wait, anxiously picking at your cuticles. You think maybe the lines gone dead but then you hear his heavy sigh. For a second, you think he’s going to hang up.
“I been tryin’ to be good,” he finally admits, the tenor of his voice hesitant. “Tryin’ to do the right thing n’ stay away. But you—you’re…” He pauses again, thankfully this one much shorter than the previous.
“I could barely keep it together when I kissed you that first time. And then today… fuck .” You can imagine him nervously pacing back and forth in his living room,  passing his hand through his hair. “If your daddy knew the things I think about. The things I dream about.” 
“Tell me.” It’s more of a whisper than anything — a hushed plea. He doesn’t say anything right away and you’re sure he’s just going to apologize and you'll have to pretend once again like this conversation never happened. But you don’t want that — you want him. Your fingers tremble where they’re curled around your phone. “Joel…”, you breathe, giving him one more chance.
You hear him exhale like he’s been holding his breath. “God, you don’t know what that does to me when you say my name like that, darlin’.”
You hadn’t even registered the heat that had rushed between your legs, but hearing him say that — hearing him call you darlin’ with a completely new context — has made you all too aware.
“I meant what I said… I think about you all the time, darlin’.” His voice drops, thick and wrecked, “How you’d sound. How’d you’d feel. How good you’d look comin’ apart for me.”
You let out a small gasp and had anyone asked, you’d swear that your heart stopped for a full minute. 
“I think about that time with the rock climbin’ harness. What it’d be like with nobody there. Just me behind you. Slidin’ my hands under your shirt, just feelin’ your skin.”
You suck in a breath and press your thighs together to quiet the ache building between them. It’s not just the words — it’s his voice, like he’s imagining it as he speaks. 
“I think about the way you’d arch back into me, when I put my hands on you. Mouth on your neck, whisperin’ things I’d never usually say out loud.”
Your fingers began to trace the inside of your thigh, your thumb just skirting over the hem of your sleep shorts. 
His voice drops lower, rougher. “N’ you’d grind your ass into me when I got my hand on your chest. Thumbin’ your nipples.”
In all your texts and phone calls, you had never actually imagined getting to this point. You definitely had not expected Joel to be so unabashed with how much he actually wanted you let alone have a mouth on him. Now you don’t ever want him to shut up. “Joel…” you whimper, keening up as you slide your hand beneath the waistband of your shorts, fingertips skimming hot skin. “Don’t stop.”
He pauses — just a second — like he knows. Like you’re on Facetime. He fucking feels it. “What are you doin’ right now?”
Any embarrassment you thought you’d feel is gone, but your voice is so thin and shaky when you reply. “Touching myself.” Your fingers move lower, grazing over the damp material covering your pussy. You gasp softly, not even trying to hide it.
“Fuck.” A rough sound crackles through the line, something between a groan and a grunt. “You gonna be a good girl and let me hear you?” 
Your eyes flutter shut as you brush over your clit, making your hips rise from the mattress and your words catch in your throat. “I—“
“It’s a yes or no, darlin’.”
“Yes,” you say breathlessly, repeating the same movement. 
You hear the soft clink of Joel’s belt followed by the tentative pull of a zipper. Joel lets out a relieved groan and the sound sends a pulse straight through you.  You squeeze your eyes together, trying to imagine what his cock looks like in his hand — trying to imagine what he looked like as he stroked himself. “Wish it was you. Your fingers… ‘stead of mine.”
You hear Joel groan in agreement. “Still dressed?”
You nod.
“Can’t hear you, darlin’.”
“Yes” you breathe out, “just sleep shorts and a shirt.”
You can picture the smirk on his face as he speaks, “Take ‘em off. Your shorts.”
You rush to follow his request, your breath quickening as you put the phone on speaker and wrestle your shorts down past your thighs and kick them off your ankles. “You do that for me, darlin’?” 
You let out the smallest noise and let your legs fall wide. “Mm-hmm”
“Good girl.” 
Something in you stirs and you move back to touching yourself over your underwear. 
“If it were me,” he continues, “I’d push your pretty little panties out of the way. Bet you’d be soaked just from pressin’ back on me. I’d touch her so nice. Get my fingers all nice n’ wet.” 
You let out a soft moan and mimic his words, pushing the damp fabric of your panties to the side and pressing your middle finger to your core, lightly circling your clit. 
“Oh, fuck.” Joel grunts and you hear him spit into his hand. “Think I could just slip two fingers right inside you? Start openin’ you up for me?”
Your pussy desperately clenches around nothing. “Please…Please Joel”
“Go ahead n’ do it for me. Two fingers, nice n’ slow.”
You do as he asks, slicking your ring and middle fingers through the folds of your pussy before pressing them deep into you. You gasp, clamoring for air, gripping the bed sheets with your free hand. 
“Slow” he repeats, his voice a low, commanding rumble. "I wanna hear every fucking second of it.”
You start to move. Slowly, just as instructed. You moan soft, your hips beginning to move in sync with your hand. You can hear Joel on the other end of the line breath matching your own — heavy and ragged. “Jesus,” He groans and the sound shoots straight through you. 
Your body responds to his voice, your inner muscles clenching around your fingers, wishing it were him instead. His hands are much larger than yours and you can almost feel it — the stretch, the heat, the sheer size of him. “Keep going. Little faster now”
You whimper, fingers still moving, the rhythm more urgent. Your breath stutters, hips arching up into your own touch. “Joel…”
“Yeah, baby. Just like that. Keep sayin’ my name.” You can hear the slick sound of his fist stroking his cock. “Wish I could see you right now.  Fuckin’ hand between your thighs n’ pretty mouth all open and sweet for me.” Joel groans. “Wish I was the one makin’ you feel that good.”
You’re spiraling, every nerve lit up, every part of you aching for more. And Joel’s right there with you — his voice, a tether, a promise, a need so sharp it almost hurts. “You are.” You don’t bother holding back as your fingers move faster — the moan that slips from your lips is needy, trembling, and loud enough that you know he hears it. That he wants to hear it.
Joel groans in response, like the sound of your pleasure hits him as hard as a fist to the gut. “That’s it. That’s it, baby,” he pants. 
You’re close. Your legs have started to shake and you can feel your orgasm building — damn near impossible to hold back. 
“You let me fuck you, baby?” he murmurs, his voice more desperate. “Huh? You gonna let me push your legs apart n’ fuck your perfect little pussy?”
“Yes,” you gasp, fingers working faster, pressing the heel of your palm into your clit, your hips rolling against your hand. “Please, Joel—”
“Fuck—make you feel so good.” he growls. “Wish my cock was stretchin’ you open, keepin’ you right there on the edge.”
You whimper, nails digging into your thigh.
Joel hears it in your breath, the stuttering rhythm of your moans. “C’mon baby. Need to hear it. Need to hear you come.”
Your body tenses and you let go, his name falling from your lips as  pleasure crashes over you in waves. Your fingers curl inside you as you ride it out, pulsing around nothing but the fantasy of him.
On the other end, Joel groans, deep and broken, and you know he’s right there too. “Oh fuck — just like that. Just like that, baby. So fuckin’ — oh fuck. Shit” He comes with a muffled groan, his breath punches out of him like he’s been holding back for too long.
You remove your fingers from inside yourself and there’s a long silence, just the sound of both your breathing returning to normal. “Y’alright?”
“Mmm.” You smile, and something in your chest settles.
"Good. Call you tomorrow?"
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You’ve lost count of how many times it’s happened. Not every night, but enough. Sometimes, the calls are harmless. You can tell by his voice that he’s tired, and he tells you about his day, what Sarah said at dinner, or how something reminded him of camp. He says your name a little too softly, lingers a little too long in the silences. But that’s all. You hang up warm, restless, aching for something you can’t name.
But other nights, it starts the same way. A quiet, ”Thinkin’ ‘bout you, darlin’” and the unspoken need curling around the words. Those nights he says your name like it’s a secret and then it quickly spirals until it’s nothing but need. You touch yourself because he asks. He listens because he needs to. Sometimes, he talks you through it in vivid detail — every filthy word soaked in the weight of what he can’t do. What he would do.
Sometimes he’s quiet when it’s over. You think he might be trying to say something else but it never comes, just a quiet, “night, darlin’.” leaving you panting in the dark, still thinking of him. Other times, he stays. He keeps talking until your heart stops racing. 
Either way you don’t care because even if it’s messy — even if neither of you says the words — you know what it means. You want each other and you’re both terrible at pretending you don’t.
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It’s been two weeks since you spent any significant time with Joel. You’ve been getting by on interactions spanning less than five minutes and even then they were filled with knowing glances and subtle movements that made it hard to think. Makes it hard to forget the teasing, the whispered confessions in the dark, and the way Joel’s voice goes soft when he says your name.
You and your Dad have plans that afternoon to barbeque at Joel’s — it’s been planned for weeks. You don’t know why or what you expected but you’re ready hours before the game, restlessly bouncing your leg until you’re driving your Dad nuts with it. “Go on over already, you’re stressin’ me out.” 
When Joel answers his door, he looks shocked. He didn’t expect you. Just you — alone and two hours early. Every late night call, every breath, every moan, every fucking image he’s had of you in his head, slams into him all once. Even worse, you look good. 
“Hey,” you say. “Brought peach cobbler.”
Joel doesn’t even look at the Tupperware. He stares at you. You raise an eyebrow. “You gonna let me in?”
Joel steps aside, wordless. He lets you in, eyes laser focused on you as you slip off your shoes at the door. He doesn’t even make it five minutes. You say something, laugh too easily, and the sound breaks something in him.
He steps in close. Grabs your wrist, gentle but firm. Your eyes widen. You know that look. You’ve seen it before. You saw it at camp right before he kissed you. He says your name like it’s a confession. “Why’re you here?”
“I wanted to see you,” you admit, looking up at him from under your eyelashes. “Joel—“ You start to say something else, but he cuts you off. His mouth crashes into yours before you can finish. It’s not soft. It’s not careful. He kisses you like he’s starving. It’s everything he’s been holding back. Weeks of restraint, of wanting, of needing you in ways that feel all wrong and all right at once.
His hands are on your waist and it’s already too late. No pretending this is nothing. Something’s snapped and neither of you is going to be able to put it back. You don’t breathe. Not when he deepens the kiss, his mouth brushing against yours, his hands trailing up your back, the other cupping your jaw.  You thread your fingers into his hair and kiss him back, desperate and aching, your whole body thrumming with need.
“Joel,” you whisper, when his lips move to your jaw and down the slope of your neck, open-mouthed and hungry. “Sarah?”
“Out.” he mutters into your skin, voice rough, hands sliding under your shirt, calloused fingers spreading over your ribs. “We have time. Just need to —”
He lifts you onto the counter like it’s nothing, standing between your knees, pressing in close so you can feel every inch of him. You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him in tight, gasping at the friction. “You’re like a fuckin’ dream,” he says, voice already wrecked. His head rests against yours as his hand skims up from your ankle to thigh. “Thought about this. So many times.”
“Show me”, you whisper.
Joel surges forward, grabbing your face with both hands like he can’t stand another second of distance. The kiss is messy, breathless, teeth knocking into teeth until you open for him with a soft, desperate sound, and he groans like he’s finally getting air after being underwater. His hands are everywhere. Tangling in your hair. Shrugging off the jersey. Sliding under your crop top. Tugging at it with clumsy urgency until it’s over your head and tossed aside.”Fuckin’ hell. So goddamn perfect.”
 Your bra is off a second later, and his mouth is on you — hot and wet and relentless. He sucks hard at your breast, tongue flicking over your nipple, lips sealing around it like he wants to leave a mark. Like he wants you to feel him there for days. Your fingers tangle in his hair, back arching into him with a sharp cry of his name, and he hums around you, pleased. You claw at his shirt, dragging it up his torso with shaking hands. He lifts his arms, lets you pull it off, then leans back just long enough to let you look — broad chest rising with rough, shallow breaths, dark hair scattered across tanned skin, a trail leading down to where his jeans are already unbuttoned.
Your gaze drops, and your stomach clenches. He’s hard. So hard. Pressed against the front of his briefs and straining for you. You make a sound — something low and broken — and hook your fingers in his waistband, but he catches your wrist. “Wait,” he pants, forehead pressed against yours. One hand slides between your thighs, pressing the heel of his palm against the heat shielded by denim. “Just—let me.”
He kisses you again, slower this time, swallowing the moan coming out of your mouth. He pops the button and ekes down the zipper of your shorts before turning his hand and slipping it beneath the waistband of your panties. And then he feels you.
“Fuck,” he mutters against your mouth,. “You’re soaked.”
You gasp when he strokes through you, thick fingers sliding through slick heat with no resistance. His thumb brushes your clit — just once, just enough — and your hips jerk.
“Joel—”
“I know, baby,” he murmurs, voice rough, fingers circling with slow precision. “I know. You like this, huh?”
You nod, too breathless for words. His other hand grabs your hip, holding you steady as he keeps going, two fingers teasing at your entrance, barely pushing in.“Want you to come on my fingers first,” he says, like it’s a goddamn promise. “Okay? Then whatever you want.”
Your head tips back with a shaky breath as his fingers slide deeper, spreading you open. He watches your face as he sinks his middle and ring finger in, slow and deliberate, like he wants to memorize the way your lashes flutter and the soft gasp that slips from your lips. “Jesus,” he mutters, “You feel so fuckin’ good, baby. So fuckin’ soft.”
Your hands find his shoulders, fingers digging in as you try to stay grounded. His other hand is firm on your hip, anchoring you while he fucks you with just his fingers — slow at first, a careful rhythm that curls into you and makes your thighs shake. His thumb moves in circles over your clit, slick and sure. You whimper as he presses in deeper and finds the spot that makes your whole body tighten.
“That’s it,” he breathes. “You’re doin’ so good, baby. So fuckin’ good for me.”
You nod again, helpless, hips rolling to meet each thrust. He can tell by the way you’re clenching around him, that you’re close. He leans in, mouth brushing against the shell of your ear and whispers. “C’mon, baby. Let me see you come.”
Your orgasm hits hard, consuming you and jolting you forward until you’ve leaned against Joel’s sturdy frame. Your hand digs into his shoulder as you cry out his name between pants.
Joel keeps going, slow and steady through it, watching the way your body clenches around his fingers like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Goddamn,” he whispers, voice tight.  When your breathing finally slows and your limbs go limp, he gently slips his fingers out and brings them to his mouth. You watch, wide-eyed, still dazed and trembling. He drags his tongue over his ring finger and  hums deep in his throat like you taste even better than he imagined. It’s so fucking filthy and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. Your cheeks burn, thighs still twitching from aftershocks.
Joel’s eyes meet yours, and he lets out the cutest little breathy laugh. “Shit, darlin’. Couldn’t help myself.”
You make a strangled sound and cover your face with your hands, but he pulls them away gently and kisses your knuckles. “You okay?” he murmurs, a thumb brushing your cheek. You nod. 
“More than okay.” You try to catch your breath, blinking at him through the haze of your orgasm. Your thighs are still parted around his hips, and he’s still fully dressed—his jeans undone, shirt rumpled, chest rising and falling like he’s the one who just came. His gaze skims over your face, your throat, the flushed skin between your breasts, and then lower. 
“You’re wreckin’ me.” 
You grab Joel by his shirt until he leans in and kisses you like he’s starved. Every drag of his mouth, every shift of his hips, is thick with hunger. You grab at the waistband of his jeans and this time he lets you. You tug the zipper down and shove his jeans past his thighs with one hand, quick and clumsy, dragging his boxers along until his cock presses hot and heavy against your thigh. You gasp into his mouth, your jaw left hanging open as you rest your forehead against his. “Need to feel you.” Joel’s hips twitch and he fumbles for his wallet on the counter behind you and pulls out a small gold packet, holding it like a trophy he’s just won. He takes a half step back and lets you take a moment to look at him, hand wrapped loosely around the base of his cock, the head flushed dark and wet where he’s already leaking. He’s thick, bigger than you imagined. Your breath stutters just watching him stroke himself once, like he’s trying to calm himself down.  “Jesus,” you whisper, voice caught in your throat.
Joel’s eyes flick up, and the look he gives you makes your stomach twist.
“Joel—please,” you whisper, chest heaving.
Joel tears the foil open with his teeth and rolls the condom on with shaking hands. “M’right here.” He strokes himself again, just once, and then you feel the blunt head of him just barely nudge against your entrance. 
Then — a knock at the door.
Both of you freeze. Your heart plummets . Joel stills completely, breath caught in his chest. His hand balls into a fist as he glares at the door.
“Maybe they’ll go away” you say, hopeful, your hand squeezing Joel’s bicep.
Another knock. Louder this time.
Joel’s jaw ticks. He doesn’t move at first. He’s still inside his own storm, chest rising like he’s counting backward from ten. Your body is buzzing, thighs still trembling, and Joel’s still hard, still thick against you. You can feel it. So can he. Then, reluctantly — agonizingly — he pulls back, pressing a rough kiss to your forehead, one hand cupping your face. “I swear to God,” he mutters under his breath, “if it’s another fuckin’ Jehovah’s Witness…”
Joel grabs your clothes from the floor and gives you a minute to button your shorts and re-fasten your bra as he tugs his jeans up just enough to pass for decent. “Gimme a minute”, he yells out. You try not to laugh as you pull your shirt back over your head — all nerves and frustration. You jump down from your place on the counter, and move towards the couch, flushed and dazed, trying to breathe like a normal person as Joel throws his shirt back on and opens the door.
“Hey,” your dad says, like it’s nothing. “Sorry, I was bangin’. I tried your phone but you weren’t answerin’. Did you need the cooler for tonight?”
Joel stares at him, silent for a beat too long. Behind him, you choke back a groan and sink into the couch cushions. “That’d be good,” Joel says finally, voice gruff and flat “Bit busy right now.” There’s a pause and Joel continues, lying through his teeth. “On the phone with the…cable company.”
Your dad squints his eyes, and then leans to the left slightly, looking to glance past Joel, then seeming to think better of it. “Sorry. My kid here?”
Your heart’s in your throat. Joel shifts just slightly, his arm leaning against the door frame, like he’s trying to make himself bigger and block your dad’s view.  “Just me. Her n’ Sarah stepped out for a sec. Went to the store.” He says it smooth, casual — but his voice is a little hoarse.
Your dad lingers for a moment, shifting on his feet and then nods—like he’s letting whatever thought he had go. “Alright. See you in a few.”
Your dad’s already halfway down the steps before Joel closes the door again. The silence that follows is louder than anything. Joel doesn’t move. Just stands there with his hand on the doorknob, staring at the ceiling like it personally betrayed him.
Finally, Joel turns to you, brows drawn, mouth in a hard line. “Guess we don’t have as much time as we thought.” He moves to sit next to you on the couch, knees knocking together and hands twitching where they lay in his lap. “Maybe Tuesday when Sarah’s at soccer.”
You wince, eyes fixated on the frayed edge of one of the cushions. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”
Joel’s face changes — just slightly. His jaw tightens. “Tomorrow?”
“Early.”
You watch the breath leave his body, like the wind was knocked right out of him. He scrubs a hand down his face, then over the back of his neck letting out a defeated sigh. After a beat of silence, you will yourself to look up at him and are faced with the most devastating, pleading eyes. Joel looks like he wants to say something else, but all he can muster up is, “Okay.” 
You don’t know what to do with yourself after that, so you slowly get up from the couch and swallow hard. “M’gonna wait for Sarah upstairs. You should probably get the grill goin’ before my dad gets back.”
You don’t see his head fall back or his palms push into eyelids as he wills away the ache building in his chest.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The smell of smoke hits you before you even step outside.
Joel’s at the grill, beer in hand, tongs in the other, working like it’s just another Saturday. Like he didn’t almost fuck you in the kitchen half an hour ago. Like his mouth hadn’t been on your skin, his hands between your legs, his cock thick and heavy against you.
You stand next to the cooler your dad dug out earlier, twisting the cap off a bottle of water just to have something to do with your hands.
Sarah’s laughing at something your dad says, feet kicked up on one of the patio chairs. She’s wearing sunglasses and sipping soda from a can, talking about some friend of hers who just got a tattoo on a dare.
The moment feels suspiciously normal. But your body’s still thrumming, aching in the worst way. You swear you can still feel Joel’s breath on your neck, the weight of him pressing into your hips. You take a steady breath and look over at him. Joel’s already looking at you, and there’s a flicker of something barely restrained, before he drops his eyes to the grill like nothing happened. Your throat tightens. 
Joel keeps his distance. His voice is steady as he talks to your dad about last night’s Rangers game . His hands are steady as he mans the grill. But, you can feel it, you can see it barely there — the tension of his shoulders and the pulse that beats in his jaw.
You take a seat next to Sarah at the patio table and Joel sets a plate in front of you, his fingers brushing yours just enough to make you jolt. “Thanks,” you murmur, not quite looking at him.
Joel sits across from you. You feel the heat of his gaze even when you’re not looking at him and you try to focus on the food in front of you. You feel something brush against your leg under the table and your heartbeat is thrumming in your ears. You hesitate, debating on pulling back but decide against it. Joel’s thigh shifts, just barely and you feel the press of his knee against yours. Solid. Warm. Grounding.
You nearly stop breathing.
The conversation hums around you but Joel is just watching you, quiet and unreadable. Your dad stands up, his hand clapping Joel on the shoulder, making him jump. “Gettin’ another. You want one?” Joel shakes his head and Sarah stands to follow him to get dessert from the kitchen.
Joel’s elbow rests on the arm of his chair and he leans in just enough to whisper to you, “Can I see you tonight?”
Your pulse jumps. You look at him. He’s not smiling. Not teasing. There’s something heavy and unguarded in his eyes that catches you off guard. It’s like he’s carrying a weight he’s been trying to hide, but now it’s pressed up close, and you can’t look away.
You swallow hard and shake your head. 
Joel  leans back in his chair, jaw clenched, and nods. His voice is somehow quieter this time. “No, you’re right. You deserve more than that.”
You blink. The weight of his words settles deep inside you, aching in a way you hadn’t expected. Before you can say anything, Sarah calls your name from the kitchen, breaking the spell. Joel shifts back in his chair, eyes falling to his plate like none of this ever happened.
After dessert, the patio’s gone quiet, the summer air thick with smoke and something heavier. Joel sat at the table, nursing the last of his beer, his chair turned halfway toward the yard. You’ve left Sarah and your dad inside packaging leftovers when you slip outside. The door clicks shut behind you, and Joel doesn’t look up. He just lets out a slow exhale, like he knew it was you by the sound alone.
“I didn’t wanna leave without saying goodbye,” you say softly.
Joel nods, eyes on the treeline. “When’s your flight?”
“Before sunrise.”
He finally looks at you, not just a glance. He looks — heavy with everything you’ve both felt but never said aloud. One that holds your whole summer — the heat of long, restless nights, the ache of words left unsaid, the barely-missed chances. 
You step closer — not too close as your dad’s still in the house and the screen door doesn’t always latch right, but enough that you can see the tight line of Joel’s jaw and the way his fingers tap restlessly against the side of his beer bottle.
There’s a silence that stretches between you that neither of you wants to break because you know what comes next.
You shift your weight. “I don’t know when I’ll be back...”
He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t know how to when inside, he’s conflicted over feeling selfish and hollow all at once. He wants to beg you to stay, but just as much, he wants to tell you to go. Not only so you can  finish school and move on, but so he can finally let himself fall apart. “Ready to go?”, you hear your dad call out, breaking the unbearable silence. “Goodnight Joel”, you finally breathe out. 
“Night, kid.”
28 notes · View notes
ferrarininja · 16 days ago
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Accidentally made these stickers line up perfectly.. he’s being fed 🧃🐛
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odysseys-blood · 1 year ago
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(this is old and in the other post) also while im on a beedee fix rn im finally drawing his twin as an adult so i have a better idea of how they look side by side! theyre still v close and antoine even followed amari job wise until he got fed up w/ the place. thinking that while amari bulked up as she got older he's got a frankly unassuming build. antoine's still a big guy (as all of their siblings are save maybe their younger sister) just not as big as amari
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hoshigray · 11 months ago
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⊹˚୨ Too Sweet ✮NOT✮ to Spoil! ୧˚⊹ | jjk men
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₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ choso, kento, satoru, suguru, sukuna & toji × how their sweet sub is treated.
contents: JJK men x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size differences - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! + m! receiving) - Daddy/sir kink - sloppy kissing/making out - breast fondling + nipple stimulation - thigh riding - squirting - dry-humping/grinding - praising - sex toys - voyeurism (consensual) - face + throat-fucking - [un]protected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - more stuff specified in their respective perspectives - mention of drool/spit and tears.
word count: 6k (yikes, overkill, lol)
a. note: requested by an anon; yahooo, another one of these!!
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₊˚⊹ ᰔ Kamo Chōsō ⋮ kissing/making out - breast fondling + nipple stimulation + sucking - dry-humping - masturbation (m! receiving) - cowgirl position - pet names (angel, baby, sweetie).
Choso loves to have you close to him, your soft lips meshed with his, his hands roaming inside your shirt to feel your skin while yours grip his tee. 
“Haahh, Choso…please.”
“I know, sweetie,” he hushes you with his lips. “I’m right here…Hmm.” 
You and your boyfriend were on his bed, two figures in a close space. Choso likes having you at his place, taking this time to enjoy you all to himself. Especially after you two spent time together today, going out on a little outing and enjoying each other to start their weekend. Now, after the sunset on your way home, the two of you use the night to spark more intimate moments. 
Choso gropes your chest after sneaking his hands under your bra. The softness of your mounds has him sigh, his slender fingers sinking into the plumpness. The kiss breaks for him to observe as you lift your shirt, the sight having him gulp thickly from what he’s doing to you as you evoke cute noises by the tweezes of your nipples.
“Choso,” you whine, your hands finding his shoulders to grab onto. “Please, keep touching me…”
The brown-headed one nods and steadily descends his face, kissing gently on your exposed chest. You mewl at the contact of his lips on your skin, latching onto them for a second longer for you to shake. Your breath hitches at the feel of his mouth brushing your nipple, mouth agape at the feel of his tongue inching closer to your bud. Slow swishes have you ball your fists until he decides to take the tip into his mouth wholly to suck. 
You cry, “Yesss…More, touch me more.” 
Choso continues to keep sucking, pleasing you with the flick of his tongue and pushing the nip to the rough of his mouth. The other hand tends to the other breast, and he moans on your body as you sneak to touch the groin of his sweatpants.
Pretty fingers rub on him, feeling the stiffening limb sheltered within getting firmer by the second. You grab hold of it, palming his erection to hear more of his moans. “D-Don’t…!”
“I want it,” you purr as you sneak your hand into the hem of his sweats. “Pleasee, I wanna make you cum…Can I?”
How could he ever dismiss you when you’re asking so nicely? He releases your nipple and maneuvers to lay on his back. The gleeful smile makes him chuckle, watching you remove his sweatpants to throw down to the bedroom floor, along with your frilly skirt and panties. 
Choso groans as you bring your bare cunt to his erect penis, pressing it down to his abdomen as you begin to rock your hips to and fro. He whimpers; the touch of your folds has him hanging by a thread. Chocolate orbs stuck to the display of him nestling between the lips of your lower region. Fuck, you felt too good, your slick sticking to him like goo and wetting his shaft. 
“Fuck, he sighs deeply. “You feel…so good, baby.”
The comment makes you titter, placing your hands on his chest to steady yourself as your hips move a little faster. He holds you by the waist, sinking to the sensation of you pleasing him with just your labia sailing on top of him. You reach for the tip of his cock and grind your pelvis down, the movement making Choso curl his toes at the feeling on his most sensitive part. 
His hips begin to jolt on their own, bucking to match your rhythm to a union. Complying, one of your hands comes around behind you to cup his balls, kneading the testes to evoke your partner to keen.
“Ghhhh, shit, shit,” he curses below you, his fingers clamping onto the skin of your waist as you hump faster. “God, you’re so good at this.”
“You gonna cum?” Your question with batting eyes, increasing the pace with the flex of your abs, a firmer grip on his scrotum. Choso nods hurriedly. “Cum for me, Choso; cum, cum!”
You pamper him with cheers as you go harder and briskly on top of his dick. You felt so fucking good, having shivers crawl up the poor pig-tailed man’s frame. All he can think about is how it would feel once he’s inside you, how tight and warm you’d sense at his solid length. Reminiscing about the familiar feeling of your snug walls swallowing him whole nearly has him choke on his spit.
“—Ahhck!! A-Angel, slow down a b—Mmmm!” There’s no point; you’re too into your thrusts that whatever happens after this is inexorable. Choso laments with quick arches, white substance evicting out of his urethra, falling with force and plaster onto the pale skin of his stomach. The shocks of his orgasm have his body jerking with pleasure.
You witness his crescendo, eyeing where every spurt of his semen is expelled. The raunchy image makes you lick your lips with a bite, your boyfriend catching his breath in huffs and pants.
“Hey, Choso,” he looks to you with such comely, dazed eyes. You remove yourself from him and lay on your back with legs risen, spreading your folds wet and sticky of your come.
“Cum inside me just like, yeah?”
₊˚⊹ ᰔ Nanami Kento ⋮ masturbation (m! receiving) - licking + nibbling oral (m! receiving) - ball fondling + sucking - facials - pet names (baby, honey, love, sweetpea) - cameo: Ijichi (phone call).
He groans. "Baby, not now..."
"Please, Kento, just one time..."
Nanami should've known what he was getting into when he waltzed into his shared apartment. Work is meant to be kept out of his home, his place to relax and bask in the comfort of his leisure. However, he had to hurry and take up a phone call with one of his peers about a pressing issue, only having enough time to greet you with a kiss before pulling out his phone and walking to the kitchen.
He should've foreseen you coming into the frey, making the scenario hard enough to deal with. "Kento."
"Shhhh, not right now, love." He places his hand to brush your cheek. "Gotta take this...Hey, I'm at home. Ready when you are."
That wasn't enough for you; your lips contorted to a tiny frown. Because you're walking to his proximity by the kitchen island, your hands snake around his waist, and he chews his lip as your fingers trim the edge of his belt. 
“Ken,” you whisper as you unbuckle him. “You promised.”
“Honey, please, I can’t do it—Mmmm!” You push your hands inside his pants to palm his flaccid dick—not so soft once you start touching him. 
“But you swore!” He doesn’t have time for your whining or fingers motioning around between his pants and boxer briefs. “You said I could suck you off the moment you come ho—“
“Not so loud!”
“Huh, Nanami-san?”
Shit! “Sorry, Ijichi,” the blonde man apologizes. “Give me a second.” Nanami presses the mute button on the phone and looks at you with warranted bewilderment. “You can’t be doing that while I’m on the phone!”
You hit him with a pout. “But you promised I could do it!”
“Yes, I know, but—“
“And you’re the one who texted me about having such a stressful day at work,” you cut him off, pressing your body onto his. “I asked if I could help you ease some stress, and you said yes, so…I’m just doing what I’m supposed to.”
“Baby—”
“Please?” You have him stuck to the kitchen counter, unable to leave your side as your hands find his chest. “I promise I won’t be too loud during your call.” 
A huge sigh escapes through the man’s nostrils, groaning into his hands as if it’s a big enough shield from your pouting face. However, it’s futile once he sees your pleading eyes, beckoning him to grant you permission for this one thing you wish to do for him. You looked too precious to ignore, the twinge of his heart worsening just for even trying to go against you.
He shakes his head, “…Do it quietly. Understand?” Your facial expression perks to immediate glee, your partner wishing he had his goggles to sheathe you, blinding him. He picks up the phone and unmutes, “Okay, I’m back. What about the proposition brought by Mei Mei and…”
You quietly move on your virtue as he speaks to his colleague, his body still by the counter, giving the advantage to roam your hands around him as you please. The blonde flattens his lips to suppress any suspicious noises that could be caught by Ijichi, especially when your hand returns to his solid erection after pulling his pants down. 
Short grunts evade him, making it difficult to stay composed. And you — so daring — decide to kiss the man on the lips. Oh, you were playing dirty, egging him on with a quiet moan that sounded so delightful. His erection gets firmer and firmer, practically sinking into your firm yet gentle touch. 
A soft sound leaves your lips after the kiss, and you decide to slide down and attend to his dick and to leave the sand-haired man to concentrate on his call—or at least try to. His pink glans look inviting, feeling his shaft throb under your fingertips. You start by blowing on it, sending shivers up his spine.
“Mhmm, mhmm…Yeah, I agree,” he replies to the other side of the line, his eyes wandering around the kitchen to try and distract himself away from you stroking on his cock so attentively. But then, his free hand grips onto the counter when something wet whisk around the tip of his cock. “Has…Yaga ever told you about Gojo’s standing in this?”
You flick your tongue on his cockhead, slithering up from the underside to the frenulum and sucking the rough skin with smooches. You start slow by sucking in his cockhead, hallowing your cheeks, and loosening your jaw to introduce your warm orally. 
The sounds you make to him aren’t avoidable, no matter how hard Nanami tries to focus on Ijichi’s voice; all it does is fade away and enhance your mewls as you suck him off. “Okay…Tha..That’s good. And what about the first years? The mission is sometime soon; should there be anyone—Nnnmph!”
Finally, his mocha brown eyes peer down to look at you—fuck, what a big mistake. You were too focused on him, slurping on his cock before coating him with your saliva and mixing in with the precum oozing out. Then, confidence fuels you to take more of him inch by inch, bobbing your head to form a rhythm where your lips meet the tippy top to the very hilt of his pubes. 
“N-Nanami-san?!” Ijichi cries out from the other side. “Are you okay?”
“Gi–Give me a second,” he presses the mute button again to speak with you. “Careful with that tongue, sweetpea.” You peer up to him with hooded eyes, attempting a smile while your mouth is busy with his cock. Shit. “Sorry, I’m back.”
“Is everything all right, Nanami-san?”
“Yeah, I just…stubbed my toe on a chair.” Don’t giggle while you’re sucking on him; the vibrations feel way too good on his lower half. “Anyways, please continue...Hnnnn.”
You remove his dick from your cock and suck on the tip hard, Nanami’s free hand coming to your head to inaudibly warn you. You giggle, trailing down kisses until you reach his scrotum, playing with his testes with laps on of the tongue. Nanami’s barely hanging by a thread, even after you suck on one of his balls until it gets inside your mouth. 
“—Khhh, haaah, uh-huh…Got it,” he answered aimlessly, knowing damn well he was not paying close attention to his subordinate’s words. The golden-haired man is too entranced with how you’re working on him, massaging his other ball while you kiss and suck the skin off the other. “Anything else I need to know?”
“Well, actually, there are things concerning the Kyoto School that need…” Poor Ijichi, his words drowning out from one ear and flying out to the next. You were clouding Nanami’s judgment effortlessly, returning one hand to jerk him off and your lips taking the tip for him to the back of your throat. Jesus Christ, your speed was increasing, and hold getting sturdier, his balls and shaft overwhelmed with this much enjoyment. Fuck! I’m close; his hips twitch increasingly, and his breathing is shaky.
“Kento,” your voice captures his attention. “Cum of my face, ‘kay?” You titter before opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out, a sign that you are ready for him. Nanami licks his teeth; you were too much for him.
Your hands irregularly jerk him off, not skipping a bit as you await his release. The golden-headed man bucks into your hands with your tempo, and his white seed spills out onto your face. He painted your face, sliding into your mouth or landing on your forehead and nose. But you voice no complaints, taking it with grace. 
“….And that should be all on that matter. Sorry about having to call you after work about this,” Ijichi says while Nanami pants under his breath, his legs quivering through the aftershocks. “But I shall see you tomorrow, Nanami-san.”
“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning to his touch as he caresses your cheek. You suck on his thumb after he wipes the semen that sticks to your lips, and he chortles hoarsely.
“See you tomorrow.”
₊˚⊹ ᰔ Gojō Satoru ⋮ fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping + pinching) finger-sucking - missionary position - unprotected sex (no release inside, tho) - pet names (baby, cutie, princess) - mention of saliva/spit.
Sweet things were undoubtedly Gojo Satoru’s most favorite thing worldwide.
“Ahhhnn!! Satoruuu, moreee…!”
And you, his sweet little thing, made his teeth rot the most. 
If Gojo could get addicted to you, he most certainly would. And trust—he is already.
There are not many people in this world within Gojo’s proximity that he would consider “cute” or “gracious,” especially within his occupation as a jujutsu sorcerer, where hazardous dilemmas and death are nearly daily. But you, his partner, are the pure definition of perfection. He’s smitten, indeed, as you are the most treasured thing in his life with whom he wishes to share good moments and protect within his life.
He couldn’t resist you; if he could break the nation in half for you, he would surely try…However, there are times when he’ll try to break you instead. Why?
“Yeah, cutie, ya like it when my fingers go like this?”
Because you’re adorable—and that includes all sides of you.
Gojo removes his fingers out of your leaking cunt. For the past few minutes, he’s been playing with your folds within the confines of your home. The tall man has been away from you for a while, been itching to touch you—to feel you. That’s why he pulled you in and marched you to your bedroom, kissing you up a storm while unclothing you off your bottoms. 
Your figure quakes at the abrupt removal of his digits. “Tahhhh, no!” You whine with scrunched brows. “P-Put ‘em baack!”
“Awww, what’s this?” He tilts his head with a sly smirk; the blindfold hiding the intensity of his gaze doesn’t help. “You like my fingers that much, huh?” A rascally chuckle is caused by how rapidly you nod your head, looking at his hand to see how much of your fluids coats his fingers. “Wow, you’re over here making a mess! Hehe, must feel that good, huh, cupcake?”
“‘Toruu, pleasee…!” You cling to his jacket. “I want them back inside!”
“Ehhhh, but you told me to stop too long ago.” Gojo then takes his fingers to your clitoris. You gasp sharply at the cold, slick-sheeted digits pressing down on your bud, sensitive from the other orgasms prior. “Said that it was too much for you.”
“Mmmm, y-yes, but I am—I was,” you whine at the pinch of your clit. He grinds it with the push and stir of his thumb. “I was…so close!”
He bites his lip; you look too cute when you’re honest, baby. “Well, make up your mind; tell me what you want.”
You gulp as your boyfriend tweaks your pearl, causing quick twitches in your thighs. “P…Please, put your fingers back inside, ‘Toru,” your hips jerk to rub his digits against your vulva and mark more of your essence on him. “I wanna cum on themm…”
Gojo uses his free hand to strip his blindfold off his face, finally letting his royal blue eyes free to view you. “Yeah? Gonna cum on my fingers one more time for me?” He teases your entrance with the prints of his middle finger.
Head pounds as you nod your head. “Yess, let me!”
But then, the snow-haired man lifts his eyebrows while straightening up a bit. “You sure? You don’t wanna cum on something else?” He unzips and discards his jacket before unbuttoning his pants. “Something…better?”
Your eyes misty with wanton blink to see what he’s referring to, a silent gasp when you see his erect cock spring out. The curve of his length makes your mouth water, and the precum leaking out of his urethra to the frenulum is breathtaking. You don’t even realize your lips curling into a smile. “Yes, Satoru,” the folds of your labia space apart from spreading the crevice of your ass. “Make me feel better, please?”
Holy fuck, you would be the end of him. Azure eyes narrow, “Such a good princess,” and he coos as he smacks the tip of his dick onto your vagina. 
The tip of him taps onto the slit, pushing in with every inhale you take. Your come used as lube makes the introduction accessible, and you squeal once the cockhead makes it inside. As you take Gojo inch by inch, the left curve scrapes your walls, toes curling at the contact. And once he puts all of him inside, you cry at the brush of your cervix. 
“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he coaxes you in hushes, yet he grinds his pelvis down to the hilt. He can’t help it, loving the endearing whines you let out when he touches up on your most delicate parts. “Just let it out, alright?”
He speaks for you as his hips begin to move at a mediocre cadence, not enough time for you to prepare for the onslaught of grazes to your sweet spots and feverish pokes to your womb. “—Nngaah! W-Wait, Sa’oruu; not t’faast—Ahaaa!!” Gojo doesn’t stop, though; he is just constantly snapping his hips with a salacious hum as your walls clamp around the foreign limb ravaging your insides.
Inevitably, you howl with eyes sewn shut as your orgasm comes caving in, your cunt puckering on Gojo’s shaft as you come on him for the third time in a row. He savors the feeling of you tightening around him, thrusting sluggishly to enjoy the moment before he removes to fist himself. Your sticky fluids sheathing his cock collects on his fingers. 
“Say ahhh~,” and he brings them to your lips, where you eagerly lather his digits in saliva with your tongue and suck. “Good job, cutie!”
₊˚⊹ ᰔ Getō Suguru ⋮ voyeurism (consensual) - masturbation (f! + m! receiving) - sex toy; wand vibrator - squirting - clitoral play - sir kink - pet names (darling, pumpkin, sweetheart) - mention of drool/spit.
He loves watching you—his all-time guilty pleasure.
Geto sits on the armchair situated by the side of the hotel bed, where you lay with your legs spread and your panties rolled up to your thigh. 
Lacy strips of material decorate your body, presenting your boyfriend with the newest lingerie you wish to spoil him with. Matching thigh-high stockings suspended by the garters keep the entire look together—a nice catch for violet eyes to consume.
But not as eye-catching as the commotion between your legs: tiny fingers are toying with your vulnerable cunt, sticking the middle one inside with the help of your slick. Pretty moans slip out of your puffy lips as the pace of your hand goes swifter.
You fingering yourself as your boyfriend watches with a glass of wine in one hand? Geto couldn’t be any higher on a cloud than now.
“Mmmm, ahhhhh,” your eyes flicker to where your man sits and observes. “Suguruu…”
“Mmm? Yes, darling?” He takes a sip of his glass. “You look so good, you know that?”
The comment has you giggling with a light breath, swirling your middle finger around. Geto sees you tease your forefinger inside, loving the way your thighs quirk as you push it in. His eyes are honed at how quickly your come soaks whatever comes in contact.
“Must feel good, too.” He inquires with a raised brow, sneaking a hand down his pants to unfasten his belt and slither into the dark to meet a hard boner. “You’ve been at it for five minutes straight like I told you; good girl.”
“So good,” you purr because of the acclaim. “But, it’s not…enough.” 
Geto takes another gulp of the red liquor. “And why’s that?”
It doesn’t surprise him when you swig your head around to look at him properly, eyebrows knitted together. “Please, Sugu…”
“Please, what?” He stands up after setting the glass down, bringing his pants down a bit to have his erection breathe before returning it to his fisted grasp. “Can’t know unless you tell me.”
You ask with quivered lips and a soliciting gaze—you know he knows what you’re talking about, just taking pleasure in the circumstances where you have to beg. “Please, I want you to stick it in.”
Lips curl to a smile, stroking his cock faster. “Stick what in, sweetheart?” He loves your back-and-forth game, seeing your posture slipping with every question.
You point to his dick with your toes. “I want you…in me.”
Ah, yes, your reward. As his sweet thing, Geto promises to care for you when you obey him. And he’ll admit you have done your part exceeding well as always: adorning the lingerie set as a treat, pleasuring yourself in front of him, and wetting your fingers and thighs of your fluid. It all makes him so turned on that you deserve to be pampered. 
…However, something was still missing. And Geto knows you’re aware of it, too.
“I don’t know,” he plays coy as he mounts on top of the bed to crawl beside you. “You still haven’t done that thing I always like.”
You plead more with watery orbs. “Hmmm…I can’t do it alone; you do it better…” Your fingers leave your aching slit sensitive and damp. “Please, help me.”
“Oh? You want my help?” Geto takes your digits into his mouth to suck them clean, the sight putting your breathing to a halt. “Ask me properly, then I might give you a hand.” Right as he says that, you jolt at the brush of his middle and forefinger against your unattended clitoris.
“…! I-I,” you swallow spit. “I want you to help me—gasp!”
“That’s not how you ask properly, sweetheart.” He scares you a bit with a threatening pinch.
“…Please, sir,” now that’s more like it. “Please make me cum like you always do!”
A proud scoff leaves him. “Thought you’d never ask,” Geto leaves the bed quickly to retrieve something next to the wine glass. He then requests once he proceeds, “Spread your legs.”
You follow his words with haste, distancing your thighs apart for him to position between. Licking your lips as he rests one leg on his shoulder and turns on the item he brought along, whirring vibrations have you bite your bottom lip.
“Ready?” You eagerly nod, and he descends the wand to your vulva. Your frame jolts at the contact of your clit, meeting the shaking toy surface for a flick of a second. You choke on air and Geto chortles. “Ehhh, but you said you were ready?” 
“B-But that was a bit intense…!” Tears begin to pool at the corner of your eyes; your nerves heighten to a peak. 
“I know,” he brings the want back to your clit. This time, he doesn’t stop at your screams. “That’s the point. You said you wanted my help, right?”
You knew this would happen, him using the vibrating toy so roughly that you can’t voice out your opinions adequately. Fuuuck!! It was too intense how hard he pressed the wand on your sore bud, circling and grinding to the point that your words transformed into incoherent babbles. Geto bends down, the added weight not making it any better for you to squirm away from him and his antics.
And yet…it feels so fucking gooood!! The added pressure hits your spot efficiently with speed and energy, pleasing shocks coursing through your body through every zig-zag motion. You howl when he brings the toy to your labia; the vibrating surface feels way too good that you’re clamping onto a void nonstop. Drool escapes your lips, as do the tears plummeting down hot cheeks.
“Heh, so fucking cute,” Geto comments to you before claiming your tongue to suck on for you to whimper desperately. Spit exchanged with wild tongues, teeth clashing amongst the muffled mewls and moans between the satisfaction. You slurp on his wet muscle in gratitude, head pounding from all the ecstatic commotion occurring.
Geto then flicks the wand up and toy, hitting both your folds and clit simultaneously, and your eyes travel up to your skull, almost choking on his spit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit—you can feel it. And when it hits you, it hits you hard.
As your orgasm comes crashing down, so does the liquid you squirt out from the stimulation of your glands. The secretion goes around with the help of the toy, continuously gliding across, spraying onto your thighs and abdomen. Geto gets caught in the crossfire, the watery substance plastering onto the wand, his hand, forearm, and cock. Not to mention the sheets of the bed underneath you two.
The onyx-haired man smirks between smooches; there it is. His mouth leaves yours, spit connecting the two pairs of lips from the messy make-out session. Purple eyes take a good long look at the entire thing; your fucked out expression stuck with the trembles of your body—and he couldn’t be even more turned on!
“There you go, pumpkin!”
₊˚⊹ ᰔ Ryōmen Sukuna ⋮ size difference (true form! kuna) - breast fondling - thigh-riding - anal fingering (f! receiving) - cowgirl position - double penetration; anal & vaginal insertion - asking permission - pet names (little plaything, good girl, pet) - mention of pain.
He smirks. “Enjoying yourself?”
You nod your head with quivers. “You feel so…good, my Lord…”
“Hmph. I can tell, making a mess on my thigh like a real fucktoy.”
Sukuna enjoys your company—a hard thing for many to grasp or comprehend in link with the King of Curses. But yes, he seems to like to have you around him, especially when you’re desperate for him.
You were indeed his most precious thing — a rarity as the cursed man doesn’t have the time nor drive to indulge in such trivial items. Yet you seem to have been the exception for such doctrine. It didn’t happen overnight or months, but a miracle did happen for him to find something – or someone – worthy of his attention when he’s in the mood. 
And that’s where you come in, his little cherished plaything summoned to his quarters to save him from boredom. 
Sukuna lay on his futon with you atop him, straddling his massive thigh between your legs without your underwear on. You move your hips to and fro, gliding your cunt across his skin and covering him with your come. His lower legs kept to your legs so you don’t run away.
Your lips shudder as you sway. “Hahhh, Lord Sukuna…I–I can’t—“
“Hmm? Speak up.” His lips curl to a deeper, devious sneer. “Can’t what?”
“Nnhhaa…I can’t keep going; I’m too—” You exhale through your mouth as your spine jitters from the slight raise of his thigh. “T’ tender…”
“Oh? Is that supposed to swade me or something?” He raises his sole salmon brow in amusement, and your grip on your legs is tighter. “You stop moving when I say so.”
“Y-Yes, my Lord, but—Taahh…!” His upper left arm grabs for your wrists to keep them on his chest, the tongue from his abdomen lick your elbow. “I’ve been doing this for a while…any more, and I could break.”
His expression remains impassive. “What else am I having you do this for?”
“Mmmm, my Lord, please,” your eyes flutter to his comely face, all four crimson eyes fixed on yours. “I don’t wish to cum on just your thigh. I wish to c—oh God…To cum on your cocks.”
Sukuna scoffs; your meek honesty is a tiny bit reputable. “I don’t recall saying you have a say in where and when you can cum. You seem to enjoy my thigh for this long; you can keep it up.” You weren’t prepared for a hand to sneak up to caress your bum. “I don’t think you’re grateful.”
“B-But, I’ve been so good to you all this time!” Do you dare keep questioning him? You earned yourself a finger pushed inside your ass. You better plead your case incredibly. “I’ve come for you this long with no complaints, and I am honored that you gain pleasure from mine…Yet, I want you to feel the inside,” your ears burn from your confession, yet the truth is all you can say. “Rather than the outside.”
Now, he can’t lie; the way you phrased that did spark his interest way more than it intended. But he hasn’t said anything yet, so you continue begging. 
“Please, my Lord,” your hips go faster for your sore folds to indulge in the friction, and the finger in your asshole has you sway even more. “Please,please,pleaseee!! I want you…Want nothing but you…!”
Hmph, so pathetic. Your hopeless pleas have the behemoth’s grin grow broader, the thick digit in your butt pushing in and out to the point of you humming. “What a wailing pet I have to deal with...However, you have been good.”His strong hands grab for you to pull you up closer, your stomach brushing one of the cocks standing erect. “Go on, don’t have me do the job myself.”
A curt nod is given to your master as you raise your lower half and crawl further for it to align where his groin is. Your hand grabs for the dick upfront while Sukuna grasps the one below it, and you slowly drop your lower region until his glans kiss your vulva. Inhales and exhales ease your nerves while you push down on the tip, gasping aloud once your chasm swallows it in as the initial pain diminishes slowly with time.
“Good,” A pleased purr rumbles his chest. “Now for the other,” he brings the other tip to your anus, your job maintaining a calm breathing technique as he pushes himself into you. The sting of something foreign entering lasts for a couple of seconds until the second cockhead makes its way inside your rear. 
Your mouth is agape as you allow yourself a few moments for your body to accommodate their girthy lengths before Sukuna playfully smacks your ass to attend to him. And so you do, your ass falling sluggishly as your holes occupy with your master’s shafts, venturing deep inside your channels and rubbing on your walls effortlessly have you whimper.
“Little plaything,” he calls you once your butt lays down on him, rubbing his cheek on yours before licking your ear. He whispers, “What do you say to me after letting you have your way?” His gruff voice, so close to your eardrum, lowered to a hush, has your stomach doing knots.
You reply with a trembly sigh. “Thank you…my King,” You look into his eyes as you express gratitude, and his face comes near to claim your lips.
“Good girl.”
₊˚⊹ ᰔ Fushiguro Tōji ⋮ sloppy kisses/making out - Daddy pink - missionary + mating press positions - clitoral play (tweaking and swiping) - breeding kink - creampies - unprotected sex - pet names (baby, hun, mama) - mention of drool/spit.
“Ahhh, haaaahh, D-Daddy—Mmmph!!”
“I know, baby, I know…Fuck, so nice and tight.”
Toji loves the way you take in his cock. His sweet, little things grit their teeth as he stuffs his entire length into your insides, your gummy walls clenching around the girth, stretching you out to the point of toes curling. 
Your back pressed down to the sheets of your shared bed, your legs wrapped around Toji’s waist as he plows into your wet cunt, excess come exiting from the union of your sexes stains not only the sheets but the base of his cock. The room is a bit dark yet warm, with only light from the television basking on your naked bodies. Sounds of plap, plap, fill the silence during your intimacy.
His scarred lips latch onto yours, steamy kisses dwelling into a plane of passion by the second with every mewl he takes from your breath. Stuffing his tongue into your mouth overwhelms your senses, orally stimulating your drive to euphoria. And to his pleasure, you suck on his wet muscle, rewarding you with more spasmodic ruts to your vagina.
Toji relishes the feeling of him wanting him, your body reacting to his every touch and soft caress while his lower half puts you through the most nerve-wracking pleasure. He then cruises a hand down to where your clitoris is, tweezing it with his forefinger and thumb. And the scream he drinks is just delectable.
“—Mmaahh! Ohhhhfuuuck,” spit from the kiss trails from your puffy lips to your chin. “T’ muuuch, Daddyyy!! I’m t’ fuuull…!!”
“Yeah? ’S too much?” He repeats with a chuckle, licking your cheek. “But y’re doin’ so well, hun, takin’ my dick like a good girl.” More swipes on your clit have your arms wrapping around his neck to his amusement. “Hnnnng…Wringin’ me out like crazy…”
You wail to his ear as he presses his forefinger on your vulnerable bud. “Ohhhh, feel shoo goood…Gonna cum.”
Words that have Toji’s emerald eyes darken licentiously. “What’s that, mama?” He rubs his hot cheek to yours; he heard what you said perfectly—but it’s satisfying to listen to your shy self repeat yourself.
“D-Daddyyy, pleaseee—Mmmfff!” An abrupt thrust makes you shrill. “Please make me cummm…!”
“Nnnmm! Shiiit, don’t do that,” he hisses at the clasp of your walls on his girth. “Gonna make me knock ya up…”
You whine. Your hand brushes through his nape onto his raven hair. “Give it to me; I want you to fill me up!”
He scoffs. “Yeah? Want Daddy to bust my load inside again,” he grinds his pelvis down to rub on your G-spot. “Gonna be good, and let me fill ya up til’ y’re all fat with a baby?” 
“Yessss, Daddy, please, pleaseee” You kiss and suck the skin of his neck, and he whirs. “Make me all fhat with cum, please! I wanna cum—Mmmm!— and have yer baby!!”
“Heh, fuck, y’re driving me crazy…Stay still, baby,” he coos before arranging upright to unscrew your legs, bringing them to your chest before he cages you back with his added weight and pounds into your swollen cunt relentlessly. You howl and scream at the increased cadence, more come spilling down the crevice of your ass with every push of his cock, and his balls smacking your taint frequently. 
“Ohhhh!! NnnooohmyGod!!” You throw your head back to the pillow, unable to do anything else but take him, forcing you into submission. The angle aids deeper penetration, having your head pound harder and your eyes stuck to the ceiling. “Yesssss…Harder, Daddy, please go hardeeer!!”
“Haaahh, I’m tryin’, mama,” he grits his teeth, pistoning his cock frantically to have you speaking in tongues. The sounds of skin slapping get louder and louder, furthering the heat exchanged and the erotic atmosphere.
“Ohhhfuckin’shiiiiit…!! I’m gonna cum,” scrapes to your cervix push you to the edge, threatening to shut down entirely as this keeps going on. “I’m cumming, I’m…Ohoooo!”
Black bangs stick to his sweaty forehead, “Me too, hun…! ‘Bout to bust my—Lllmmm!!” Jesus, your tight walls have him in a chokehold, his abs tensing as the inevitable takes place.
Your walls flutter on his cock as your climax comes first to lock you down, shrieking as the tremors rock you to your core. Toji falls second, releasing his semen into you once again and filling you up with his white seed with a groan. He pulls you in for another kiss, saliva traversing through tongues, dancing with each other with shared moans until both bodies relax after their respective highs.
The cool air brings you two back to reality, Toji dismissing his lips away from you to lick the saliva while withdrawing his length from your inner texture and watching the pool of essence exert your hole and slide down to the messy sheets. The sight makes the older man snicker, licking his scar in contentment as you murmur breathless ‘thank you’s for the reward.
“Y’re welcome, mama.”
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© HOSHIGRAY2024 ✮ reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ⊹ header art by hyocorou + dividers by @cafekitsune.
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sosasturns · 4 months ago
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WHERE DEM CHERRIES AT? matt sturniolo
matt thought he’d died and gone to heaven the moment his dick slid between your tits, thick and flushed as you pressed them together, bouncing them to the pace of his thrusts. his breath hitched, jaw slack, lips parted as he watched himself disappear into the plush of your chest, the tip peeking out slick and needy before vanishing again.
“holy fuck,” he choked out, head falling back against the pillows before snapping forward again—because there was no way in hell he wasn’t watching this. his hands gripped the sheets, knuckles white, resisting the urge to just grab—to squeeze, to push your tits together harder, to thrust up and lose himself completely.
his pupils were blown, mouth hanging open as he sucked in shallow, shaky breaths. he was hypnotized, practically cross-eyed with it, like he’d been starving for this exact moment his entire life and was just now realizing it.
“you like that?” you teased, voice all honey, all sweet, dragging your tongue across his flushed tip when it peeked through.
matt’s breath stuttered, a groan ripping through his chest, hand flying up to grip your wrist—like he needed something to ground himself, to tether him before he lost his goddamn mind.
“baby, you don’t even know,” he muttered, voice wrecked, barely able to get the words out. his hips bucked up, his cock sliding messily through your spit-slicked skin, and his fingers curled around your wrist, tightening. “shit, you’re gonna make me cum just looking at you.”
his head dropped back again, adam’s apple bobbing, lashes fluttering, and for a second—just a second—you swore you saw his eyes roll back. completely blissed out, so far gone over the sight of your tits alone.
“fuck,” he rasped, chest heaving. “fuck, i need—i needa—”
you grinned, shifting closer, letting him finally cup them, palms hot and greedy, fingers digging into soft skin like he couldn’t believe they were real. his thumbs swiped over your nipples, almost in awe, before his grip tightened, squeezing as he thrust up again.
his head lifted, eyes hazy as they locked onto yours. “marry me.”
you blinked, caught off guard. “what?”
his lips were pink, glossy, spit-slick from how much he’d been licking them, biting them, working himself up just from the sight of you. he swallowed, jaw clenched, eyes heavy.
“nothing,” he breathed, shaking his head. then, quieter—more to himself than to you—“just fuckin’ love you.”
his hips stuttered, cock twitching between the tight warmth of your tits, and his grip on your wrist turned almost desperate. “fuck—baby—”
you knew it was coming—knew he was coming—but you still stuck your tongue out, ready for it, waiting—
and when it hit, hot and thick, spurting across your tongue, your lips, spilling down the valley of your chest, matt lost it.
“fuck—oh my fucking god—” his voice cracked, a broken, wre-cked little noise that had your stomach clenching. his thighs tensed, whole body shuddering as more of it spilled over your tits, dripping down your skin. but he kept going, hips still jerk-ing, ropes of cum spilling out in messy spurts because he couldn’t stop.
he was still coming.
his eyes were barely open, just slits of blue barely peeking through, his jaw clenched so hard it could shatter, breath coming in ragged, fucked-out gasps. his lips trembled, thighs quivering, hands gripping the sheets like he needed to hold on or he’d float away.
he could see it—his cum thick and glossy against your skin, smearing over your tits as you squeezed them together like you wanted to stay covered in it.
“jesus christ—” matt choked out, voice nothing but a desperate moan.
you swiped your fingers through the mess, licking it up, watching him the whole time, and his cock twitched—again.
“ohhh—ohhh fuck,” matt whined, actually fucking whined, head dropping back as another broken groan tore out of him.
his hips jerked, cock twitching, another weak spurt dripping from the tip because he swore to god he was gonna fucking pass out.
“matt,” you cooed, sweet as ever, leaning in, brushing your lips against his jaw. “you good, baby?”
his chest was heaving, body still trembling, completely wrecked, completely fucking whipped.
his response was breathless, barely a whisper—
“gimme a minute.”
©SOSASTURNS
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sosas 💬: watched this reel last night n giggled.. had to type ts up last min. we’ll be back to regularly scheduled programming soon chat
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kooyabooya · 5 months ago
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ENTROPY
karina x m reader
14k words
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“It’s a stupid bet, Karina.” 
Karina lifts an eyebrow, only at certain points in conversation where she thinks your opinion is highly invalid. 
“No, it isn’t. You didn’t even let me properly explain,” she tells you, “All I want is a favor. Not a bet.” 
“It’s still asking a lot from me when I’m already dealing with your bullshit.” 
She sighs, leaning back on the counter. You’ve got a hand to your hip and an expression on your face that says: “fuck off six ways back to Sunday,” That’s how these usual briefings go, the quick dump or fill-in of whatever the fuck is worth sharing in each others’ lives. 
Instead, she raises her hands up in surrender, lips pulled inward. “Fine. Would it be better for me to come back to you on this sometime later?” 
“Can I suggest not having you bother me ever again?” 
A snort, then a cackle is what she gives. So, you roll your eyes because you know that it's always, always a tell-all for disaster. 
“Oh honey,” she says, patting your shoulder while you look over to see her running off to do her own thing, “You’re gonna be stuck with me for a long time. You just haven’t seen it yet.” 
To bring things up to speed: you didn’t know what the fuck you were thinking when you brought Karina along as your roommate. 
At first, things were great. 
The living styles were well complimented. Separate rooms, similar schedules, the usual activities you’ve done together for fun. Even the chores were assigned (though by second nature and good habits). This small space was well put to be a slice of home away from home whilst going through the ranks of college. 
She invited some of her friends and classmates over from time to time; some of which you had a partial interest in. Sometimes you’re out with Karina’s setups, other times she’s the one that’s out and about while you were holding the fort down. For the most part, life was easy having your best friend since middle school hang around with you. 
Still, no issues to mention whatsoever. 
But then- 
“Do you have a minute?” 
It’s 8 pm on a Saturday and Karina’s coming to you for her regular yaps and endless rants since the girl just talks and talks and talks. 
You curse at yourself at times for always being the listener.
“Yeah,” you say, closing your laptop on the kitchen island when she rounds the corner, coming to your side. “I don’t have anything, so I’ve always got time.” 
You’re hoping that it isn’t anything out of the ordinary; from the looks of things, all signs seem to point that way. She’s in her sports shorts with one of your (stolen) t-shirts - the collar cut off highlighting her shoulder - hair tied up and in glasses, you automatically assume that she isn’t going anywhere. 
“Remember when I brought up that thing?” 
“What thing?” 
Then it hits you: that thing. 
You had your fingers crossed that she would forget about asking you for whatever she needed you for. Sucks that she had a good memory - not only that, you’ve made yourself reliable for her so many times before; turning her down was simply an impossibility. 
Not all heroes wear capes, sadly. 
Karina slaps your shoulder, easily seeing through your mask of sarcasm. 
“Don’t act dumb, genius. That ‘thing’ was just coming along with me for once.” 
Her brows furrowed, the corners of her lips tracking back across her cheeks. You can’t say no let alone ignore the poor girl. 
“You know me with outings,” you reason, sensible. In most cases like these, Karina comes to you out of others to bring up her issues, her dilemmas; her self-inquisitions, as she would like to call them from time to time. And usually, they’re straightforward. This should be an easy cakewalk. “I’m all for it, but what’s the point when you force me to be more sociable when you’re dragging me around?” 
“Because maybe you’re the biggest pussy I’ve had the misfortune of being with.” Karina huffs, arms crossed and face left in distress. She examines you so closely under her microscope that it’s borderline invasive - but you don’t tell her that. So you twine your fingers in between each other and return the laser-focused stare she’s giving you, taunting almost along the lines of - look, if you’re gonna be convincing, you gotta do better than that. 
All she does is throw a shoulder shrug, awkwardly -  dropping them so fast that you’re putting everything in your willpower to not notice the subtle bounce of her chest. 
Her palm faces up toward the ceiling, hoping for a response. You purse your lips out to spite her. She has to deal with your bullshit head-on, tragically. 
“It’s always the work, gym, eat, sleep, do more work at home, and repeat. All the fucking time. So bland and-” 
You tilt your head the more her insults fill your ears. 
“You disgustingly piss me off.” 
Her fingers press on your forehead when you give the subtle eye smile and smirk combination, finally pushed over the edge now she doesn’t want anything to do with you. She paces around the kitchen and you can see her eyes dart over at the corner. 
She won’t leave you alone. 
Not until she gets what she wants. 
Besides, you’ve learned that Karina isn’t very good at persuading people to do something. Though eventually- 
“Why didn’t you just say you’re inviting me to go out for a night?” You ask, knowing that the bluntness is one of the few ways to bring Karina back around once she’s done with her tantalizing tangents. “You wouldn’t be here going crazy if you just told me-” 
“Because you’re the one who can’t seem to get it through your thick-ass skull in the first place!” She exclaims, first underneath her shirt that reveals some of the skin on her waist, the ends of her panties now apparent the more her boxer shorts keep slacking off her hips. You can’t afford to stare. You know you can’t. 
The recurring cycle of interest: keeps coming back to haunt you. 
You concluded or accepted the fact years ago that Karina was never meant to be yours. Yet- she would always come to you whenever she had boy problems or wanted your opinion on what she should wear or do with every single one of her crushes she ever had throughout her life, hiding the fact that you wanted to be one of them at some point. 
All those wet dreams, fantasies, the fake situations of romance you’ve deluded yourself into - those kinds of things had to be channeled into something else to fill the space. 
You’ve kept it cool. Sometimes, in between the bleeding weeks, where she’s roaming around the house in the shortest pair of shorts, the tightest of tank tops, the curves way more present when she’s light on the balls of her feet, you eventually broke and resorted to that trusty old lotion and sock combo behind the door to your room. 
With a girl dressed like that, and those tits filling up your brain- 
(You’d be committing perjury holding yourself back for as long as you did.) 
“Okay, for the last time,” says Karina, hands stacked and her feet crossed. “All I ask is for you to just get out of the apartment for once, and have some fun. Is that hard?” 
You shake your head. “No, of course it isn’t.” 
Karina nods, content. She takes off her glasses and puts it on the marble counter, her pretty lashes batting with those violet-black eyes of hers. “There. That wasn’t so difficult, was it?” 
And there she goes, tapping your forearm while you nod in agreement; does a little hop in place like some cute bunny, her shirt loose and flowing and moving everywhere. She’s such a fucking bitch. So shameless. This girl’s attitude will be the death of you. 
She’s shaking her fists up in the air, doing some cha-cha move. The shirt isn’t doing her justice for her fucking breasts. 
Then she leans in, close. Her breath grazes your face and neck. She scrunches her nose while you’re ‘shooing’ her away; aware of the message and her point. Karina then steps back, tying a knot to her shirt, making her figure a lot more apparent. By some crazy form of timing, you turn your body towards her, freezing in place while the shirt molds around her chest, her waist - you’re clenching your jaw and gritting your teeth behind your lips since you wonder if she’s doing it on purpose. 
The imagination. The possibilities. 
“C’mon,” Karina says, reaching for your hand and tugging it, tilting her head up and angrily pouting. For fucks sake, the slightest resistance of pull makes those mounds bounce in place. You’re sick and twisted; she’s the sole reason to blame. “I want you to be my plus one.” 
“Had I not already said yes?” You’re asking, swearing under your breath. The ‘plus one’ role is a direct translation to ‘hey, i’m going to get fucked up tonight, and i want you to be there on standby to carry me home or even dd, okay?’. You remember from past experiences that it also means that being with her is a dice roll of what kind of Karina you have to deal with: the kissy Karina, the pissed-off Karina, the Karina with the ‘carry me home with the eyes that say fuck me until I can’t walk’ attitude. 
Sigh and roll your eyes back, it’s burned into your memory anyway. 
Putting it in layman’s terms wasn’t gonna cut it. Being honest isn’t gonna change her mind. You could get the King of England to threaten her for a price on her head and she’ll still find a way to get it overturned. 
As nicely as you’d want to be, it can only hold for so long. 
Karina isn’t the kind of person to throw you into the fire right away -no, she’s smarter than that. 
“You did,” she says, shaking her head side to side, moving her shoulders along since you’ve put her in a good mood. You’re trying to decode the action to the expression, connecting the dots possible if she’s fucking around or being genuine. Give into the preaching and encouragement that if you did go with her you’d have your fun with someone like her carrying half her energy - okay, you have a type; nothing wrong with that, but still. “Why? Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts already?” 
You have a hand up along with your mouth open; Karina’s a bit dense to think pragmatically. 
“What’s it gonna take with you to get off of your lazy ass and live life? When was the last time you and I went out together and did some dumb shit? That was when you had that thing with- who was that one girl? Winter? Or was it Giselle?” Karina carries on, trailing off with you walking not far from her. 
She pulls the hair tie out of her head - after what it seems to be five minutes since putting it on - her head moves to let the messy locks flow and pool behind her back, stretching her arms out before turning left and into her room. You stop at the doorway when she turns around, arms braced to the frame, smirking. 
“You said you weren’t doing anything, right? And you don’t have work until next week, right? So that automatically means that you’re free for the weekend?” 
“Well, yeah. Don’t forget that you went out with me and Ningning for that boring ass movie. So please, if you stop giving me shit for this, can I at least get ready before we head out?” 
Karina groans. “Ugh, why are you so fucking difficult to work with? I’ve set you up with three of my friends so far and only one of them has gotten close to getting in bed with you.” 
“Maybe I’m complicated,” you say back, turning the other cheek and thinking about that specific time not that long ago when she gave you the double thumbs up before being dragged by Winter onto the dance floor at that club near the school. 
“Complicated people don’t put their hands behind their back and let the girl get all touchy with them,” she teases, stopping in the middle of your doorway, shirt off and all she’s got is that jet black bra with the thinnest straps you’ve ever seen on her collarbones, but she doesn’t stop there: “Might I add that you wanted to try your luck into dating again and- hey. I know that kiss with Winter was the best one you’ve had in a while.” 
Karina smiles at your confused expression, hitting a pressure point. You’ve folded for girls before. She was there for some part of the fun. It’s a weakness; playing to your ideal characteristics and all she has to do is play the matchmaker and watch the magic happen. She got close. Almost. The support was unwavering, but you’re still searching. 
You don’t take long to get yourself situated, putting on whatever essentials you felt was right. Karina took a little bit more time to get ready. You know how she is: every part of her outfit has to be thought-out and well-layered if means of raising the ‘down to get fucked’ meter up past the 100-point scale. Sometimes it takes five minutes, other times it takes hours. 
She walks out of the hallway in a simple outfit. A grey tank top and baggy jeans that nearly cover her feet. Her brown leather jacket was the finishing touch draped around her arm, wrist, and fingers shining in her typical jewelry. 
The makeup was light too, a soft blush applied but the main culprit was her lips - and man, they have no right being that plump. 
“You’re staring.” 
A blink and a smirk here. An eyebrow raised soon after: “Are you saying I’m being rude?” 
“No.” 
It doesn’t register in your mind that she’s all up in your space the next second, holding your breath when she looks up to your chin. 
“Is there something that you want to tell me?” 
“Karina-” 
“C’mon, you’ve thought about me that way at least once-” 
“Fucks sake Karina, you’re delusional. I would never. ” 
She nods with a devilish grin, tilting her chin up, humming. You’re breathing out of your nostrils when she backs away, heading over to the door to put on her shoes. Everything that this woman does makes you reconsider the consequences (but hey, you’ve imagined what it would be like for her to wake up in your bed, wear your clothes she won’t think of returning unless you fuck that bratty attitude off her tongue.) A woman like her who can do it all, and you’re holding her jacket once you and her step out of the apartment and close the door. 
Most people would give their praise and high regard for putting up with her for this long because you’ve held out longer than anyone would have imagined. 
You’ve dealt with her energy all these years, the countless shenanigans that you have gone through with her since high school, and occasions where she shouldn’t have dragged you in but still did anyway. There’s a tolerance that one can only take so much of with Karina, and you always fail at that. (Always.) 
She’s too good to be real. 
Later, she’s on the phone, calling and texting her other friends that she planned on meeting up with, waiting out in the front yard while you’re keeping her close - like what a natural bodyguard would do with their assignment. 
“Are you wearing my jacket?” asks Karina, pinching at the pelt. “I was gonna use that for later.” 
“I look better in it,” you muse. “But I’ll give it back to you later when it gets colder.” 
“I’m gonna need it later for my look.” 
“That look you have right now is gonna get you fucked.” 
Karina gives you the same tilt of her head; this time, there’s a slight twinkle in her eyes that looks like the lightbulb just went off in her head. You’ve lit the match within her or signed someone off to their demise waiting for them in the next hour or so. 
She bites down her smile, her ego inflated. “Guess we can put that as a separate bet between us, then.” 
Well. 
Fuck.
You realize right away that going out didn’t seem to be a bad idea after all. 
Plus, it’s only been roughly two hours since Karina convinced you to help her out and tag along so now you’re here: a half-full cup of her go-to and watching the sight of everyone having their fun with one other person or in a group. She, on the other hand, has a guy with her - breaking down the awkward wall and playing the act of softening up with the blaring music. 
It’s a steady groove, music flows in her body so elegantly. 
The ambiance alone pounds your eardrums, eyes occasionally getting blinded by the flashing lights coming from the DJ’s stage, dancing her heart away and letting loose because it’s the weekend. She’s not the only one, too. Her little entourage surrounds her, dancing along and giving their attention to Karina - each one of them attractive and dazzling to look at. Karina was never one for the limelight, but once she’s got something going, it never leaves her. 
You can catch yourself getting sucked in the moment you laid your eyes back on her. 
The law of attraction: embodied by Karina. A phenomenon that you’ve learned happens on a weekend basis. Everyone that knows or has met her for the first time, is automatically influenced by her which doesn’t take much for that to happen. Some are joining in for the vibe, while others are trying to lean into her ear and get her attention that way, let their bodies do the talking, and see if she’s willing. 
Bad news, this girl is. You’re treading dangerous waters carefully. 
Moment by moment, every single guy who tries to approach Karina retreat in dejection and defeat. You can see it in their heads hanging in shame, the slanted lips, some make a last-ditch effort to bring her back to the bar for another drink, only to be stopped with the simple raised hand of hers, friends coming along as reinforcements to stop the inquisitions. 
Her eyes lock on to you, watching from afar. Like a lighthouse; a signal and a haven for her to find comfort in. She motions you to come to the dance floor; and to that, you raise your glass in earnest, insisting that where you are right now is fine. 
You keep staring, sipping. 
She’s fixed up her top again to where the curves are much more present than usual. 
So you decide to down your bearings, hoping that the thought of Karina could be swallowed down with ease; her damned smile, head tilts,  the swaying of her body (along with bouncing in some places without a care in the world) to the upbeat tunes until she’ll decide she can’t do it anymore. 
At some point, she’ll have to come get you to join. 
And you’ve accepted that it will happen sooner or later. 
Your shoulder gets bumped by one of the people making their way through on accident, diverting your attention for a second. Then- 
Karina’s out of your line of sight. 
Next thing you know- 
She taps your shoulder, tugging on your shirt. 
“Hey-” 
The words you were going to say were: ‘hey, what gives?’ or ‘something wrong?’; but for some reason, you’re left in a stun lock - a trance. There’s also another thing that you realize right away when she has her arms slithering around your middle and up your shoulders. 
She looks around as you track her head movements, checking for something - ensuring that the coast is clear - you can start to get an idea of what she’s trying to do. Your brows furrow, thrown off by Karina’s stoic expression. It’s impossible to see or understand what’s going through her head, but she nicks her head back towards the dance floor, and you instantly get the message. 
“Need you in here, now,” she mouths, but you tilt your head down to hear her repeat it. She then pulls onto the floor while you’re also surveying the crowd, seeing if there was anything fishy. 
Karina guides your hands around her waist, noticing her fingers twitch as they graze your forearm, hinting that something was off. You’ve been near her before, but not like this. She then bumps into a few people standing behind her, prompting you to pull her back towards you - pressing her body, hand now to your neck, chin resting on top of her head- 
You can deduce that this is not her usual self - the reverberating bass pounding into your bodies and hers serving as this sort of proxy to dance more and think less. 
She scratches the ends of your hair right above the nape, irises burning into your face. You assume that this was the favor that she was talking about: going to the club with her and having a good time? Why the fuck did she have to make it sound so complicated in the first place?
“Stay close to me, okay? There’s this guy that’s been trailing us since we got here. I just need some time - help me out, please.” 
You look over your shoulder, Karina centers herself with her hands cupped around your neck, peering over as well. The strobe light blinds your vision for a second before turning back. “Wait, how can you be sure?” 
“Trust me,” she tells you, expression flat, serious. “You’ve got a good sixth sense about these kinds of things anyway, you’ll know.” 
“But-” 
“Isn’t that the guy you mentioned just now-” 
Karina’s quick to get a finger between your lips, darts her eyes out then onto you. The indication alone confirms all of your suspicions. You can’t even see the poor guy, not when the flashing lights are giving you nothing but snapshots amongst the silhouettes and shapes in the dark. “Look, be cool. You’re safe with me. If he gets close I’ll get in–” 
“No wait- it’s fine. Just leave him alone,” she butts in, leaning her head against your chest so she can hide her face. “This is already good, okay? You did great.” 
You cradle the side of her head when she looks up, tongue caught between her teeth slightly. “No, I want to see what was his deal-” 
“Can you shut the fuck up already?” 
“Karina, I-” 
She pulls your head into hers: locking lips, derailing your train of thought. 
You make a sound in her mouth in response to the confusion, but it stops the bickering you two were doing a few seconds ago. She could feel you pull away, but leans her head up back for more, claiming your lips through the kiss; you swear that you and her aren’t that drunk yet. 
It shuts you up, alright. A moment of reprieve that doesn’t give you any time to think because fuck, this girl is making you second guess every single choice you’ve made in your life up till this point, wondering if you’re ever going to take your golden chance or give Karina an earful when you and her get back home later. 
Your fingers dig into the dips of her lower back, her hands on your cheeks, overloading your senses with her lips, giving you hard teeth and a swiping tongue - no time to think or catch up. 
The rest of the world fades out from your head, nothing between you and Karina putting everything on the line in terms of her feelings - almost like the roles had been reversed with her struggling to believe you had a thing for her and you letting your actions do all the talking.
You’re not thinking about the amount of regret you’ll have once all of this is over. Friends just don’t kiss each other out of the blue. No. Karina fed you the false belief that you’d do anything she’d ask you to do, which is why you’re doing this with her. You think this is all a dream, but you sense everything; that diminishes the present thought right away. 
You’ll give as much passion back to Karina, because it’s what you would do for her regardless:
Follow her lead, and listen to what she says; there’s always something with her that you’re blindly agreeing to. 
Karina pulls away for a moment to breathe, next thing you know her tongue slips past against yours, and your grip on her body becomes a lot less pleasant since she’s unleashed that craving hidden within. 
You touch her teeth, smiling. Her forehead gently rubs against yours, breaking the kiss, when you notice it in your peripheral: 
A girl with a hand to her mouth.
One girl next to her with her hand wound up in her hair, in complete shock. 
The third girl behind the two nodded in approval with a sly smirk. 
Yeji, Ryujin, and Yujin: Karina’s other cute little trio, watching their lovely friends finally have their moment together. 
You look back at Karina, rubbing her bottom lip with her finger, internalizing the taste of you. 
Then the realization settles in. 
“That guy backed away from us,” she tells you, “but I gotta say, you’ve outdone yourself.” 
You glance over to see Karina’s trio watch as said guy turns his back into the crowd, retreating away. 
“What’s the matter? Speechless?” she asks again, finger happily dancing along your skin, and your hands aren’t moving off her body. You’ve never been shy with her, except this one time: right now. 
“Never with you,” you answer, matching her smug expression. “Never.” 
Karina hides her true intention again for a second, knowing that it’ll wither away the more she acts like this. Right, she can say one thing, though her actions are so easy to read from the minute she’s invaded your personal space. 
This girl is bad news in everything.
So you hold your gaze with her, wondering, connecting the dots. Speculating how long she’s been planning for this to happen, to be like every other guy that’s ever tried to get her in their bed or between those legs. Even so, she knows you’re not simple to break, and that’s where she’s got you. “I knew you had to be sure somehow, just didn’t think you’d go this far.” 
“Desperate times, desperate measures.” Karina eyes cross slightly as she stares at you, thumb grazing along your chin. “You were taking too long for my liking.” 
Liking? Surely not. 
There’s no possible way she could-
“What the hell does that mean?” You ask, staring back, tongue tip between your teeth. Your breathing starts to shallow. 
Karina leans into the side of your head, amidst the noise of the speakers and funneling her voice well in your ear canal. “It doesn’t make sense to me, you know. How we’ve known each other for this long, and we haven’t thought of even trying it at least once.” 
She knows where she’s going with this - all those times you’ve ogled at her hoping that she wouldn’t notice - or all of those times where you’ve talked about everything that had to involve life at any given point. You’d hoped that you dodge the question for a little longer. 
Karina’s friends managed to crack it out of you a while back, remembering it well. Her touch on your body has gone gentler, never breaking her gaze on you.
“How come you and I have never hooked up with each other?” 
You freeze. Feel the warmth spread across your cheeks; it’s an immediate catch, and you were praying silently that this was a dream. 
Exposed. Is what you are. 
Though Karina doesn’t falter here. Her eyes shimmer in the dim lighting. Wistful. You’re giving her enough time to figure out where your head was leveled at; like she would understand whether you wanted this or not. 
“Honestly, we could’ve.” You admit, with a sharp inhale. Hoping that the answer alone is enough for her sake. “Like- god, it would’ve been so easy. I wanted-” 
“Is it because you and I are just friends? That’s complete bullshit if that’s what you’re sticking with. I’ve seen you look at me that way before, or with my back turned; goes to show that you don’t have what it takes to get what you want, but I do.” 
You pull her close, and that gets her flustered. 
Both of your hands are on her face, leaning on her, stopping right at the lips, watch her eyelids flutter in anticipation. The thrumming of your heartbeat pounds between your eardrums, until she looks at you dead in the eyes, sliding her hand lower and lower, quirks her eyebrows once her fingers lay land over your pants. 
Your throat bobs, swallowing on nothing. The lightbulb sets off in her head. 
“Would you look at that? Oh my. Honey, you’re just like the rest of them. Try to deny it all you want, but you can’t get the thought of using my body to get yourself off. And guess what? I’d let you.” 
She’s got a key charm in being forward. And you find it to be so fucking sexy; saying things like that with no care for who hears, keeping it blunt and straight to the point; she could talk her way out of a speeding ticket and she really could. Karina was simply being herself, you could point the culprit in the alcohol or maybe her friends, but you’re still caught in her crosshairs and the window of escape is closing fast. 
You don’t do anything to resist the pair of hands at your neck and the seat of your pants - or the fact that she’s yanking your head back to meet hers and you hear all her friends squeal at the mere sight of Karina getting her chance. Everything about this is sensational, a new thing to adapt and learn by the minute. 
Here, when she lets you pull away: “You can do better than that, sweetie. Tell. Me.”
You’ll tell her everything that she wants to hear: how you’ve had a crush on her since high school, how you’ve managed to stay by her side after all these years, the fact that you couldn’t jeopardize what you already had. Besides, the risk of losing her as a lover and a friend was too much to bear, that she isn’t the kind of girl to have sex with because you love her and that will be the end of it all. 
Sooner than later, you’ll tell her that. So to suffice, you say: “I could’ve, believe me. We just never did.” 
From that alone, Karina shakes her head, neither rejecting nor accepting. Her wrists slack behind your neck, bring her waist closer until you’re able to lace your fingers around your arm. You’re nervous at what might be going through her head right now, gnawing your inner lip to keep your mind occupied. 
She looks you dead in the eyes, a twinkle behind them: full of inspiration, desire, hunger, want. 
You kiss her again, because you believe that’s the only thing right to do. “How bout this,” she says, giddy and sultry, “Why don’t we find this out for ourselves?” 
This wasn’t the first time you’ve been in this position. 
And certainly, it won’t be the last, either. 
You’ve put up with Karina’s bullshit for as long as you could remember: from carrying her on your back after a long night out to those times of sleeping on the couch since she complained her bed was too stiff and decided to use yours. You can think of one instance of every emotion she has, nothing but fun memories in those moments. 
However, you’ve never been like this with her. 
Until tonight. 
You catch yourself failing miserably in keeping your guard up with Karina. Not when she’s taking every red light as her chance to kiss you in the car, her hand sliding under your shirt and grazing your pants shamelessly. Not when you’ve pressed her tits up against the elevator door and flipped her around kissing you once more so that the camera guy can see, hear her giggle and hum at this new and improved version of you that she’s created. 
It’s all a rush for her, the way you can’t let go of her past the door, pin her hips against the kitchen counter, peel off the layers of clothes starting with her jacket, grasp her breast held captive by the tight holds of her tank top. You raise her on the marble so that she can match your height - make her feel taller, build that ego up, give her the false impression that she’s the one having fun.
Most definitely on the fact that you’ve got her tank top off in record time, gawking at the immeasurable amount of skin along those luscious valleys you’ve classified as her breasts. 
Karina’s head goes sideways, inquisitive. She sees you have your sights set on the prize, all within arms reach. “That’s cute, you’ve been eyeing these babies ever since I moved in, god you’re not that hard to whirl around.” You have your fun at her neck while her fingers are working fast at your pants, sliding her hand underneath the elastic of your boxers- 
“Jesus baby,” she husks, appalled with the curl of your fingers along the length. She thought the bulge earlier was already apparent enough - oh how wrong she was, looking down at the newly claimed prize. “Since when the fuck were you hiding this from me? This is not the same cock I hear you jerk yourself off with now and then-” 
“Just one of my few surprises,” you cut her off, jolting your hips forward when the grip around your girth gets a tad bit tighter. “Believe me when I say this, you ain’t seen nothing yet.” 
Karina wets her lip, biting. 
She’s getting used to the new feeling of this. Of you. Her small hand holds you in place, trying to find the right words to describe or end with. You’re trying to see how far she would go - how much could she take; then, she drives another nail into the coffin: “Fuck. You’re like- really big.” 
You grin, since that’s got enough weight in the words to inflate your confidence through the roof. She twists her hand around while you’re peppering her face with your lips, over and over and over, until she’s completely broken you down and all signs seem to be pointing in that direction. 
You hear her hum in approval, sighing in relief, whisper these praises laced with your name. And when she says your name, genuinely, it comes off in a moment of seriousness - hallowed even. 
She’ll make you plummet into the depths of hell, or raise you to the golden pearly gates above; no matter the difference, you’re falling for one of two ways with her. 
It’s also putting you in a bad position because you know her experiences, what she wants, the mere basics of it. You pull her hips as she twists her hand by reflex, like it has a mind of its own, pumping your length. 
You hate how good she is at working you up. The wonders in sleight of hand: where to curl her fingers, how fast she should handle the strokes, the press of her thumb down on your tip, studying it while trying to figure out where to even start. 
“It’s not even fair at this point,” she tells you, sly smirking while you see her eyes fall halfway, softly laughing as she sees your knees buckle and hit the cabinet beneath her because you can’t respond properly. “You’re gonna take care of me so well. Using this to fuck my brains out.” 
Her smile goes even wider when your head falls back involuntarily, giving Karina the window to leave some marks of her own across your chest. 
Her ankles rest at the back of your thighs, leaning forward to get her other hand on your throbbing shaft, paying attention to your balls, weaving them between her fingers, dividing and conquering to no avail, to turn your mind into a puddle. 
“It’s gonna look so pretty in my ass,” Karina whispers into your ear, leaving more kisses behind, making you feel like you’re on cloud nine. “I bet I could make you cum with just my mouth, my hands. Maybe I’ll give you a tease, spread my legs and let you slip inside right here, since you’re so fucking hard that you could knock me out with this cock, hm?” 
Oh, what in the actual fuck- 
Right out of the gates, this girl is forcing you to be head over heels - to submit and bend to her will; she knows what to preach, her words alone fulfilling every single fantasy you have in the book, to take what’s hers and feed you that overpowering urge above all: to simply ruin her.
Unpredictability is something that Karina takes pride in: going slow at one point, then faster the next, dragging and shortening your breath in every stroke until the pressure becomes too much. 
She nods at her handiwork, sliding off the counter and pulling you by the dick across the apartment. That alone makes you snap and pin her - grab her by the arm and spin her around - press and bend her body over on the couch for a quick second. 
You pull her by the hair and shift her head; forcing her to lean up for a kiss. Flush your hips with hers where the weight of you might make her crumble right away. 
You almost feel bad about it, but that thought gets quickly diminished, because Karina knows how much she can handle. She wants to be taken rough, split apart, worship her body like it's some new testament you’ll reflect on in adoration, have her cunt fucked so thoroughly by you that she’ll come crawling back craving for more. 
“How long have you been waiting for this?” Karina grins into your cheek, running her hand up over yours greedily grasping at her tit. “All those slutty things I kept telling you, seems like you wanted some of the fun as well, huh?” 
Okay, she’s not wrong at all. You’ll bank that on the fact that she has most definitely heard you jerk yourself off at night, or the fact you’ve seen her walk out the shower naked but pretend to look the other way. With all those stories of her escapades, part of you wanted to join along now and then. 
So you give her mercy and lift yourself off from her, watch her glance over her shoulder when you’re following her to your room, fingers to the latch of her bra, the garment slipping off and falling to the floor. Her back is hypnotic to look at, and you find yourself chasing after her for another go. 
“This is gonna be bad for you,” she giggles, holding her by the door frame while your hands have a mind of their own, freely roaming across the canvas of her perfect body, sliding up and down and feeling the untouched territory yet to be claimed. “Can’t even stay away from me even for two seconds.” 
She sticks her ass out, dips her head down when you get a hold of her mound, the flesh alone having its little weight to it, graze your thumb over her nipples, pinch it, kiss the back of her neck, and leave another mark. You are going to take your sweet time with her; use your teeth, your mouth, your cock. Anything and everything in your arsenal to make Karina yours. 
It starts with the letdown. Now, we’re at a shuffle - a waltz, a sloppy waltz - until Karina spins herself around while you settle at the edge of your bed, hike up to your hips, rest them there, forearms on shoulders, kissing you once more. 
A gentle moan slips out of her mouth when you finally start indulging yourself in her fabulous tits. Seeing out the amount of fun you are going to have: licking, kissing, biting along the perfect skin. Your mind can’t seem to register the fact that your hands were made for holding them; the fit alone, it feels so nice. 
Fuck, it’s even better once you realize she’s so responsive to the touch. That alone prompts you to add oil to the fire and drop the intimate act for something more primal, hungrier. She does this little shimmy with her upper body, moving her breasts around for your mouth to be caught in between them like two mushy pillows molding around your face. 
Her hand slips under and grips around you again, the friction causing you to bite down on her skin. A fair trade at least - a two-way system - you touch her, she touches you. 
“God, I think I know why you held yourself back with me for this long,” her words heavy and just coherent enough to understand, “maybe I convinced myself that I couldn’t handle you.” 
You laugh into her breasts, her hand on the back of your head, tugging while she hears the hums. 
She sighs, relieved. Like there’s a weight finally off her shoulders. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?” One second later, she pushes your head away, jaw slack, eyes clouded with lust, drunk on the taste of her skin, your hand sliding lower and lower from her waist, the warm surface getting even hotter when you reach her panties, grazing the lace. 
“It’s unreal, I don’t even have to tell you to say anything-” she sucks in a breath at the feeling of your fingers soaking up her slick, swipe your thumb upwards across her clit. “You win baby. I’ll let you have your way. I promise.” She tilts your head up for a kiss, grining her hips down, forcing the groan from you down her throat. “I can give you everything you ever dreamed of having.” 
You don’t even know where to fucking start. 
“Don’t put words in my mouth,” you say, hitting the tip of your nose against hers; get a light-hearted laugh out. “I’ll make you regret them.” 
“Oh yeah? Why don’t you tell me what’s going through your head right now? With me on top? I’m all ears.” 
It’s even worse when you see her hand slithering down from her tits. Lower. Lower. The influence already affects you when she brings your hand around your cock, slowly tugging along as she treats herself to such a sight. 
That said sight of Karina playing with herself; sighing, murmuring, tilting her head slightly as her breath shudders at the sound of you groaning whilst doing the same thing with yourself. You see the damage, the marks, the places where you’ll leave more bruises than before. 
You just have to- fucking- look. You have her in such a state that you have never imagined yourself being in, and now that’s realized right in front of your eyes. 
So you tell her exactly how you’ll fuck her. What position she likes the most, where does she want you to take her, how much you’ll twist her mind into becoming more desperate for you and your cock, when you’ll make her cum, rail that poor cunt of hers until she’s sobbing in the filthiest fucking mess possible. 
“I’d be sinning,” you tell her, admittedly. “If I didn’t say that you’ve never imagined me fucking your tits unlike now. Better yet-” 
“And let me guess, you were hoping to God that there was at least somebody out there who could fulfill that desire for you, right?” Karina interrupts, hand still in between her legs, watching you shamelessly jerk yourself off. She sighs, “So original. I think you deserve more than that.” 
Uhm- well- okay, yeah. 
“What, too weird?” You ask right after, breathless, your shaft throbbing around your fingers a tad early for your taste. “Ouch. I get it. It’s fine.” 
“No, no, no,” Karina sighs, licking her lips. Her eyes shine through yours, a supernova unraveling. “I think we can settle with this. You fix me, I fix you. Deal?” 
Who’s to say that there was a chance Karina had the same vision as you? 
It’s a freeze-frame moment when the realization hits you for the first time. 
You’re seeing, but still having a tough time believing:
The sight of your cock being swallowed up by her tits, tongue laving at the tip, her hands compressing her chest inwards so that she can hold you there - focus on her lips and listen to the soft moans all lovely and adoring. Your poor cock: leaking with precum mixed with spit and when it’s all slicked up, you’ll put her on her back and make her press her breasts together, slip right back inside the heat and press into the friction. A gift from the heavens, you think. God, you’ll praise and worship them for as long as you live. 
“Shit,” you barely manage, rasping, like it’s some epiphany, as if this was new for her. “Karina, that’s incredible.” 
Her eyes dart at you, lashes flickering. The subtlety alone is near cute, even when her fingers dig into the skin of her tits, pinching at the nipples, tongue hanging out as some of the spit starts to drip over into the cleavage. 
She lowers her mouth right above the tip, seals it around your thick cockhead lightly. “Really?” 
You clench your jaw a little tighter, “God,” you huff, tensing up your hips for the thrust, fucking into the pressure, stare as she moves her tits downward to meet in the middle. “Fuck, yes.” 
“Don’t you suppose that this is good for me as well?” She then asks, dazed. 
“Why- fuck. Why the fuck are you asking me?” You rasp, tone gentle the next second. “Judging how hard you’re pressing, I hope that you won’t let that go to your head.” Karina’s face lights up with excitement, tilts her head down into your hand, smirking as she hears the stable breathing. Her brown eyes - like her tits - are soft, easy; her plump bottom lip sweeps the head of your cock once again. 
She hums as she stares. Chuckles at the mere buck of your hips. Cute. 
“Hmmm, maybe I will,” she accepts. 
You scoff, mixed with relief and with disbelief because Karina’s tits are fucking unreal and to top it all off she’s sucking you off while your cock is held captive between them; though you’re stuck in a hypnosis and that’s the only sensible reaction of Karina that you could give her. “Karina,” you’re seething, “Jesus, Karina-” 
She moves her chest in this side-to-side motion, wiggling her tits like it’s some shameless dance move, proposing. “What’s the matter, baby? All that waiting and you can’t hold it together?” She asks, arms moving inward with her elbows at the bottom line - her drool dribbling down her tongue and into her cleavage in this messy waterfall. “You wanna cum in between my fucking tits, hm? Right in the middle? Paint them white over these red marks you kissed all over-” 
The sound ripping from your throat is an indication of the first layer of your inner wall being broken down. It’s just for show, but she’s taking it literally. She has a knack for talking filthy. Here you are losing it. Her hand holds you by the base and pumps you - rubs your balls for good measure, pushing, soothing, encouraging - and Karina’s eyes shimmer while her mouth shifts, something more shrewd, vicious. 
“You fit so well here,” she gasps, “God, I wonder how it’ll feel when you stuff up my tiny pussy-” 
Your head falls back and you’re swearing. Clenching your fists while your elbows start to slide back. 
“Karina,” you say again, because it’s easier to speak than think. “I’m- I’m,” 
Her lips pout, shaking her head, disappointed. “No. Don’t,” she sighs, “Don’t you dare,” she says next, “please, I want it inside, inside me - in my pretty little pussy, make me feel good, so full, want your - mmm,” you see her eyes close, biting her lip at the idea, whining, “you’ve dreamt of cumming inside me - breeding me, knocking me up for fun-” 
This girl is something else - good on you to match up to her craziness - and you’re biting your lip along with her as well, watching her hand slip under to her clit while she holds your dick between her tits, thighs shaking as she spreads - it’s ingrained into your head, the sight of it. She wants you to breed her, or whatever is remotely close to cumming on her - and Karina will keep on asking for your input of all these things she’s projecting, leave it up to interpretation before acting on it. You’ve never thought you’d see yourself be like this, let alone have Karina act this way all for you. You’ll keep pondering about it long after you’ve had your fill - or her having her fill - it could go both ways for all you know. 
Still. The girl keeps moving. 
“Oh my fuck,” you slip out, different sayings all preaching the same message, “that feels so fucking incredible,” which isn’t enough to describe the present state of things nor does it fulfill the bare minimum of everything either but for Karina’s ego and with her smirk - because that’s how it always was, just feels right. 
“You’ve never said anything about it, but you’re obsessed,” Karina taunts. “This mouth, these tits, they’re all for you - you could have me any way you want,” she keeps her hands moving while her head sways from one end to the other, sighing as her tongue stops at her teeth. “Look at you. I’ve never seen you so desperate to fuck a slut like me and claim her like she’s yours.” 
She presses inward with her tits. You feel your shaft swell even harder. A lift up, then a drop. Repeat. You’re tensing every muscle in your waist as hard as you can. 
“So?” You ask weakly, huffing. “So what, okay- shit. You-” 
Next thing you do is pick up right where you left off. Thrusting into her tits and feel your pace fluctuate to the point that it’s gotten so dirty as you’d imagine fucking her cunt could get, hips smacking skin on skin, into the softness of her breasts, wet sounds and gasps let out through every slap. 
“Right there, cum,” she mutters, irises foggy, straight out of your wet dreams, leaning her neck forward with her jaw hung open so that you can fuck yourself straight into her mouth, look down at your wobbling hips - throbbing and twitching as she drinks in the sight of you nearing that edge. “Fuck my tits like that, cum all over them, wanna feel, wanna hear how much you want me.” 
You say her name, or at least try to. The sound incoherent, broken, and apologetic; just downright humbling. The best thing you can do is make good on your part. Your cock is so deep in between her tits, the messy slick and warmth enveloping you wholly; fingers doing the little adjustments, a rough measure of how her pussy will wreck your dick later - dragging her breasts across the sensitive edges, the lightest touch of her fingers at the top, flicking the underside. It’s too much, too fast, too- 
“God, Karina-” 
“Oooh,” she beams, ecstatic. “Oh my god.” 
Soon you feel yourself spilling everything in the tightest spot of her breasts, mouth slacking as she watches in awe of your cock tensing and erupting your release all over the skin of her chest, her throat. Her chest heaves along with the pulsing, shaking her tits soon after, gently pumping out the remnants of white, squeezing. It’s unholy what she’s doing, eyes glassy and spit slathered across the space, face flushed and chin dripping with your cum; and she lowers herself to where your shaft is in line with her face, pursing her lips - like some money shot - full and getting an appetizer of what’s to come. You ghost your hand to the back of her head, cautiously - the hand between her legs treats to her clit, the other wrapped around your shaft and smacking your dick on her cheek, so it’s a definite premonition come to life: her on her knees and dreamily staring at your dick while she’s soaking up your white hot mess. 
“Aww, well that’s too bad. Couldn’t hold it at the first go. Shame on you,” mutters Karina, grinning and letting out a soft pitiful laugh. 
“You’re fucking insane.” 
“And what are you gonna do about it?” she asks, patting your ass in comfort. She massages her tits right in front of you, the webbing of cum spread across the inner parts of her mounds, in the gap of the heavy curves. “I can’t believe you- God, you came so fucking much.” 
You keep on staring while you’re fighting for the last bits of consciousness left - like if you hit the canvas in a boxing match, and your coach helped you up with counting: one, two, three, four, up, up, up, up; you’ll try to focus on the breathing, take your time, continue to blink while the rest of the world fades out from your vision and all that’s there in the middle is Karina’s sluttiest form fully culminated. That’s all you see: the right angles and curves of her breasts, well sculpted and detailed that you’ll keep observing in reverence. It’s so much to process, the first glance at the scene of the crime, all over Karina, unreal and cute and just- perfect. You’re not dreaming, the nerves in your body overloaded with stimulation to properly conclude that Karina was purely made as a vessel to take limitless loads of cum in and all over her outright beautiful body. 
“Well-” You sigh heavily, a weight lifted off your shoulders. “I’m kinda- ugh. Yeah.” 
But Karina still has you on the palms of her hands, deciding what’s enough on her terms. 
Because one second later, she spreads your legs more and slides her tongue up from your balls and upwards against the underside, then to the tip. She giggles at the feeling of you snapping to attention from the contact, and you sharply inhale at the sensation, ready for more. 
“You should know that you have to deal with me the right way,” adds Karina. “This was just the start.” She then glances down to her fingertips, picking up the cum smeared all over her chest and licks it up, eyes fixated on you with interest while alternating the treatment of her lips to her fingers, to your cock. “Still speechless about my performance?” 
You roll your eyes, flaring your nostrils. “Do you do this with every guy you get in bed with?” 
Karina laughs at that, batting her lashes. “Not really. But if you’re gonna shut me up, make sure it’s with your cock.” 
Her brows light up in excitement when rake your fingers into her hair, pull her back, at the point where she surprisingly gasps. You flick her hand away from your cock, notice her mouth drop lower, expecting you to do as she says: plug one hole up for the time being. 
You don’t do that, though. Your mouth finds hers and it fills the space for the moment. 
A moment where the intimacy reaches the sweetest. In all the right ways, you’re defying her wishes through actions rather than words. Karina forces a high-pitched hum down your throat, clashing her teeth into your face, catching your lip in the midst, pulling. You’re sure she wants to see you hurt - she’s already done that - two can play at that game. 
Your hands slot themselves at the slides of her face, gripping, eager mouth keeping you focused on the task at hand, and it’s second nature when her arms wrap around your neck, lifting her up from the floor. She won’t stop giggling, laughing; the noises a spell of their own, cursing you - an unsaid promise that you’ll give to her even when you’re flipping her around back on the mattress. 
The weight of you two creaks the springs when Karina rolls herself over and finds herself on top of you. You feel her slick folds glide up your leg, the stickiness mixing in with your skin and tainting. Her conquest doesn’t stop there, until she settles the heat over your cock, grinding, the ache alone enough to make you writhe in wanting. 
She flips her head over to one side, breaking the kiss, falling back down for more. Her eyes and yours are both out of focus, panting heavily. She’s fucking unbelievable, a red herring that you had all the wrong ideas for, finally seeing the truest form of her nature being awakened. 
You say something remotely close to your thoughts. 
She looks at you, astounded. 
Sighs. 
You feel her hand cradle your head tenderly. 
Meets your forehead with hers and smiles. 
Tracing a finger to your jaw, pinching the skin soothingly. 
“You’re going to ruin me,” Karina whispers, kissing your cheek. “I hoped it was you to be the last one I try my luck with.” 
You close your eyes because it’s the truth.
Your hand shoots up for the headboard behind you, gripping. She helps grab the other arm and pins them together, captures your lips once more and it’s too intoxicating to fight against. She continues to grind her hips against yours, feel the heat of her cunt and her folds glide above you.
The teasing is insufferable, feeling her warmth wash you over. 
“I’ve waited long enough.” 
The words are at the tip of your tongue, but they won’t come out. 
“I’ve always wanted it to be you,” she carries on, softly laughing as you’re crumbling underneath her weight. “And now, you- and this cock, is mine. Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.” 
She dips your cock in, sinking, slowly, the inches getting swallowed up in increments. You moan in response, kissing her collarbone. You’ve imagined what it would be like, prayed that one day you’d get the glorious chance to be inside this wonderful heat. It’s something else, like a long reward that you’ve sought out for but it's the fact that Karina’s tight cunt is practically making you choke where you could die and be happy with it. 
“Jesus fuck,” you groan, the fibers in your body tensing. She just sighs, hoists her hips up, and sinks back down again. 
She does it again - and again, and again. The movement alone; painstakingly slow and increasing with every passing second. Her hips seizing yours in place and fucking you like that’s all she’s meant for; like this opportunity was a once-in-a-lifetime moment and she’s going to take every advantage of it. As if she feared you telling her to forget everything about tonight and move on like it’s normal. 
“It’s not even fair, the way you make me feel,” sighs Karina, yielding to the pleasure, head dipping down. “I should’ve known - fuck, I really should’ve known. Why didn’t we do this sooner?” 
Your hips match hers in a dance, unable to answer. Unwilling to, actually. 
Because you’d rather save the words for later and live in the present, her body consuming you at a rate that shouldn’t be humanly possible. The way she rides on top of you, head and shoulders and arms invading every corner of your being, reigning fire. It’s so fucking good - her cunt, the warmth, the feeling, it’s impossible to think straight and there’s a part of you in the corner of your mind that’s jumping for joy. Walls tearing down from within, freeing you. 
If you’re not careful, it’ll be even worse when you’re guzzling your cum into her tight pussy before she even has had the chance to fuck your cock properly. She’s holding you hostage, bounding your hands with hers - a beautiful punishment to undertake. The moans and sighs alternate, complimenting one another as she continues to jut her hips forward and back - back and forward. “I hate you,” she’s saying, “I hate how you had the fucking guts to not let me try.” 
God, it really is pathetic for you. Karina figuratively digging her fingers into every nook and cranny of your brain, making you want - want to lose it, to be desperate, to be the version of you that’s capable enough to go beat-for-beat with her. The groove of your index and thumb settle at her waist, picking up the pace, use the drag of her cunt across your cock, but Karina grasps your jaw, mouthing an ‘ah, ah, ah’ as a consequence for your eagerness. 
Slamming her ass back down, she chokes an utterance out of you, “Fucking- Karina-” 
And Karina hums, letting her lower half do the work. “What’s wrong?” she asks, all innocent and sweet that doesn’t cover her sinful act. Perfectly calculated in her head of how she’s working you up. “What are you gonna do? Fuck me?” 
She took the words right out of your mouth. 
She finally managed to break you. 
You’re not nice about it, either: breaking the little restraint from her hands, hooking your arms underneath her shoulders, turn her over and yank her hips back to yours. 
The gasps. You want more. 
Karina tests the waters again when she breaks free from your grasp, forcing you to push her down on the mattress by the head, claw your fingers into her scalp, raise her up to flush her waist and hold her mouth open, taking account of the newly formed arch in her back - the perfect fucking bell curve. 
She sighs again. Not in shock, no. In relief. Satisfied, ecstatic, excited, as if she’s finally getting what she wants - for you to have enough and put her in her place. “God, yes. Fuck yes. Fucking do it. Do it! C’mon-” 
You slip yourself inside and shut her up for a second, feel her walls clamp around your throbbing member. “Like this?” You ask, snarling into her ear cuff, pulling her by the hair where she won’t even complain about the pain. “Want me to be like this with you from now on?” 
“You have no idea,” Karina says, nodding frantically, the arch of her hips moving backward against you. “How much I needed this from you.” 
Pushing your buttons and limits is what she does best. 
So you grab her by the throat, give a sloppy placement of your mouth at the corner of her lips, forcing her to look up and back. The angle where your cock is embedded rips her apart at the first slam. You’re going to fuck her. You’re going to fuck her ruthlessly. Fuck her cunt so bad like you’ve always wanted to the day she accidentally flashed herself at you and the image of her figure burned into your memory. 
She keens when you bottom out completely, filling her up to the brim with your cock. Stokes coming along easier and easier as the claps of skin start to reverberate around the walls of your bedroom -  thrusting up into her cunt and not giving a fuck about the rest. 
Karina tugs at your hair, finding a place to hold herself together, hips stilling and moving and eventually freezing. You’re up to the plate now, dishing out the real work far better than her. 
You are going to break her. Pound her ass. Bounce her cunt all over your dick, listen to how her breaths shudder and choke in the stale air with every upstroke. Your mind is working double time - trying to figure out how much she can take, where are her sensitive spots and capitalize on the weak points. 
The hints are in her body, you take that into account. She takes in every inch with her cunt, eyes fluttering shut, sighing in complete adoration. Willing to let you pour every ounce of your being onto her; these feelings, these frustrations. A place where you can let your imaginations run wild, her body a sacred temple built to ruin, in all of the harmonious sounds that come out of her mouth, occasional screams to let you know what you’re doing is right. 
When she cradles the side of your head again, staring forward at the mirror placed behind your bed along the wall, she grins, watching you place a kiss along her throat, leaning her head back to deepen the angle, runs a hand over yours, treating itself to one of her tits. “Baby, you can never have enough of me.” 
That earns her a firm grasp of your arms, pulling her closer. She shouldn’t even be able to speak, let alone have this much fun. You push her down back on the bed, hands sliding down her waist, stopping at the indent of her hips, dragging your cock out and yanking her ass back in. “Do you ever fuck your girls like this?” 
“Are you always this talkative during sex?” 
“Not exactly,” her breath hitches when you bend over the swell of her ass, swipe your finger above her clit to tease. “I’m eager- ah, eager to see,” she bites down her moan when you spread her sopping pussy lips apart, feel her leak even more on your cock, “how far you’d go-” 
You’re getting there, that’s for sure. 
Now you’re wondering what else you can do with her hips up and knees spread wide. 
“Stay right there,” you say, pressing a hand down her spine to deepen the arch, her ass getting bigger at your waist, palm full of fine skin, “and let’s see.” 
Her fast shriek registers a second after you smack the surface, the sound mimicking the crack of lightning. 
You slap her ass, impale yourself back in, watch as your cock disappears from your view. 
Karina’s face dives into the sheets, muffling her scream. 
“Big mistake,” you growl, seeking your fingers into the roots of her hair, snatching. You spank her again. 
And again. 
And again. 
The punishment and reward: you smack her ass, fuck into her, feel her body blossom with heat and flushed with crimson; handfuls of sheets or pillows or anything that’s within reach. Her cunt gushes even more, the throaty moans hiccuping as her body convulses more because of the blowback, and she’s still smiling.
“God- oh my God,” Karina pants, fingers back between her legs as she throws her ass back now, completing the motion. “So forceful.” 
You cup the sides of her waist, press your fingers over the blotches of red, skin rippling each passing second your hips flush with hers. The sounds of the smacks and the gentle creaks of the bed are already erotic enough that the spanking in between is just the cherry on top. 
All that Karina has to do in this situation is to simply ride out the wave of pleasure, body slightly jaded through every firm impact of your cock weaving itself inside her cunt, the vice closing in every millisecond. 
“-so good. You’re so good,” spits Karina, eyes cinched shut; a sharp inhale when you reach that spot, body seizing. “K-keep using my cunt, just like that- wanna feel your dick ruck up inside-” 
You’re grasping at her neck, deepening the angle. You want to melt into her, to feel everything. To fill her mind up with nothing but just you. 
“You did this to me,” you grit, pulling her back on your cock; listen to her stutters for an answer. “This is all on you.” 
But she giggles, head swiveling forward and face first into the pillows, but her wailing still breaks through. She comes back up for air soon after. Whatever she can get, “The plan, baby,” she’s telling you, “It was all part of the plan. Always.” 
That twists your mind in more ways than one. Her mouth, her hands, her body, all within arm's reach. You grasp at her tit again, drive your cock back into her cunt, her moans inching up an octave, and the shimmer coming out of the corner of Karina’s eye gives you all the more reason to keep going. 
“I’ll break you until you’ve had enough,” she breathes out, and her face contorts to something remotely pained, “please, for the love of fuck- don’t stop bouncing my pussy on your- fuck!” 
It hits you when you’ve finally worked Karina to stop talking. Breathless. Heaving. You sigh out of rapture, the feeling washing over you like you got dunked in water. A new enlightenment fully realized - the full manifestation of her creation, and now she’s on the receiving end of it.  
You give her two more firm strokes inside her; drag yourself out and rub your tip over her folds. She wiggles her ass in response, tempting you. Having another fill as her cunt clenches your cock once more, slick soaking up your skin until the friction is almost seamless, siphoning every part of your being just for her. 
This angle is dangerous: the way her stomach is nearly flat, you find your bearings above her, pushing in, too deep, holding her by the hips, anchoring, knees apart and at an angle where they would be if she was kneeling on a pew. Instead, you grab one leg, then the other - get your palms full of her waist in supplication as the undersides of the peak of her thighs meet yours, curves rippling on impact, thrust your cock into her open cunt where you’re rubbing all of the spots at once, gliding in so easily where the pace alone really sets itself into place. Her hand tends to one of her tits, hopelessly keeping it in place while you’re hooking her back for that arch and cementing the motion as your own. The time of teasing and playfulness is over, as you’re chasing to make the aches in her body a problem and sever all the nerves in her system until you can visibly see her limbs shudder - fuck out a complaint from her lips to make you stop and not act so greedy about it; but then your mouth is back on her again, hoping to sedate her thoughts as you let your lower half keep up the work. 
Then you sigh something between the space of the lips, an undertone: “You like this, love?” 
A nod is the only response she can give you, mouth parted and unable to coherently say anything in particular, so grab her chin. 
She’s getting there. You know. You can tell. 
“This pretty little cunt, all for me, no?” 
Karina mouths a ‘fuck’, biting her lip immediately after. 
“I’ll use you in whatever way I want.” 
Her hand swoops over and presses your forehead against hers, whining in pure euphoria.
“Let me hear you,” you urge, hand moving up so you can close her mouth, lighten up on the pressure so that she speaks a bit more freely. “I want you to say it.” 
Karina locks onto your eyes, searching for the right words in your head, and you know she will- 
Because Karina knows that she’ll be good for you. Your perfect little fucktoy. A personal slut who’ll always let you have and you know this well enough since it’s taken you this long to finally see it. “Oh baby it’s all yours, it’s all yours, it’s all yours. I promise- I promise that it’s all yours and it’s no one else’s- I promise it’s only yours just keep fucking-” 
To say that your ego was inflated would be an understatement. But man, words can not describe how much you wanted her to scream it out at the top of her lungs. 
Your groaning matches hers in volume, the bedframe not too far off to scrape across the hardwood. You’re pretty sure that the springs will bounce along with your bodies as well. 
“So pretty,” you praise, kissing her. “I’m gonna have this cunt all to myself. Whenever. Wherever-” 
Karina’s head lolls back and up, clutching onto your neck for added support. Heaving as you’re fucking the air out of her and makes her voice have this raspy tone attached to it: “That’s cute. You won’t have to look very far now that there’ll be one room for us to share.” 
You pause, blinking. Your finger moves a wisp of her hair away from her face, her eyes widening and fulll with sparkles. Never in a million years, you’d find yourself to be in this position - inside of Karina - but here we are. No need to move fast when you’ve done the hard stuff already. 
“So what,” you say, picking up a stable pace in her cunt, saving the dissipating control where you can. What’s there to be left said when it’s already shown? “It’s bad news for you because I’m gonna have you every chance I can get.” 
“You wanna let the whole world know how rough you’re fucking me? Be my guest,” she tells you, palm braced to your waist and moving her hips in this body-roll motion, biting her lip as the entity of sin returns in her mind, taking over. 
“I’m too good for you,” continues Karina, light-hearted and giddy, as if she’s not trying to milk every bit of you into her fucking pussy. “And here I thought I knew everything about you.” 
She’s right about that. Fortunately, this is more than just a dream. This is reality. You have endless memories with her as it is, and you’re positive that you’re excited to create more of them with her. 
“I guess you could say this is one more secret kept away.” 
A hand to your face, gentle. Loving. “My handsome boy.” 
“Fuck you.” 
“You are.” Karina breathes with an airy laugh, voice getting hazier. Cock drunk and fucked out of her mind. It’s working. “So hot.” 
“Gonna talk?” 
“Fuck-” she then sighs, hissing, and the smirk fades from her face, something more warm, languid, laid back. Her mind is gone. “Fuck.” 
You nod and give her a smirk of approval. Proud of your latest curation. The girl that everyone wants, only wants you. The beauty in that exclusivity lifts a weight off your head, and you’re far inclined to accept it head-on. 
“How bad do you want me?” You ask, biting down a kiss to push some life into her. Tears welled up at the corners, letting her feel every inch where you could take it. 
“I should be asking you, how far are you gonna hold out for me?” Karina purrs. “I’ll give you what you want if you let go first.” She tells you, pulling her body upwards and shifting the limbs around before you find yourself sliding back into her where the angle is at her cunt’s hottest point. A spot where you’d never turn back on. 
The pressing of the crease at her knees, legs pushed up high. Your cock is so embedded and consumed by her pussy that you’re having trouble staying upright. 
She then says this mantra - a phrase said differently but its message is very clear: “I’m all yours,” she wails, “I’ll always be yours if you let me- fuck! Only let me have this cock all to myself.” 
It’s happened multiple times before in your life: being wrapped around her finger. But this- this takes the meaning to a whole new level. Her body claims you as its own and you’ll surrender to that discovery for as long as you walk on this earth. 
The strokes keep going, the mindnumbing sensation coming to its fated end - that blissful release and last bits of pent-up feelings of Karina; her cunt a glove, sheathing your cock perfectly with every thrust, clenching around your girth to pump you out. 
You’ve already laid the cards on the table a long time ago or- even now, when she’s seen you in the most vulnerable state, fucking into the mattress so deeply and loudly that you’re not even worried about the potential noise complaint coming from the neighbors. 
She’s calling out your name. Just your name. Nobody else’s. Telling you how to keep fucking her. Hard. Fuck her poor little cunt until you’ve dumped every last bit of your load in her and fill her until she’s leaking out white between her legs. 
“Baby, I can feel you throbbing. Are you gonna cum? Gonna cum so fucking much- Please, I want it. I need it. Just- fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-” 
She loses first. 
And my lord, she’s fucking wrecked. 
You bottom her out and hold her hips in place, cunt quivering and her toes curl and feet in the air, moving with what little mobility they have left because you’re pressing down the underside of her thighs, yelping and wailing and screaming to the point she might break the fucking glass on mirror and windows. 
“Baby. Baby, I can’t fucking move- you son of a bi-” 
Karina’s pussy squelches around your cock, a new layer of slick added to the mix of spit and precum. You pull out halfway and rub her clit at an inhuman rate, feel her liquid sputter out, hit some parts of your body, squirting. 
She’s squirting even more when you’re slapping the head of your cock across her pussy lips, watch her body spazz out and tense up almost like she’s having a seizure or going into shock, blabbering complete nonsense and you’re kissing her harshly on the fine column of her throat. 
You could care less, because all you just want to do is fuck Karina, feel the glide of her cunt become even smoother than before. Read into how her body responds to yours and the mess just gets even more filthier. The sounds- God, the fucking sounds. It’s a perfect harmony. 
The pace steadies with the beat of your heart, thrusting your cock into her cunt and keep her figure moving until she’s able to gather her thoughts, finding the right words along the teeth to where she says: “cum in me, fuck your cum into me,” and the sobs compliments her heaving. “Please, I want it. Give it to me. I wanna be full-” 
It lights a fire under your ass, every ounce of your being finally collapsing. 
You’re managing where you can; burying yourself in the deepest depth of Karina’s pussy, cumming in the hottest point - and the senses and nerves in your body are contracting and expanding in all the right places- 
Your body and Karina’s: finally becoming one. 
Your cock and lips are the sole sources of connection to her as she coos at the multitudes of cum filling her pussy up. 
The embodiment of perfection. The tightness. So snug. You can feel it. Every fiber of your being let out through your release and her small little hole - holding your cock through the pulsing, legs frozen as your arms slither to Karina’s back, exhaling so hard that you’re certain one of your lungs might break. 
“That’s fucking amazing, baby. Oh, baby, keep giving me your cum - I need- I need it, ah. God-” 
You could feel your vision start to blur in and out of blackness, her whimpers and soft moans a gentle sonata, soothing through your high as her fingers grazing across your skin is enough contact to course electricity through you. And you rest your head against hers, taking asylum in the space above her shoulder, hips slowing and breath racked with exhaustion. Her hand rubs against your lower back, massaging the last bits of cum deep while the rest of her body goes limp, sweat glistening all over her skin as if she got baptized, finally blessed with the afterglow. 
“So much cum,” she’s saying, over and over, a prayer in itself, “There’s so much cum in me.” 
You release the restraints of your hands from her body, pulling on her side until her legs start to tangle with yours, cock still wrapped around her pussy, unable to leave or pull out. Her thumb swipes across your eyebrow, tapping the temple. Internalizing the events that occurred just now, reeling away from the pure emotions and the mere point of it all. 
At last, you and her are both drained. Like you’ve gone twelve rounds with her. You’re willing to go one more, because she’ll want that too. 
You’re then combing Karina’s hair down, patting the back of her head while she leans into your chest cavity and showers your collarbones with kisses. She nestles her face deeper when you bring her closer, swooping the sheets from beneath until it covers both of you. 
It’s comforting. This new home. 
It’s everything. 
“Don’t sleep yet,” you whisper to her, kissing her forehead while her eyelids flutter lazily. 
Her head tilts. There’s a slight shake on the ends of her fingertips; she brings them close to her face. You gaze down to see her mouth try to form a few letters - a word - only say nothing at the end of it. 
“It was always you,” she breathes, the projection alone a new belief to instill. Your face shifts to something confused, thrown off. But you’ve repeated and reciprocated the same thing even though most of it was unrequited. “Part of me was worried for like- the longest time, and now-” 
You hush her, her body sinking more into your touch, the warmth encapsulating her like a cocoon. The aches soon settle in and you let the pillowed conversations flow to a more interesting topic. 
When the next morning comes around, your mind is doing its best job to make you succumb to the inner machinations of your visions. The effects of the alcohol still present - which explains the partial dizziness, though your memory is kept intact. Most of it feels a bit smudged, like the faint image of a mirage of some haven out in the blistering heat of the desert. Soon your eyes are filled with the endless plane of the ceiling above, and you feel a whole lot lighter- 
The weight pressing down on your arm was no more. 
You arch your back, feel the limited mobility in your lower half, and inhale deeply. 
A prop of your elbow betters your view; realizing the sheets were off your body, your legs slightly spread apart, feel the shocking tingle of nails scratch along your skin, crotch surprisingly warm - not to mention wet. 
Karina looks up with a neat pop off the head of your cock, an airy laugh passing through her lips, slides her tongue up the length before she carries on with bobbing her head between your legs, cock hardening in the heat of her mouth. 
“Jesus fuck-” 
You feel her hand wrap around you, grinning, biting down a patch of skin near the base. She pumps you once, maybe twice, and tilts her face sideways when she sees your jaw slack and lips salivating. 
Well. It's one hell of a way to say good morning. 
“Aw, did I scare you? Well, you better enjoy this because I won’t be waking you up like this unless I feel like it.” 
That’s how all things go, unfortunately. The ways Karina wants you to do these favors of hers.
Except now-
You can bet your ass that you’ll love every fucking second of it. 
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no-144444 · 5 months ago
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don’t embarrass me- l.norris
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summary: lando and you have a fight on NYE
pairing: lando norris x fem! reader
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You were angry. Every five seconds you had a friend asking if you and Lando had broken up, all because Maugi (one of Lando’s friends) was trying to make it look like she was with Lando. It was infuriating.
“You alright baby?” Lando whispered as he leant against you, the party already in full swing. You looked fabulous. Silver and gold for the new year. You looked like a million bucks. Yet you felt like a fraud. Every time you saw them together you felt yourself… shrink. Like you had to make room for their friendship. Whenever you’d try to talk to him about it, you were met with more questions than answers, and a lot of aggression.
You didn’t care anymore.
“I’m good,” you smiled. “You?”
“I’m great,” he smirked, pulling your waist into his. “You look fucking gorgeous,” he whispered, dotting kisses against your cheek.
You grinned. “Thanks baby.”
His grip tightened but over his shoulder you saw him. Oscar. Lando’s teammate. Lando’s friend. You had a plan, and you were going to make Lando pay for brushing you off.
“Wanna get out of here-?” Lando had started to speak, but he was cut off when you walked away, and straight into Oscar’s arms. He assumed after a little while, you’d come back. You didn’t. You and Oscar spent all of New Year’s Together, while Lando was stuck with Max and Pietra looking every part the perfect couple.
“Why are you sulking?” Max laughed, clapping Lando on the back.
“She’s gone off with Oscar,” he mumbled, looking up as he leant against the balcony railing.
“He is her best mate,” he pointed out. “Join the conversation, or at least hang off her like you usually do.”
He huffed. “She’s mad at me.”
“What did you do this time?” P asked.
“The whole Maugi thing kind of got to her, and when she’d ask me… I kind of brushed her off. She's been off for weeks.”
“So you fucked up?” Max sighed.
“I fucked up,” he nodded. “And now she’s ignoring me, and it’s 3 minutes to midnight.”
“She’ll let you be her New Year’s kiss, surely,” Max scoffed.
Lando nodded, deciding to go find you, but the uncertainty in his stomach had settled long ago.
He caught you from across the room, the absolute picture of beauty. Dancing haphazardly with Lily as Oscar held both your drinks, you danced, somehow looking somehow carefree and elegant at the same time. He smiled. The anxiety in his chest settled momentarily. You were still you. You were still his. You were just upset.
“It’s almost midnight,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, joining you in dancing as Lily excused herself to the bar. The red flashing lights and alcohol in both your systems made your dancing look a lot dirtier than it had intended to be, but alas, he just enjoyed feeling you close.
“Oh yeah?” You asked, turning around to him. “Finding Maugi anytime soon?”
He rolled his eyes. “You think I’d want her over you?”
“You don’t make it look any different,” you scoffed.
“Baby,” he smirked, practically laughing. “You’re the most perfect, incredible, kind, woman I have ever met. I love you. You’re my everything. I’ll admit when you came to me about it, I could’ve responded better, and I’m sorry. I was stressed about the way the media saw it, and I didn’t know how to respond to you. I’m sorry.”
You smirked. “That’s all I needed.”
He giggled, pulling you into him. How had he ever pulled you? He was such a loser when it came to you. He’d do anything.
“Do I get my midnight kiss?” He smiled, his cheeks blushing.
“You’re such a baby,” you chuckled as the timer counted down. You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Don’t ever embarrass me like you have, ever again.”
You pressed your lips to his and bit down on his bottom lip. You made him scared. Is it bad that made him hard?
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syoddeye · 5 months ago
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you scurry into the bookshop from the cold, the door slamming shut behind you with the breeze.
the warmth inside feels like a slap after the bitter chill, and your glasses immediately fog over, clouding your vision in a steamy blur. you pause, fumbling with your mittens, distracted by your own breath bouncing back at you behind your scarf, making it worse. you step forward without thinking.
and immediately regret it. your shoulder slams into something hard and solid, like a wall. except the wall shifts, and a deep voice hisses down at you.
“fuckin’—we in a rush? watch where you’re—”
“sorry!” you blurt out, flinching back.
the voice halts. just stops, snipped mid-sentence. you’re scrabbling to pull your mittens off now, fingers clumsy and frantic. the fog persists, blinding, smothering, your breath quickening and making the condensation worse.
“shit, shit, sorry—”
then a hand settles on your shoulder.
a low, rasping hehehe rattles from above. “can’t see a thing, can ya? ‘old still.”
you freeze, mittens half-off, mouth hanging open in protest as something dark moves toward your face.
“uh, what are you—oh, you don’t have to…”
a thumb drags black fabric gently over one of the lenses. the fog clears in a small oval, revealing part of the stranger’s face, his deep brown eyes. you try to crane your neck for a better look, but the hand on your shoulder shifts to your chin, steadying it.
“keep still.”
your mouth shuts and your pulse stutters. his thumb and forefinger pinch just firmly enough to hold your head in place. he clears the second lens, and when he withdraws the fabric, you finally see him.
he wears a thick, cloth mask, the loops disappearing beneath the edges of a matching hat. though most of his face is hidden, you notice the faint scar cutting across the end of one blond eyebrow, a few faded freckles dusting his forehead. the scarf around his neck hangs loose, one end caught in his hand, which he drops once he seems satisfied with his work.
“there,” he says, leaning back a fraction to examine you. his eyes crinkle at the edges, amused. he must be smiling. “look at those eyes.”
you blink up at him, and you’re hyper-aware of your own breathing. careful not to exhale too hard, in case you fog everything up again.
“thanks.”
his thumb, still resting lightly on your chin, moves in a small, absent circle. he hums, low in his throat, and then lets go.
“of course, sweet’eart.”
for a second, you just stand there. five seconds, maybe. you’re the one who breaks the silence by awkwardly stepping away.
“okay, yep, thanks again.” you say, words knocking into each other like you knocked into him.
you retreat further into the shop, yanking at your mittens until they’re off and stuffed into your pockets. your scarf is next, practically ripped from your neck, the heat of your own embarrassment prickling at your skin all over.
what just happened? should you have said something? made a point of how weird that was? because it was weird. right?
you circle the horror section three times before your heart rate evens out, but even then, you’re not really seeing the shelves. the titles run together, and your mind drifts back to him—his hand on your chin, the soft way he said sweetheart.
your glasses are clear, but you’re stuck in a haze.
simon was just supposed to kill time, having arrived arrived early to meet price. except now he’s going to be late, for the first time in ages, to a meeting with his captain.
it’s difficult to hide in a shop where he’s taller than most of the shelves, but he’s careful. doesn’t take much of an effort anyway, she’s preoccupied by the shelves of the horror section. not his preference, but he likes the twist. likes the view, too. the profile of her face, her hair, the way her jeans fit snugly over her arse.
smitten. that’s the word, he thinks. charmed, maybe. pretty, sweet four-eyes all dressed up in knitwear. she probably made them herself. seems the type. he wonders, absurdly, if she’d make him something. a sweater, maybe. something that actually fits his shoulders.
then she suddenly moved, pulling out her phone, and he buries his face in the cookbook he’s been pretending to read. thai recipes, apparently. he flips a page, wondering if she likes thai food. he could try making it.
his phone buzzes and for a second, one irrational second, he thinks it’s her. like she’s sent a message telepathically from across the shop. but no. it’s price, blunt as ever, asking where the fuck he is.
he looks up again, and she’s gone. just like that. his stomach drops, and he straightens instinctively, scanning the aisles. he can’t help it, he turns—
“so…you like thai food?”
he looks down and finds her at the next shelf over, smiling shyly. something about it. it slips through his ribs and gets comfortable.
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aly4khq · 6 months ago
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. · ˚✧ # GRAVITY'S GRACE!
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ׂ╰┈➤ WHO? — caleb from l&ds
ׂ╰┈➤ WHAT? — caleb's return took a few turns, and by a few i mean a freaky amount.
ׂ╰┈➤ WARNINGS? — angst to slight!fluff to smut to fluff || fighting, arguing, sědatives, fâinting, restraints, evol usage, kissing, èating ôut, p in v, dirty talk, bondage, slight spanking, sqúírting, grínding, màrking.
ׂ╰┈➤ WORD COUNT? — 3.1K (wowzers!)
ׂ╰┈➤ WRITER'S NOTE? — guys i'm sorry for being absent for so long!! christmas and new years kicked my ass. hope that i can reward you with a small oneshot about my bestie's return.
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❝ Did you honestly think I would always be the kindhearted boy in your childhood? ❞
He was back. You watched the house burst into flames and roar at you whilst blowing you away. The memories of that house now in the air, to forever be remembered. The necklace being the only thing to hold onto you, staying by your side no matter what happened.
Yet you don't believe it, you don't understand how the man himself can stand there in front of you with no signs of injury at all. His face wasn't weird...and neither was his body..so what's going on? Trying to touch him, your hands get stuck, makikg you spin your head to look behind you.
Shackles around your wrist, tightened by a weird blue jagged pattern which seemed nearly impossible to break out of. Gasping, you stared up at him, wondering why he'd ever tie you up...? He stared back at you, with a stare of absolute devastation and hurt.
"....No, stop it you died."
You stare around, bring the inner part of your mouth to try and help you snap back to reality. The pain only hurting the feelings more then intended, the thought of being perhaps hypnotised.
"I don't..."
You remember, stop lying, you always will.
-
"Since you're a grown up, I won't cover for you this time," Caleb teased, opening the door to your grandmother's house. You had both gone out in a small celebration for your return, it's been ages since you've visited your grandma and — especially — Caleb, your childhood friend.
It's been a long few years away, becoming a Deepspace Hunter and finding the time to go to your home house. As soon as you were given that opportunity, you took it without any doubt.
It was a full day of getting snacks, ordering food, walking around the city and watching the sun set together. Nostaglia filling the space in your mind the longer your hang out went. Caleb was his usual self; always cocky, teasing, mocking, yet also loving, caring and protective. He's been like that for ages, when he decided to become a pilot and have a future in airlines he got even worse.
Caleb was your closest friend, the person who you grew up with. And seeing him get so...protective when it came to that interaction in the alley made you second guess yourself. Was this really the Caleb you remember—
A deafening bang came from the right of to her body, the flames searing hot on your skin as the force of the explosion shoved you back with extreme force. "Ah!" You shrieked, falling onto the hard concrete. Nothing but concern and worry swimming in your blood as your eyes locked onto the burning house.
No sign of Grandma, no sign of Caleb. The house was burning, your memories following, your family leaving you behind to carry the burden of grief.
With a desperate grasp, you held the necklace to your chest, instantly feeling some sort of relief despite the pain surrounding your heart.
Come back, Caleb.
-
Come back Caleb....Come back Caleb....
"Come back, Caleb." You murmured, reliving that moment with tears rolling in your shocked eyes. A gloved hand reaches under your chin, lifting your stressed face upwards to stare into your eyes. It's him. No it isn't. Yes it is—
Caleb tensed at your word, the shackles loosening as you took this opportunity to remove yourself from them. You snapped your hands off of the shackles. Nearly instantly, you got up. Your hands pushed his chest as your other fist threw itself to his face. Unluckily, he managed to catch on.
His hand grabbed yours as his leg went out to kick your legs. You jumped, using your leg to strike his thigh, making Caleb let out a small groan. He took out a small baton, using the item to hit your face. A small squeak escaped your mouth as your hair draped over your face. Caleb hesitated but he did it.
Rapidly, he grabbed your hands and slammed you onto the wall to the side of the two of you. His tall frame hovering over you with nothing but anger in his eyes, he looked devilish. Yet you were fuming, betrayed and heartbroken while you continued to fight.
"Get off of me!" You yelled, your eyes watering with tears as you tried to fight whatever magic you were being controlled with. "Get off! Help! Stop!!—"
Suddenly, a familiar feeling went over your body as you saw a blue hue around you. You were so overwhelmed with emotions. Your breathing slowing down as the nostaglia feeling entered your body, you couldn't help but mumble to yourself. "What the fuck...what the—"
"What, do you not recognise me?" Caleb spoke back, his voice deepened from the last time you even heard his voice. His presence was so intimidated yet so comforting, you missed your family. You really did but the sense of unease was all that he gave you.
The tension nearly instantly deescalated, a look of understand and relaxation fighting its way to Caleb's face as he looked down at your slowly-forming traumatised face. 'Come on Caleb,' he scolded himself, 'don't scare the girl. She's traumatised.'
"You need to hear me out." He started but didn't get far before you started to fight against his evol. He couldn't help just let out a small laugh and the fact that you couldn't do anything.
"Fine, we'll have it your way."
Caleb grabbed a small needle from his inner pocket of his uniform, examining the liquid inside the tube with a focused eye. Ignoring your squirms and loud yells of begging and pleaded, he flicked the top of the needle before turning to you with a sorry gaze.
"Stay still," He ordered, his firm, big hand grasping your arm as the other hand inserted the needle and let the sedative enter your body. As you screamed and cried for him to let you go, he let out a few coos and sorrys. The cold feeling of a suspicious liquid entered your bloodstream, filling you with an uncomfortable sensation.
As soon as he finished, he removed the tube and used his finger to wipe away the blood.
The sedative worked nearly instantly, making your brain all mushy. With an unhealthy amount of fatigue building, you held onto his shoulder, trying to ground yourself against the feeling inside of you.
You began to slowly collapse into his arms, the mysterious liquid making you body turn weak with every few seconds. First your legs, then your arms, then your torso. It was a horrible feeling, like you were slowly dying. "What are...you...doing—"
"Shhh...just relax. I've got you." Caleb reassures, kneeling down with you as your body feel weak to the medicine. His hands holding you so tight that you were sure to not fall away from his grip once again. His eyes closed as he held your hand gently, his soft lips by your ear as he whispered.
"I'll be here to make you feel okay...I'll be here to give you protection, I'll be here to shield you from criminals...I'll be here to make this right again,"
His pinky finger interlocked with yours tightly, an unspoken promise.
"I promise."
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When you woke up, the argument that rose was nothing that you've ever think could happen with your possible kidnapper and childhood best friend. What kind of Reddit post is this? You obviously were agitated by this — the person you've grieved and cried over for 6 months had apparently been alive all this time and was never hurt in the first place. How rude.
"Get me out of me Caleb! I don't want to be here with you alone." You snapped back, keeping a good distance between the two of you. He was dressed in a simple jumper with a familiar logo on it, matching trousers and boots. He glared at you, analysing your body from his position before closing his eyes and sighing.
"You're not going anywhere, I won't let you." His tone was rough yet it held possession, heavy possession. His arms were crossed agaisnt his chest and you could see the tension between his muscles and his jumper. Even the thick material was fighting to rip, his outline was so...arousing?
"I am." With a turn of your body, you ran towards the door with purpose. And you didn't stop running until you heard footsteps behind you. A hand grabbed your wrists and turned you around, one hand around your waist. The other hand went to your chin, softly rising your head to stare into the eyes of — surprise surprise — Caleb.
"Listen...I won't have you suffer because of me twice. I learnt my lesson the first time and I won't have them force me to make you suffer another time. Why can't you understand me?" His voice was quiet but also demanding, a sense of worry on his intimidating tone. "What else do you want me to say?"
"I want you to stop lying." You replied, your voice lowering in volume. Caleb sighed, his cologne strong as he held you closer to him. "I love you okay? I'll tell you everything just let me make things alright first."
"...I..." You scoffed, turning your head. "I don't believe you."
There was a few beats of silence before you heard a small chuckle escape his mouth, his breath on your neck. "Allow me to make you."
Slowly, his lips latched onto yours, so gentle that it surprised you. His other hand holding the back of your head softly as he used his evol to lock the door. Backing you guys up, the back of your thighs hit the soft mattress of Caleb's bed, leading you to fall over with Caleb hovering above you.
Yet the kiss never ended, your mouths moving at a fast speed as you savoured in his presence. His hands were quick, moving your head to kiss your deeper. His hips gently grinding into your mid section as he groaned into your mouth. After a few seconds, you finally pulled away, barely taking a breath before Caleb indulges you in another passionate kiss.
"...I need you..." He spoke through breaths and kisses, his mouth all over your face and neck. "...I promise...I'll explain everything once I know myself..."
Caleb slowly undresses the clothes he recent put on your body, his hand frantic whilst removing the buttons and gently pulling the shirt off. He work quickly, taking off your shorts and underwear at the same time. Caleb stares at you before lowering down to his knees, his strong hand wrapped around your thighs.
"Stay still," He demanded, feeling your legs moving. With no hesitation, Caleb latches his mouth onto your cunt, his tongue licking up and down your folds with precision. He messily made out with your pussy, groaning into your folds and savouring the taste.
Caleb's thumb moved from your thighs to your clit, rubbing soft circles onto it. You squirmed, trying to crawl away from his greed. Your hand grasping the bedsheets as you pulled away.
As soon as he saw the slightest bit of movement, he stopped you, staring up at you with a lustful gaze, slightly panting. "You better stay there before I make you stay there." His warning was small yet it held enough of a threat to keep you still — for now at least. Caleb continued to relentlessly eat you out, his tongue circling your clit in a quick succession.
"Ahh! Caleb! Please—wait! I haven't..." You let out a few pants, throwing your head back as your back met the mattress once again. Your legs rising as Caleb followed you, grinding his hips into the bed like an animal in heat. He groaned, his tongue flicking against your sensitive hole.
"Caleb! I'm gonna!—Fuck..! Slow down..!!" You begged onto deaf ears, Caleb increasing his speed. He wanted you to cum on his mouth, to release whatever stress you have onto him right now. "Cum," He breathed out, "cum on my tongue, you slut."
You gasped, finally releasing yourself onto his tongue. Your eyes closed as your hands found leverage in his hair, gripping tightly. Caleb let out a small "Fuck..." slurping up your slick with a desperate need. His hands tightened his grip on your thighs, huge hands squeezing and massaging the soft flesh of your thighs.
In less than a second, he was up, desperately pulling removing his tie. He He removed his shirt, seductively sliding his belt through the loops and removing his trousers. Caleb grabbed your shoulder, pushing you onto your stomach with a kiss on your back. You felt a smooth material go over your wrists, tying your arms behind your back in a secure grip. His tie.
"...Caleb you freak..." You murmured, a small amount of shock on your face which soon tuned to pleasure when you felt him line up his dick to your entrance. Your eyes opened as you felt the sheer thickness of his cock on your pussy. You tried look behind you and see what he was doing yet a firm unseen force held your head forward, "I warned you."
Caleb pressed his hips against yours, instantly filling you with that huge cock of his. The sudden feeling of him so far inside of you made you breathless, squirming against his tie. Your eyes opened wide, your mouth letting out a loud moan as he held your hips down with his hands.
"...You better brace yourself, I'm not holding back anymore." A hard thrust followed after, striking you deep and fast. His speed was merciless, his hips hitting yours with a heavy force. Your mouth couldn't even form a sentence, just mumbles and chopped words escaping from the pleasure of the man behind you.
Caleb didn't even think about the consequences of his actions, just having you close to him made him loose control. His hands pushed you back onto his cock, matching with his already slapping hips. The sounds of skin slapping echoed in your ears as you moaned out for him.
"You filthy girl...this pussy was just waiting for me to breed it hm? Is that what you want? Is that what you fucking want?" Caleb's hand struck your left ass cheek, his hand grasping your skin on impact. He spread open your cheeks, spitting where you were connected to make it even more wet for him. You nodded, moaning, "Yes C-Caleb! Yessss!!! Oh my!—" You cried, trying to figure out how to deal with this large amount of feelings in your lower half.
Caleb slapped your flesh once more, not holding back on his strength at all. Your brown skin nearly instantly blooming with a soft red hue. "So gorgeous...I won't let you go, not again."
Caleb lowered to your face, still thrusting into your wet cunt with purpose. "You can't bring yourself to hate me with every finer being in your body...can't you?" He mocked, staring at your fucked out face with an evil grin. You tried to answer, but you were apparently too late in his eyes.
Another slap landed on your right cheek, and another followed — harder than the last. "Answer me," He ordered, holding your hip. With struggle, you hummed back, "Hmm! I d-don't h-hate you! Oh Caleb, I can't do this..." With a few more thrusts, Caleb could feel you tightening around his hefty cock.
He let out a soft hiss, kissing your neck with gentle intention. "You gonna cum?" He asked with a softer tone, his hands rubbing up and down your sides.
Nodding, your mouth hung heavy. "I'm cumming..! I'm cumming Caleb!"
That intense feeling of letting that growing pleasure in your stomach go was so satisfying. Your moans loud as you stuffed your head into the pillows below you. Your legs shook as your orgasm rode out, Caleb still thrusting into your wet, sloppy pussy. He soon came after you, filling you up with a mixture of both you and his cum. The feeling of him filling you was enough to make you squirm more, whining at the feeling of being full.
After a few beats of silence, Caleb slapped your backside one more, rubbing the sore skin afterwards. "I'll rather hear you as well as feel you next time...but I'll let you go this time round."
You laid there, fucked out and fatigued whilst Caleb stood up, his dick slipping out of your cunt. "You're absolutely gorgeous..."
Caleb pressed soft kisses to your body, rubbing the bruises on your hips and untying your wrists. You felt that tension on your head go as he removed his evol, his hands rubbing your neck.
"I love you...I promise you that." He whispered. His whole intimidating and aggressive demeanour had disappeared somehow. But when you looked into his eyes, you finally saw him. That same boy from your childhood. Your best friend had sprung back to life despite all the trouble you both had gone through.
You replied, to the best of your standards, "...Pinky...?" Your voice was soft and also vulnerable, melting Caleb's heart.
He let out a small chuckle, holding your face towards him and locking it in with a kiss. "Pinky."
Caleb gave you a passionate kiss on the lips, holding your face with gentle fingers. He pulled away after a short time, laughing at your marked body. You let out a small giggle, "I didn't know you had that in you Caleb..."
"Neither did I, until I met you."
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© aly4khq, do not plagiarise, translate or copy any of my work. 12/01/25
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senascoop · 5 months ago
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ꣀ꣒ WHEN YOU’RE ALL THAT THEY WANT IN THIS LIFE . . 엔하이펜 ☁︎
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pairing, enhypen × afab reader . . . genre, scenario(s), comfort core . . . word count, 200-300 each . . . [LIBRARY]
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. , LEE HEESEUNG ☁︎ 이희승 !
“It’s okay, I can do this.” You mutter, determination laced in your voice as you struggle to pull your top over your head. The door is shut, the room quiet except for your frustrated sighs. Your fractured hand, wrapped tightly in a cast, throbs slightly, but the real pain isn’t physical. It’s the creeping frustration, the helplessness, the way twenty minutes have passed and you’re still stuck, half-dressed, fingers trembling. It’s just a bra. A simple t-shirt. But why does it feel impossible? Your throat tightens. Useless. The word sits heavy on your tongue, bitter and cruel.
“Baby, I’m coming in.” Heeseung’s voice is gentle, the door creaking open before you can protest. His gaze lands on your bare back, and though he can’t see your face, he knows—you’re frowning, lips pursed, probably on the verge of tears. “It’s just me, hmm?” His voice is soft as he steps forward, hands finding your shoulders. He carefully turns you to face him, and even as warmth creeps up his neck, he forces himself to focus—on you, not the vulnerability of your exposed skin. Heeseung swallows, picking up your bra with careful fingers. But his heart clenches when he finally sees your teary eyes. “What’s wrong?” He asks, voice laced with concern.
You look down, shame curling in your stomach. “I feel so useless… I can’t even dress myself properly. My hand keeps getting in the way.” His brows knit together as he helps you clasp the bra, then effortlessly pulls the t-shirt over your head. His touch is careful, deliberate—like he’s afraid you might break further. When he’s done, Heeseung cups your cheeks, thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Stop thinking that,” he murmurs. “This is temporary, hmm? But what’s permanent is my love for you.” His gaze holds yours, steady and full of warmth—reminding you that even when you feel weak, he sees you as nothing less than strong.
. , PARK JONGSEONG ☁︎ 박종성 !
You carefully mixed the ingredients, your hands coated in the strong, pungent scent of kimchi as you worked beside your future mother-in-law. You had always wanted to learn how to make it, especially for Jay. You smiled to yourself, imagining how he’d react to your homemade kimchi one day, even if you still weren’t sure when that "someday" would be. “It’s easy once you get the hang of it.” You muttered to yourself as you worked, following her instructions. From the doorway, you could hear Jay laughing lightly, chatting with his mom about something—probably teasing each other, the way they always did.
It made your heart warm to see them getting along so easily, and you couldn’t help but think about how one day, this might be your family too. Jay caught your eye and smiled, his eyes softening as he watched you. You knew the look—the one that said he could picture a future with you, one where you were part of his world, just as you were becoming part of his family. “I’m so glad you’re learning to make this,” Jay said, his voice low, as he came closer. He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, his warmth a reminder of how much he loved you. “You know,” he continued, his tone teasing, “I think my mom’s kimchi is the best. But your version might be a close second.” You laughed softly. “Well, we’ll see about that.”
. , SIM JAEYUN ☁︎ 심재윤 !
You sighed, staring at the crumpled bills in your wallet. The numbers weren’t adding up—again. How were pads this expensive? Weren’t they a necessity? You let out a frustrated groan, popping another piece of chocolate into your mouth. Maybe that was part of the problem too. You could survive without snacks, but during that time of the month? Impossible. You rested your head on the kitchen counter, already dreading the rest of the month.
“My money is your money. Stop calculating.” Jake’s voice startled you. You turned to see him standing at the bedroom door, arms crossed, eyes still half-lidded from sleep. His hair was messy, his shirt slightly wrinkled, but his smirk was sharp, full of amusement. “Yeah, but—” Before you could finish, he was behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing his chest against your back. His chin rested on your shoulder as he swayed you slightly, the warmth of his body making it hard to focus on why this still didn’t feel right.
“But what?” he murmured. “You do know I plan on marrying you, right?” Your breath hitched. “Jake—” “Nope. No arguments.” He spun you around effortlessly, hands cupping your cheeks. His thumbs brushed over your skin, his grin softening into something more sincere. “That means my money is already yours, dummy.” You opened your mouth to protest, but he only tapped your lips. “Nope. Not hearing it.” You huffed. “You’re impossible.” “And you love me for it.” He kissed your forehead before stepping back. “Now, should we go get you more chocolate too?” Damn him and his boyfriend privileges.
. , PARK SUNGHOON ☁︎ 박성훈 !
“Where is he…” you mumble, scanning the crowd anxiously. Sunghoon isn’t good with places like this—too many people, too much noise. You had only left for a few minutes to grab snacks, but now, the once calm area had become packed with people swarming to see a panda. Then you spot him. He’s stiff, standing awkwardly near a signpost, his hands clenched into nervous fists. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, his shoulders rising slightly with tension. His gaze flickers around like he’s calculating an escape route, but his eyes widen the moment they land on you. You don’t waste a second, weaving through the bodies until you reach him.
The second your hand finds his, he flinches—but when he realizes it’s you, his grip tightens. Relief washes over his face as you quickly guide him out of the crowd. The moment you’re in the clear, you pull him into a hug. “I’m so sorry, you got stuck because of me.” Sunghoon shakes his head, still catching his breath. “It’s not your fault. I mean… I was the one who got hungry.” He mutters, trying to act tough, but the pink dusting his cheeks gives him away. Then, in a quieter voice, he mumbles, “But I’m glad it was you who found me. Otherwise, I’d look like a lost kid.” You grin, poking his flushed cheek. “You kinda already did.” “Shut up.” He groans, but the way he squeezes your hand says otherwise.
. , KIM SUNOO ☁︎ 김수누 !
You leaned your head against Sunoo’s shoulder, wincing slightly as the throbbing in your foot made itself known. You never imagined that something so small could cause this much trouble. The pain wasn’t unbearable, but it made it impossible to walk without cringing. Despite your attempts to be independent, Sunoo had insisted on helping, his voice filled with concern. “I told you to be careful.” His tone was teasing but laced with care. You sighed, not wanting to feel helpless. “I was careful! It just… happened.” He chuckled, a soft, comforting sound, as he gently adjusted his hold around you. Even though you were leaning heavily against him, you couldn’t help but notice how strong he was—certainly stronger than you’d expected.
Sunoo was never the bulky type; he wasn’t exactly a gym freak, and you loved him just the way he was. Still, the way he effortlessly lifted you into his arms made you pause. “Are you sure you’re not secretly training for a superhero role?” You teased, letting your voice be light despite the discomfort. “Maybe.” He smirked down at you, carrying you up the stairs with ease. “But my real superpower is making sure you’re always taken care of.” You laughed softly, your heart fluttering at his words. “Well, you’re doing a great job.” He winked, eyes sparkling with affection. “I know.” As he laid you down gently on the bed, his touch lingering on your side, you couldn’t help but feel thankful—not just for his strength, but for the way he always knew how to make you feel safe, even when life threw you off balance.
. , YANG JUNGWON ☁︎ 양정원 !
You lay in bed, limbs heavy, the fever wrapping around you like an unbearable weight. Every inch of your body ached, exhaustion pulling at your consciousness. You didn’t remember when exactly your eyes had closed, only that the loneliness of being sick made the world feel quieter, emptier. When you woke up, it wasn’t silence that greeted you—it was a familiar voice, soft yet laced with worry. “You scared me when you didn’t pick up your phone.” Your vision blurred slightly as you tried to focus.
Jungwon stood beside your bed, a warm cloth in his hand, dabbing your forehead. In his other hand was a bowl of soup, the steam curling in the air. You blinked, groggy, then turned to your phone on the nightstand. Ten missed calls. Your throat felt dry. “How’d you know?” Jungwon sighed, dipping the spoon into the soup before carefully bringing it to your lips. “Because you always pick up. And when you don’t, it means something’s wrong.” The first sip was surprisingly sweet, warming your throat, easing the discomfort in your chest.
You hummed in appreciation, and a small, satisfied smile tugged at Jungwon’s lips. “This is… really good,” you murmured, barely above a whisper. “Of course it is. I made it,” he said, feigning smugness before his expression softened. His hand came up to your cheek, thumb brushing over your warm skin. “Good thing, though… your temperature feels normal now.” His touch, gentle and reassuring, made something inside you melt. “Jungwon…” “Shh.” He shook his head. “No need to thank me. Taking care of you is kinda my full-time job.” You let out a tired chuckle. “Oh? Do you get paid for this?” He grinned. “Yeah. Your love is enough.”
. , NISHIMURA RIKI ☁︎ 리키 !
“Don’t stop,” Riki mumbles, voice laced with exhaustion as your fingers glide through his soft hair. His head rests on your chest, his body melting into yours as he finally lets himself be taken care of—for once. You feel the tension leave his shoulders with every stroke, his breathing slowing, steadying. “It feels like my stress is fading away…” he murmurs, his words barely above a whisper. You let out a soft chuckle, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of his head. “Then just stay like this,” you say, shifting slightly before tossing a leg over his, pulling him impossibly closer. He lets out a content sigh, nuzzling deeper into you, the warmth between you two making the rest of the world disappear. “Hmmpf…” he hums, voice drowsy, before mumbling, “I can’t wait to live with you forever.”
His words come out so naturally, like a thought slipping past his lips before he can even second-guess it. Your heart stutters. “Wouldn’t you get annoyed?” you tease, though there’s a genuine question hidden underneath. “Like those couples who grow tired of each other?” Riki immediately lifts his head, eyes blinking up at you in pure offense before peppering your face with soft, lazy kisses—your cheeks, your nose, your lips. “Never,” he mumbles against your skin, before sighing and resting his head back against your chest, fingers curling into your shirt. You smile as he wraps his arms around you, holding you like you’re his whole world. Because, in truth, you are.
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© senascoop | tumblr
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enwoso · 14 days ago
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right swipe, right time | alessia russo
-> based on this request🩷
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masterlist
alessia didn't mean to download tinder.
well... okay. technically, she did. but it was through pure peer pressure. elite-level peer pressure.
it was one of those rare, peaceful nights on england camp. no media obligations. no early morning session. just music, snacks, and eight girls crammed into one hotel room in matching lionesses training hoodies, flopped on each other's beds with face masks and football socks still on.
"admit it," ella said, sipping from a bottle of lucozade. "you're hopeless. you haven't even looked at anyone since—what, 2021 when you got with that girl in-?"
"oi," alessia replied, shoving a pillow at her hoping the rest of the sentence wouldn't follow. "not everyone needs a tinder girlfriend and a backup date."
"i need to have a backup," ella scoffed. "just let us be your wing women."
chloe popped her head up from the floor. "you, though, less? you're like a nun with abs."
"excuse me?"
"i'm just saying, you've got biceps and absolutely no one to appreciate them. it's tragic really."
the teasing escalated until ella snatched alessia's phone, cackling. within minutes, the group was huddled around it, swiping through profiles with ruthless commentary.
then chloe stopped. "wait. wait. look at her."
the girl on the screen had sun-warmed skin, a long sleek ponytail with a silver chain around her neck and a smile like it came easy.
the profile read:
y/n, 26.
📍aussie in london
dog mum, football, coffee, beach, sarcasm. swipe right if you can deal with my accent😉
alessia blinked. "she's australian?"
"even better," leah said, not even looking up from her phone. "less commitment, more fun." ella laughed and swiped right before alessia could protest.
it was a match. you messaged first.
you: ‘so... you're the type who let her friends swipe for her?’
alessia: ‘and who told you that??’
you: ‘you did. in your bio. it says not my idea.’
alessia: ‘touché.’
you: ‘how do you feel about a flat white and great company.’
you were clever. funny, but not in the exhausting ‘trying-too-hard’ way. you admitted your accent made ‘no’ sound like ‘naw,’ were fluent in football slang props to having a football mad brother and dad growing up, and had some pretty strong opinions about oat milk.
on the second day you sent a photo of your dog - a tan mutt with ridiculous ears, one permanently flopped sideways.
you: ‘this is roo. he's 40% kangaroo, 60% drama queen.’
alessia: ‘did you really name your dog after a kangaroo?’
you: ‘duh what else am i supposed to name the most aussie thing i've owned while here in london?’
alessia laughed so hard she nearly dropped her phone.
you and alessia talked for hours. that night. the next day. the next. alessia didn't want to jinx it, but something about you stuck in her head.
so when you casually said on facetime, "i know a place that makes coffee almost as good as back home. want to judge it together?", alessia couldn't stop herself before she said yes.
you arranged to meet just outside of st albans, outside a quiet café nestled between a vinyl shop and a bookstore that always smelled like cedar. the place had one of those wood-paneled signs and hanging plants framing the doorway.
you were already there when alessia arrived — leaning on the railing, sunglasses tucked onto the top of your head, wearing black jeans, a red nike hoodie with a white tee poking out from underneath the hoodie making you look so effortlessly put together.
and you brought roo. a worn blue leash in one hand as roo sat obediently at your side with his tongue lolling out like he owned the street.
"so this is the infamous roo?" alessia asked as she crouched down to scratch behind his ear with a wide grin.
you grinned cheekily, "he wanted to see if you were worth my time."
"and?"
"jury's out, depends on how good your coffee order is"
inside, you and alessia sat at a corner table by the window, roo laid under the table, head on your foot like a sleepy chaperon.
the cafe was cozy, a little too warm with soft music playing and the smell of fresh espresso lingering in the air as the conversation flowed as if they'd known each other longer than a few days.
the two of you talked football, you had played through your youth before switching to the more fitness route of personal trainer. talked music types. favourite food. best goals.
alessia recounted her childhood to you about growing up with two older brothers who tackled her in the garden until she toughened up. you had similar instead yours was more squabbles with your brother about whose turn it was to chose what to watch on the tv.
the two of you laughed, a lot and alessia found herself more relaxed than she had felt in ages.
after coffee turned into a walk through the park, roo trotting between the two of you like he belonged to you and alessia. when you both stoped on a quiet bench, the city loud and buzzing behind them. you gently nudged alessia's shoulder.
"you've got a great laugh," you said, you voice a little softer now - not flirtatious, not teasing. just honest.
alessia blinked, caught off guard a little. "that's random."
you shrugged, but there was a flicker of something more vulnerable in your eyes. "just been thinking it all afternoon. every time you've laughed, i've wanted to hear it again. i dunno. it's like.. it sounds a little like home, even when nothing else here does."
that brought alessia up short — in the best way. her pulse fluttered a little. the wind tugged at a loose strand of hair near her cheek, and you reached out instinctively, brushing it back gently with the back of your hand.
"and," you added, gaze holding hers, "i-i really want to kiss you."
alessia didn't say anything at first. she just stared at you — at the slight flush on your cheeks, the careful tension in your posture, the way your thumb brushed against her own jeans like you were grounding herself.
"i thought you'd never say it," alessia said quietly almost whispering. you smiled, just barely.
alessia leaned in, slow and sure, her hand resting lightly on your arm. your faces hovered close, breath mingling in the space between the two of you. when your lips met, it wasn't fireworks or drama — it was warm, slow, and steady. like the start of something that didn't need to rush to prove itself.
alessia's lips were soft, patient — like she didn't want to take too much, just enough to say this is real.
you smiled into the kiss, nudging your nose against alessia's as she deepened it for just a heartbeat more, letting herself melt into the moment.
roo let out an exaggerated sigh at your feet, flopping down dramatically like he'd seen this all before.
you pulled back with a quiet laugh, your forehead resting lightly against alessia's. "well," you murmured, "guess you passed his test too."
alessia's grin was wide now. "should i be relieved or insulted that your dog is the final judge?"
"trust me," you said, brushing your thumb gently across alessia's hand, "he's got excellent taste."
fast forward a few weeks — text messages, video calls, one stolen weekend when you and alessia both had a spare weekend — and suddenly it was the champions league final.
most of alessia's teammates had someone in the crowd. family, partners, whole sections of fans in their shirts. alessia didn't expect anyone but her parents and family to be there.
so when alessia jogged out for warm-ups and caught a flash of that same sleek ponytail under a baseball cap, sitting behind the dugout with a massive arsenal flag scarf draped over your shoulders, alessia's heart just stopped.
you grinned at alessia from the stands and sent a message.
you: ‘go win it, star girl. i'm here. you've got this and you deserve this so much🏆’
the final whistle blew.
the roar hit first — a wave of noise so loud it felt like it shook the air itself. arsenal had done it. champions of europe. alessia stood frozen for a second, boots rooted to the grass, blinking up at the stadium lights through tears she hadn't realised were already falling.
a brutal, brilliant final. 90 minutes of fight. blood, grit, and everything they had left in them.
now there were arms around alessia — teammates screaming, laughing, crying — someone pouring champagne over her back, another dragging her into a pile-on. alessia laughed so hard she nearly dropped to her knees, adrenaline flooding her body until she was floating.
confetti exploded from the stands like rain. gold, silver, red — blinding under the floodlights. they lifted the trophy. alessia's medal felt heavy and strange around her neck, like it wasn't real yet.
somewhere in the middle of the chaos, she remembered to look toward the tunnel. and there you were.
you stood just past the barrier, half-hidden by stewards and staff, but alessia saw you instantly. somehow, even through the din, even with a stadium erupting around her, alessia's eyes found yours.
"you came?," alessia said breathlessly as she stumbled toward you, cheeks flushed, hair soaked, half-covered in sweat and sticky champagne. alessia's voice cracked on the last word.
you smiled — wide, proud, and maybe just a little teary yourself. "of course i did. you think i was gonna miss the love of my life win a champions league medal?"
alessia froze mid-step, slightly caught off guard. "you just said—"
you smirked, raising an eyebrow slightly . "too soon? i'm australian. we move fast."
alessia laughed, dazed and glowing, before pulling you into a quick, messy hug. a one you didn't want to end, at least not yet. but before either of you could say more, a voice rang out:
"well, well, well. whose this?"
chloe kelly. grinning like a madwoman, dragging leah along behind her, both still in full kit, cheeks streaked with war paint and joy.
leah narrowed her eyes. "wait hold up... this the aussie?"
"the tinder aussie?" chloe gasped. "you're real?!"
you, cool as ever, extended a hand, voice deadpan with just the right touch of theatricality.
"y/n. from sydney. like coffee, dogs, and a certain blonde striker who wears number 23."
chloe collapsed into giggles so violent she almost dropped her phone. "she's perfect. and you've been hiding her! wait till i tell ella about this!"
alessia groaned, trying to tuck herself partially behind you. "can everyone not make this a thing?"
"too late," leah declared, already snapping a photo. "group chat is getting this in two minutes. tooney is gonna have a field day!"
you leaned toward alessia's ear, your voice low and warm beneath the chaos. "i'm stealing you in five minutes. you've earned my full attention and unlimited kisses for the night and maybe the rest of eternity!"
alessia turned to face you, her medal bumping softly against her chest. her eyes were tired and shining. "only if i get the right side of the bed."
you grinned. "done. whatever you wish, with my hoodie on the side"
and then, right there, in front of teammates, staff, her family, and 60,000 still-cheering fans — you kissed her. it wasn't rushed. it wasn't shy. it was the kind of kiss that told everyone watching: this is real.
alessia leaned into it, one hand finding the hem of your coat, the other curled into your hoodie, grounding herself. you tasted like mint and stadium air and something steadier, something safe.
when you finally pulled back, alessia's smile was soft and breathless. for once — champagne in her hair, confetti in her eyelashes, teammates heckling in the background — alessia didn't care about the noise, the cameras, or what tomorrow would bring.
for once, the chaos was absolutely worth it. alessia had swiped right for the right person. her right person
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stylesispunk · 26 days ago
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The days of you and I | part 1
Jackson!Joel Miller x fem!reader
series masterlist | next chapter
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Summary: After Joel’s near-death, you stay by his side, refusing to leave him behind. You both confront the weight of what’s been done and what it means to still have each other for now.
w.c: 4,5k
warnings: angst, mentions of murder and revenge, emotional trauma, grief trauma, survivor's guilt, discussion of death and loss. It contains spoilers from season 2 of the last of us. No proofreading because, you know.
Note: Remember this story is a sequel of this one shot "What remains of us" or you can ignore it and keep reading this one haha.
A/N: Okay, hello. This is a new Joel series because we love Joel here, and he is alive and recovering. This series will have angst, and the topics followed throughout the story will hold onto the path of healing after a traumatic event for the characters. I already have the end for this series, so everything will lead to it. I hope you like it and stay here to read it. Reblogs are really important, and I appreciate them. I'm gonna be out for a days because I have to put an end to the semester before winter break and do my teacher duties.
Also, I created an AO3 account, and I'll be posting fics there too from now on.
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The hospital room was very quiet. With that eerie absence of sound that you could feel penetrating your bones, damaging the inside of your body with a pain that pierced your body, seeped into your soul, and oppressed your heart.
Joel still woke up to that silence, as if was chocking him to death and he had decided he have had enough of it.  to the distant hush of an early morning, and a world that carried on without him. The sharp sting in his ribs reminded him he was still alive, though some days, he wondered what for.
His eyes opened slow, the weight behind them too heavy to lift at once. The ceiling looked the same as it had for the past week, wooden beams, a single hanging light. He’d spent more hours staring at it than sleeping. The painkillers dulled the sharp edges, but nothing softened the hollow inside his chest.
And you were still there.
Your silhouette sat by the window, curled into the old chair like you belonged there. As if you were stuck. A book half-read on your lap, a cup of cold tea nearby, and that same tired crease between your brows you probably didn’t know you had. You looked so small in the pale dawn light, so goddamn stubborn.
He should’ve been glad. Grateful you hadn’t left.
But this morning, something cracked inside him.
It wasn’t relief that filled him. It was grief.
His bones were still aching, his legs dumbed under the cover. He didn’t feel like a man no more, but as a lifeless lump lying in bed.
And you deserved better than this version of him, this half-broken thing stitched together by other people’s hands, carrying the weight of mistakes that couldn’t be undone. Joel wasn’t the man you met. Wasn’t the one who held you like you were the only good thing left in the world.
And seeing you here, still choosing him, hurt worse than any wound that other girl that beat him almost to death had left behind.
He swallowed hard, voice rough and unused.
“You don’t need to stay here all the time, you know?”
The words came out more bitter than he meant them to, tasting like rust and regret.
Your head turned, soft eyes finding his. That damn look, the one that exactly saw right through him, the one that made him feel like a man again for a moment.
And for a second, Joel wished you’d leave.
Because it would be easier than losing you piece by piece like this.
You smiled, small but steady, like you always did when you noticed he was awake. That damn smile, it cut through him every time.
“Took you long enough to wake up again,” you murmured, the softness in your voice brushing against the raw places in him he tried to keep buried. You crossed the room, moving to his side like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like it hadn’t been three weeks and one more of watching him drift in and out of fevered sleep and silence.
“You must be feeling tired,” you said, fingertips brushing through the strands of his hair, pushing them gently from his forehead.
Joel didn’t move, but his throat worked around a swallow. It wasn’t fair, you being so gentle. Wasn’t fair that after everything, you were still here, speaking to him like he was the man you remembered, not the one lying broken in that bed.
He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning, barely, into your touch before forcing himself to pull away. His jaw clenched.
Reality blurred at the edges; every breath thick with a kind of grief he didn’t know how to name. Time didn’t move right in this room. It stretched too long, like a cruel joke, dragging him through the sharp fragments of what he used to be.
He wasn’t mad.
He was devasted.
He felt ashamed of the man he was now.
He never experienced a physical pain like this. One that burned inside and out his body.
He hadn’t even noticed his hand was clenching around nothing.
How he could even be useful for this town now that he was gone. Everything left was limb laying on a bed with nothing left but a void consuming him as a whole.
He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, the coppery tang of blood grounding him for a second. His voice, when it came, was cracked and quiet.
“You shouldn’t… shouldn’t waste your time on me, darling.”
A bitter, broken kind of truth. But in his heart, he knew it would be worse than dying to watch you stay, wasting your life on him.
You didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull your hand away, even when his words hung heavy in the air between you like a noose. If anything, your fingers curled more firmly into his hair, a tender anchor to a man too lost to realize he was still here, still tethered.
“I’m not wasting anything,” you said softly, the words steady even as your throat threatened to close around them. “You’re here, Joel. That’s enough.”
He gave a ragged breath, like he wanted to laugh, wanted to scream, but all that came was a low, broken sound somewhere deep in his chest. His gaze dropped to the space between you — his hand, bruised and shaking, lying useless on the blanket.
“Don’t deserve you sitting here, watching this,” he muttered, voice hoarse, eyes hot though no tears came. Couldn’t remember the last time they had.
A long, aching silence stretched between you.
You could feel it, the war inside him. The part that needed you close, needed your touch, your voice, like it was the last thing tethering him to this side of the dark. And the other part, the one too proud, too broken, too wrecked by shame to let himself have it.
But you’d made your choice the moment he opened his eyes a week ago.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you said. Not a promise you made lightly in a world like this.
Joel closed his eyes again. He didn’t answer. But for the first time in days, his hand moved, slow, halting, to brush against yours.
“Did you… really take them all?” he rasped.
Your heart clenched, but you didn’t look away. Couldn’t.
You gave a small, steady nod.
He swallowed hard, the muscles in his jaw twitching. His gaze dropped for a second, his hand flexing weakly against the sheets.
“I don’t regret it,” you said at last, the words steady despite the ache in your chest. “No one deserves what they did to you.”
There was a storm behind Joel’s eyes, a thousand things he wanted to say, but his throat burned too much to let them out. Anger, grief, guilt, some twisted kind of gratitude. It tangled up inside him like barbed wire, tearing at every soft part he had left.
“You didn’t have to…” his voice broke, low and pained.
“I know,” you whispered. “But I would do it again.”
Your fingers brushed against his, and this time, his hand turned, weakly curling around yours. A tremble ran through him, and you felt it in your bones, the weight of his shame, the depth of his sorrow, and somewhere, buried beneath it, the fragile pulse of the man you knew still fighting to breathe.
But the love you felt for him, that was enough to send you into a spiral, where nothing else felt real but the desperate need to save him, the desperation of not losing him because that would have meant losing yourself that day.
Neither of you spoke for a while after that. The room was heavy with the things you didn’t need to say.
You didn’t look away from Joel, but you felt the shift in the room, the familiar presence of Tommy as he stepped in.
“Hey,” Tommy’s voice was rough, softer than usual, like he was afraid to break whatever fragile peace hung in the air. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
You lifted your head, your fingers gently slipping from Joel’s, though his hand lingered in the empty space you left behind.
Tommy gave a small nod toward you. “Gail’s waiting to see you. Said whenever you were ready.”
Your stomach twisted, a cold unease settling in your chest. You gave Joel one last look, brushing a thumb over his hand before pulling away completely.
“I’ll be back,” you whispered.
Joel didn’t answer. Just stared at the ceiling, eyes distant.
As you stepped out, Tommy caught your arm, just briefly, his hand firm but kind.
“I’ll stay,” he murmured. “Not gonna leave him alone.”
You gave him a grateful, weary nod and left, the door shutting quietly behind you.
The room felt emptier after you were gone. Joel let out a slow breath, eyes closing for a moment before shifting to glance at his brother.
“Gail?” Joel’s voice was rough, but clearer now. “She… she going to therapy with her?”
Tommy rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, sighing as he sank into the chair by the bed.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “Doctor says it might help. Been… hard for her since it happened. It isn’t just you carrying scars, brother.”
Joel looked away, his throat working around another swallow. The word therapy felt foreign in his mouth, like it belonged to a world he’d never stepped into, one too far gone for men like him.
Joel stayed quiet for a long time after Tommy spoke, the words circling in his head, refusing to settle. His gaze lingered on the window, on the way the morning light edged in like it didn’t belong here.
Then, rough and low, he broke the silence.
“Was she…” His voice caught, and he cleared his throat, hating the weakness there. “Was she hurt? When… when they brought me back?”
Tommy’s face shifted, the answer already written in his eyes before he spoke.
“Yeah,” he admitted softly. “She… she had some bruises. Took a hit to the side’a her face, couple more on her ribs. And there was a wound on her abdomen.”
Joel’s stomach turned, a cold, sinking dread washing over him.
“Abdomen?” he rasped, his hands curling weakly into fists against the blanket. “Christ.”
Tommy sighed, leaning his elbows on his knees, rubbing a hand over his face. “She didn’t give a damn about it. Wouldn’t let anybody touch her. Wouldn’t even let them clean her up ‘til you were stable. Sat right there in that chair covered in her own blood and yours, talking to you like you could hear her.”
He shook his head, a ghost of a sad, fond smile on his face.
“Would’ve fought off half the town if anyone tried to pull her out of here.”
Joel closed his eyes, the guilt pressing so heavy against his chest he thought it might crush him. A sharp breath rattled through him, his throat burning.
“Goddamn fool,” he muttered to himself, a tear he’d never admit to stinging behind his eye.
“She loves you, you know,” Tommy said quietly, watching his brother’s face. “Way you do her. There is no shame in letting people love you, Joel. Even if it hurts.”
Joel didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Not with the knot in his throat, not with the war inside his chest.
But his hand flexed again against the sheets reaching for something, for someone, perhaps you.
The silence thickened again, the kind of quiet that settled deep in your bones. Tommy stayed still, letting Joel sort through whatever storm was building behind those weary eyes.
Then Joel spoke, voice low and cracked, like gravel scraping out of his throat.
“She killed… all of ‘em.”
Tommy’s jaw tensed. He stared down at his hands, lacing his fingers together like it might steady him.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “Every last one of ‘em.”
Joel’s throat worked around a swallow, his gaze distant, unfocused, like he was seeing it happen even if he hadn’t been awake for it. Like he could feel the blood she spilled on his behalf soaking into his hands too.
“I should have been the one…” Joel’s voice broke at the edge, bitter and aching. “Should’ve finished it. Not her. Not—”
“She didn’t leave you a choice, Joel,” Tommy cut in quietly, but firm. “You were barely breathing. We didn’t know if you’d make it. You almost died on her arms that night.”
Joel gave a humorless, broken kind of laugh, but there was no light in it. Just sharp edges.
“And now what?” he muttered, a tear sliding down his temple he didn’t bother to wipe away. “She got their blood on her hands. Because of me.”
Tommy leaned forward; his voice steady in that way Joel remembered from years long gone, before the world turned to shit.
“She doesn’t regret it,” he said. “You know that. And neither would I.”
Joel’s eyes finally met his brother’s. A flicker of something there. Grief. Fury. Love. Loss.
“But I do,” Joel whispered. “I regret that she had to.”
Tommy swallowed hard, his throat bobbing.
“You’re not the only one with scars, brother,” he said softly.
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“I don’t regret it,” you said, voice steady, though your chest ached with the weight of it. “No one deserves what they did to Joel.”
Gail’s brow lifted, arms folding across her chest. “Murder?” she challenged; one word sharp enough to cut.
You didn’t blink. “Murder’s a simple act these days. Torture?” Your voice turned cold, almost unfamiliar even to yourself. “That’s another thing.”
A beat of heavy silence stretched between you.
“Murder is what Joel committed when he blew my husband’s head off,” Gail snapped, her voice brittle, laced with venom, old grief that still clung to her like a second skin.
“It’s not the same,” you bit out, shaking your head.
“It is,” Gail said, stepping closer. “The only difference is you had the chance to save him. If you hadn’t, Joel would be dead right now. And you’d be mourning him like I mourned mine.”
A fury you hadn’t felt since that day surged hot through your veins. You took a shaky breath, eyes narrowing.
“Fuck you,” you hissed. “You don’t know him. You don’t get to talk about him like that.”
Gail’s face didn’t move, but something in her gaze flickered, something dark, bitter, and quietly resigned.
“I know enough,” she murmured. “Enough to understand what kind of man survives in a world like this. And what kind of woman kills for him.”
You held her gaze, unflinching, the burn of unshed tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, though your face gave nothing away.
“I’m not sorry,” you whispered. “And I never will be.”
“You don’t get it,” you murmured, voice breaking just enough to betray the rawness beneath your fury. “My life would’ve ended.”
The words hung there, fragile and furious all at once.
You swallowed hard, fighting the tremor in your throat. “When they took him… when I saw what they did… there wasn’t a world left for me after that. So don’t stand there and talk about men surviving and women killing like you understand a goddamn thing about what it feels like to have your heart ripped out of your chest and left bleeding in the dirt. Because you’ve been behind these walls, safe, without knowing what it’s like out there.”
Gail’s brow twitched; her gaze steady but dull. “Do you think I haven’t lost people? Do you think grief makes you special?”
“I didn’t say that,” you shot back, your voice tight, shaking now. “I’m saying you didn’t see him. You didn’t watch them tear him apart. You didn’t hear the sounds he made. And you sure as hell didn’t have to put him back together.”
Her jaw clenched. “And now what? Do you think murder fix it?”
“I don’t care if it does or doesn’t,” you spat. “I care that they’ll never touch him again. That they won’t look at Ellie. That no one here will whisper about how Joel Miller should’ve died that day.”
Gail scoffed, a bitter sound. “And what about you? How can you carry this and walk around like it won’t eat you alive?”
“I don’t care,” you said, low, certain. “I care about him.
A beat of silence.
“You think that makes you strong?” Gail asked quietly.
“No,” you whispered. “It makes me his, as I’ve always been.”
Gail’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “You talk like that’s a badge of honor.”
You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. “It’s not. It’s a fact.”
She tilted her head, watching you like someone examining a wound too deep to close. “What if you drown into this?”
“I’ll try to save myself” you shrugged.
Another pause. The room felt too small, thick with old grief and new wounds, neither of you willing to be the one to walk away first.
“I loved Eugene so much” Gail said, her voice rough. “And when he died, it didn’t turn me into this.”
You met her eyes, unflinching. “But it made you bitter towards Joel.”
Gail’s jaw tightened, something sharp flickering in her gaze. “He made choices. Ones that cost people their lives. Good people. You act like he’s some goddamn martyr, but he isn’t.”
“And neither was Eugene,” you shot back, your voice low and steady. “Do you wanna talk about choices? Fine. Joel made his. I made mine. And you? You’ve been standing behind walls judging the rest of us ever since we arrived.
Her nostrils flared, a bitter breath leaving her. “I don’t have to like what this world turns people into.”
“Neither do I,” you murmured. “But I’ll fight for the one thing in it that still means something to me. That’s the difference between you and me, Gail. You buried your heart with Eugene. I’m not ready to bury mine.”
A long, heavy silence stretched between you, the old ache of loss clawing at both your throats. And for the first time, Gail didn’t have a sharp reply. She just looked away, jaw clenched, and you took your opening.
You didn’t say goodbye. You just left.
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You made your way back through the hallway, your steps slow, heavy, like every word from that conversation with Gail was still clinging to your skin. The air in Jackson felt colder somehow, like the whole town was holding its breath, waiting for something none of you could name.
As a town, you were still recovering from that day.
When you reached Joel’s door, you didn’t push it open right away.
You stood there, hand hovering by the frame, heart hammering against your ribs because, god, he was still here. Still breathing. Still alive.
And it didn’t matter how broken or battered he was, how much rage or guilt sat behind those tired eyes. It was him. And that was enough for you.
Inside, you heard the low murmur of his voice, raspy, weighted with a pain he never used to let anyone hear.
“But how is she really doing?”
“She’s… holding up,” Tommy answered, voice cautious. ”
Joel let out a rough, broken sound. Not quite a sigh, not quite a sob.
“If you ask me, you’re lucky she’s still here after what this world’s done to both of you.” Tommy said.
There was a pause, then Joel spoke again, softer this time, like he wasn’t sure he meant to say it out loud.
“I just… I don’t want her staying because she feels like she has to,” Joel muttered, his voice rough, almost cracking. “She should go, Tommy. Find something better. Hell, anyone better than… whatever I am now.”
Your stomach twisted. A sharp, cold ache settling beneath your ribs. You stayed frozen at the doorway, your hand tightening around the frame, every part of you aching. You didn’t mean to listen, but it was too late. The words were already carving themselves into your chest.
“She’s not here out of obligation.” Tommy said, his tone harder than before. “What would you do if you were her?”
Another pause.
Joel let out a humorless, ragged chuckle, and it hurt to hear it. “It’s not fair.”
“But she gets to decide what’s fair,” Tommy shot back. “And so far, she has decided it’s you.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, blinking fast against the burn in your eyes. Your heart hammered in your chest so loud you were sure they’d hear it.
You needed one more second to pull yourself together. To bury the hurt his words left behind, not because you doubted him, but because you knew where they came from. The same place you’d been sitting in since the day you saw him bleeding out in the dirt.
You swallowed down the knot in your throat, forcing your face into something steady, or close enough to pass for it. Then, with a breath you weren’t sure reached your lungs, you pushed the door open.
“Hey,” you said softly.
Both their heads turned. Joel’s eyes landed on you first, and for a split second, something in them broke open. A flicker of guilt, sorrow, and something heavier, like he knew you’d heard more than you were meant to.
But you gave him a small, careful smile, pretending the sting behind your eyes wasn’t there. Pretending your heart wasn’t in pieces on the floor between you both.
Tommy cleared his throat, glancing between the two of you. “I, uh — I’ll give you a minute.” He patted Joel’s shoulder, murmured something you couldn’t catch, and brushed past you on his way out.
The door clicked shut.
Silence stretched thin in the room, heavy like storm air. Joel shifted uncomfortably on the bed, his hand twitching against the blanket. He opened his mouth, then shut it again.
You crossed the room, sitting down on the edge of the mattress by his side. Close, but not quite touching.
“I was thinking…” you began, “I could ask the doctor if you can leave the hospital and go back home. We surely need to make some changes there with the bed and—”
 “Stop it.” He cut you off, his voice rough but firm. “I’m not going anywhere right now.”
You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden sharpness. “Joel—”
“No.” He shook his head, eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite name. “Not until I’m ready. And right now, I’m not ready to face that.”
The weight in his tone pinned you still. You wanted to argue, to tell him that staying there wasn’t helping him heal, but the raw edge in his voice stopped you.
Instead, you just nodded slowly. “Okay,” you said softly.
He didn’t answer, just closed his eyes, the tension in his jaw slowly easing into something like resignation.
You settled into the chair beside his bed, not bearing the closeness anymore, the quiet between you thick but familiar. Your fingers absentmindedly traced the worn edge of his sleeve, as if hoping to stitch together the frayed pieces of him with nothing but touch.
Joel’s breath was shallow, uneven, and you could feel the weight of everything he wasn’t saying pressing down on the room. The man you knew, the one who’d fought through hell and back was here, but buried beneath layers of pain and doubt.
“I’m scared,” he finally muttered, voice rough and low. “Not of dying... of what’s left after.”
Your heart clenched. “You’re not alone in that,” you whispered. “You know that.”
“What you did—” he began “I didn’t deserve to be saved, baby.”
“I made my choice.” You replied, eyes watering.
Joel’s gaze dropped to your trembling hands, then back up to your face, searching.
“I’m broken,” he said quietly, voice cracking. “Not the same man I was before.”
You shook your head gently, swallowing the lump in your throat. “You’re still him,” you insisted, voice firm but tender. “Wounded, maybe. Scared, sure. But still you. And I’m still here.”
A long pause stretched between you, filled only by the faint rhythm of his labored breathing.
Joel’s eyes glistened, a shadow moving through them as he let out a shaky breath.
“What you did… it’ll haunt you,” he murmured, voice low and rough like gravel. “Same way Salt Lake haunts me. What I did to those Fireflies… what I took from Ellie. Thought I was saving her. Thought it was worth whatever price.” He swallowed hard, jaw trembling. “But it never leaves you. Never lets you forget. Look what they did to me.”
You didn’t flinch. You leaned in, your hand finding his cheek, thumb brushing against the rough line of his beard.
“No,” you said softly, steady. “It won’t haunt me, Joel.”
He blinked, as if the words knocked something loose inside him.
“Because I know what we do,” you continued, voice trembling but certain, “when we love someone enough to tear the world apart for them. I know what it means to save the person who’s your whole heart. And I’ll carry it. All of it. And I won’t regret a single thing.”
His eyes closed, a tear slipping down his temple, and for the first time in too long, he didn’t look like a ghost of himself. He looked like Joel.
“Goddamn you,” he whispered hoarsely. “I don’t deserve you.”
“I’m not letting you go,” you said, leaning your forehead to his.
His breath hitched at the sound of your voice so close, your warmth grounding him in a way nothing else could.
“Baby…” he rasped, like it hurt to say it, like it was both a confession and a plea.
You hushed him gently, your hand brushing through his hair, your forehead still pressed to his.
“It’s gonna take time to heal,” you whispered. “I know that. I’m not asking you to be okay tomorrow, Joel. Or next week. Or even next year. I just need you here. With me. However, you can manage.”
His fingers, still weak, clung to yours like a lifeline. His voice cracked as he spoke again, rough and small.
“I won’t be able to protect you.” You felt it in the way his words splintered under the weight of his shame, the jagged edges of the man he used to be catching against what was left. His eyes searched yours, desperate and hollow all at once.
“I won’t be able to protect you,” he repeated, voice breaking like a man confessing to a sin he could never undo as he closed his eyes. “Not like before. Not the way I should do.”
You swallowed hard, a tear finally slipping free, tracing down your cheek as you gripped his hand tighter, like you could anchor him to this moment, to you.
“You don’t have to,” you whispered, voice trembling but certain. “You protected me for so long, Joel. Longer than anyone else ever did. It’s my turn now. I don’t need a gun in your hand to feel safe. I just need you. That’s it. I just need to feel the beating of your heart under my hand to know you’re still breathing with me.”
His throat worked around a choked sound, his other hand weakly lifting as if it wanted to touch you but couldn’t quite make it, so you guided it to your cheek, holding it there like it was the most precious thing in the world because that’s how it felt.
“I’m still yours,” you whispered against his palm. “Always. However, you come back to me.”
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postmoe · 4 months ago
Note
I find it attractive of a beta or alpha get turned into an omega if they get fucked to much. So what about yandere alpha geshu lin x beta/alpha male reader x yandere alpha jiyan. Or yandere Mydei x beta/alpha male Reader x yandere alpha Phainon. Reader getting turned into an omega so they can keep him all to themselves and maybe baby trap him 🤭.
dude i have so many beta fantasies it's not even funny. thank you for this opportunity.
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non-con, abo, male reader, beta -> omega reader,
.
It was always the three of you; Phainon, Mydei, (Y/n). You went through training together, fought the hardest battles together, everyone revered you like you were unstoppable.
Well, everyone respected you in a passive/aggressive way because you were covered in the musk of two supreme alphas. Unfortunately for you, in the womb, you never grew to the next stage from being a beta.
Betas were pretty rare now, they started off as the dominant second gender, but as time grew so did the power of evolution. Everyone starts off in the womb as a beta, then months down the line you unlock your social status. Sometimes, you just get stuck as the runt. There have been few cases of people opening their second gender later in life, though only within a very specific fate of events.
It's not all bad. Apparently, Mydei's and Phainon's scent was so extreme that a lot of people couldn't stand near them for a certain amount of time. Alpha's get antsy, compliment or aggressive. Omegas have gone into heat on the spot, rolling over motionless as their hormones take over. Now, they're pretty good at controlling their smell, or so everyone says.
It never bothered you to begin with, your nose not suited to judge others. You couldn't read emotions if it wasn't present on their face, which in this day and age is more of a talent than anything; at least, that's what Phainon says to make you feel better.
For a beta to get this far in life is pretty astonishing. You realise you had a lot of help from your two friends. They've been able to sniff you out when you're in danger, or their scent that lingers on your clothes is enough to stop any intelligent bandit or monster. However, even when you're feeling down about it, even when the world criticizes you for 'using' two alphas to your advantage, they both have been there to keep you reeled in.
"Why do you even bother trying to lie to us," Mydei huffs, crossing his arms over his puffed out chest, "You have a smell, too. It's not like we don't know what you're feeling."
"That's unfair," you sigh, shoulders slumping, "Maybe I just don't want to talk about it, ever think of that?"
Phainon nods, his arms coming to drape over your shoulders from behind, rubbing his cheek against yours, "Everyone is allowed to have their secrets."
You roll your eyes, going back to polishing your sword with the rag while he lounges against you, "It's not even a secret, just the usual shit." You go silent for a moment, feeling their eyes burn holes into for more information. It should have been common knowledge by now that you won't get out of anything from them, so you gently place your sword down groan, "Fine! I walked past one of your fan groups today. An omega was saying how I was only holding back your true potential, that with me on the battlefield then you can't go all out."
Both of them opened their mouths to speak, you held up your hand to zip them shut.
"And before you say anything; yes, I know that I'm strong too. Yes, I know I can fight. Yes, I know they're just 'jealous' that I get to hang around you." You can't make eye contact with either of them, knowing that you might just crack if you do, "... It doesn't always help. I'm okay with that, though. This is the life I chose and I can deal with all the shit thrown my way."
Phainon buried his face in your neck, sniffling into one of your more sensitive parts, the scent glands. You shivered from the contact, he didn't seem to mind as he practically cried, "You're so strong, (Y/n)! But you know, you still have to take care of your mental health, too. I think you should stay away from those people for a while."
Mydei stood from his spot on the grass and walked over, ruffling your hair with his hand before dragging it down your face and to trace your neck, "We haven't been around because of the recent attacks, so our scent is waning from you. Here, we'll ward them off."
You shook your head out of their grip and rolled to the side, away from them, "I don't need you to scare anyone away by smothering me. I think your scent only makes them more mad."
"It's natural biology for an alpha to cover what's theirs in their smell, you can't just tell us to stop," Phainon argues, shrugging like it's the most obvious thing.
With a laugh, you stand and pick up your sword, "Since when am I yours?"
They both silently looked to each other, communicating in a language you would never understand. Mydei tells you, "You've been our beta longer than you've been alone."
"Yep~" Phainon teases, "Should have thought about that before you became our friend."
Yeah, right. One day these two will find their omegas, they'll create a beautiful family and you can be the cool, beta uncle that showers the kids in annoying gifts to rile up their parents. "Sure, whatever," you dismiss, now taking on an offensive stance, "So, we sparring or what?"
...
Storm season is fast approaching in this part of the land. You three had been sent out patrol the far, outer lands on a 'boys' camping trip'. The trek made you sweaty, the days humid and the nights cold, yet you didn't stop until you reached an open cave near the top of the mountain.
Forests surround you, rushing rivers and falls heard in the distance, and the sounds of insects chirping were drowning your ears. You had abandoned your shirt long ago, rolling yourself in insect repellent that did well to make your two companions scrunch up their noses in distaste.
As you set down the heavy bags in the cave, the sun setting in the distance, you noticed some faded, rock drawings on the walls. Walking up to them, you see crude images of stick figure deaths, a chimera with little hearts around it and a spurting dick. Phainon placed his hand on your shoulder, "Mydei drew the penis."
You both look over to see him skulling his sack of water, giving you both the middle finger. You purse your lips, "Even though I've known you for so long, it's always weird to see such a childish side of you."
After setting up camp, you realise how much you may have missed when you weren't able to accompany them on missions. This place is gorgeous, and they only tell tales of greater environments, it left you feeling a sense of awe and a pang of sadness. When they laugh together, bicker, playfully shove at each other, you can see it the way everyone else sees it.
Two, great alphas Mydei and Phainon - plus you. Little, ol' beta you.
It's nothing to get worked up over. Not a big deal, not an issue at all. You notice they've stopped talking and are looking at you with concern. Fuck. Why are you having this crisis now of all times? They can definitely smell you, they know what you're feeling and they're expecting an answer.
You smile at them widely, "Sorry, I just got lost in a daydream." Can they smell when you lie, too? If so, they speak nothing of it.
...
Being able to swim in such beautiful, clean water was a luxury you didn't know you needed. The baths and streams around Okhema were amazing, there's no doubt about it. Hot springs sent from natural sources, lotions and soaps created from the best ingredients, but this... This was something altogether new.
The water was a cold that made your muscles relax, the flavour refreshing and dare you say, curative. The sound was a delightful white noise of rushing water and splashing ripples from either of you or the fish that swim by.
On the shore, Phainon was the last to disrobe, the three of you deciding to skinny dip as a fun, good morning. You greet him with a smile as he resurfaces from bombing into the water, shaking your face of stray droplets, "Are you sure it's alright for us all to be here? I really think one of us should keep watch at the cave."
He lays on his back, closing his eyes while he floats around you, "Don't stress, there are others at points around the outer city. Someone is always watching from one direction or another."
"I see... I guess I'm just wor-" your voice is cut off as your ankle is suddenly grabbed and you're yanked down under the surface. You see the blurry image of Mydei, the red tattooed lines on his skin the main stand out for the fuzzy, underwater alpha.
The two of you duke it out - poorly - until you both resurface and you're gasping for air. He huffs out a breath of his own, hiding any semblance of exhaustion, "You're going to need to fight better than that if you want to get on our level."
As if coming to your rescue, Phainon swims over to him, "Oh, please, as if it's normal for someone to be capable of fighting under water." He then winks to you before shoving the blonde's head down, effectively drowning him out.
The three of you relax around the falls, floating idly in the water side-by-side. You think you could fall asleep, except your nose twitches at an interesting smell. You've smelt it before, very faintly and only when they really push it. What can be excruciatingly stunning to others, you only get a whiff of as a beta; the smell of these alphas.
Mydei and Phainon are a rare sort, extremely strong and capable of power beyond mosts comprehension. A few people are rare like that, some omegas even being too intoxicating for the outside world. It's a pleasant smell, to you, something you not-so-secretly indulge in whenever you get the chance. It also makes you feel slightly more normal.
You wade over and gently rest your head on the upper part of Mydei's stomach, closing your eyes and sighing happily, "I don't get why people can't be around you guys if you're too strong. I like your smell."
Phainon playfully pouts at you choosing Mydei, coming over to join you and rest his head on his chest. He inhales the Kremnoan's scent, smiling serenely, "Omega's and Alpha's never really stop developing their senses until their mid 30's. The older you get, even smells like perfumes can become too much, let alone the emotions of someone with tremendous power."
"Does that mean you guys aren't holding back anymore if I can smell you?"
Mydei moves a wet hand to pet your head, "We don't need to hold back up here."
"Besides," Phainon gazes at you with a fondness in his eyes, "It's nice to share something so personal with someone close, don't you think?"
They can't just relax like this around anyone, and since you all spend most of your time in the city, you hardly get a chance to get a whiff of them. A giddy smile decorates your face, your eyes closing as you relax once more, "Yeah, I agree."
...
On the third day you notice something odd. Your friend's seem to be more agitated, little offsets leading to snarling and biting, every twig snap or rustle has them staring in that direction in case of a particular threat.
You've never seen them like this.
They must be stressed by all the work that's been unloaded onto them. An argument broke out five minutes ago about something you didn't understand, the two deciding to take a walk to cool off and collect more firewood. You decide that this is the perfect time to help them out, picking up a sword and attaching it to your waist before heading out on a patrol. When you get back, they can relax at the duties already being fulfilled.
You don't know the area very well, however, you did accompany them the past couple of nights so you have an idea of where to go. You're not too stressed about getting lost, the trail somewhat visible to someone like you, who has been taught overcome these kinds of obstacles. What you didn't expect was that it gets darker quicker under the canopy of trees.
It appeared you had an hour of daylight left, yet only fifteen minutes later and you noticed a dramatic change. The mountains are certainly an interesting place to be, you're usually stationed closer to the city and nearer the fallen towns.
With the darkness comes fauna that arouse at night, a particular croak gaining your attention. You crouch down with interest, seeing a teal coloured frog with a lighter stomach hop into a puddle. It was smaller than the palm of your hand, yet the sound it made was so loud you would never expect it to come from such a tiny creature.
Your admiration was halted as you hear heavy thumping from deeper in the brush. It's fast, leaves and sticks being moved and thrown out of the way to make room for whatever is coming at you. You quickly draw your sword and take a defensive stance, readying for whatever may be in store.
If it's a boar or something similar, you could climb one of the thicker trees and make your way around by jumping branches. If it's something more like a giant bush cat, then you would have no choice but to fight it.
Turns out, it was neither. Before you had the opportunity to lay eyes on it, there is ablur of movement and your weapon is thrusted from your hand, flying off and landing into the dark distance. You're immediately incapacitated, wrist close to snapping and arm yanked back as you're brought to your knees.
Mydei is snarling aggressively in your ear, holding you down like some convict trying to escape. He spits his words like venom, "What the fuck did you think you were doing? Are you stupid?! Leaving the nest like that wandering off on your own!"
You cry out in pain as he tightens his grip, the sound and pheromones you let off making him back off slightly but not letting go.
Before you can ask what the hell is going on, Phainon appears behind you and walks around so he can kneel at your front. He tenderly cradles your face and looks over you for any other injuries, "Don't hurt him, Mydei. He made a stupid decision but it wasn't his fault."
A breath of relief leaves you when he finally lets go. You slump and cradle your aching arm, flinching when Mydei falls to his knees behind you and resting his face in the crook of your neck. He mumbles into your flesh, "Why did you leave like that? You could have gotten hurt."
With a new found annoyance, you flick Phainon's hands away from you and shrug the other off your back, "What the fuck??? Why are you both acting like I just up and left?"
"Because you did up and leave," Mydei growls, only halting when he and Phainon meet with a hard glare. He tuts and stands, making sure you have nowhere to run if you decided to flee, "We should have just been outright with him from the beginning."
You didn't like the sound of that. Without a word, you look to Phainon for an answer, Mydei is acting too impulsive for your liking right now. Phainon stands before you, both of them now crowding any escape with how close they are, "In truth, we brought you up here because we knew our ruts were coming and we wanted you with us."
"P-Pardon?" It was so incredulous you were sure you heard wrong. But, what else could he have said? "You do know what I am, right? We've only known each other for a couple of decades so be honest if you need a reminder."
Mydei scoffs and grabs you by the back of your shirt, hefting you to your tippy toes to growl, "Our Beta's got jokes. If you can jest then you can mate."
"WHAT?!" You kick your feet comically in the air, trying to find some sort of purchase, "I can't mate - I physically cannot mate! Not with an Alpha!!"
Phainon chimes in giddily, "Two Alphas! Don't worry, we'll ensure you're thoroughly pregnant by the end of this rut."
Body limits aside, being a beta means your reproductive organs aren't open to be used. They're sitting inside you, dormant. For some reason, you don't think they see that as a drawback, instead viewing your biology as more of a challenge to be tackled.
...
Day six and you're sore. Your legs, which have been in every position possible. Your arms, which are restrained when they're doing anything that's not fucking you. Your poor, poor hole, which hasn't been dry in days. Your oversensitive cock, now you can't tell what liquid comes out, your last orgasm streaming like piss on the rock below.
Phainon drags his hot, wet tongue up your neck, moaning as he slips his erected cock into you again. Your mouth hangs open, arse clenching when he's stopped by his knot hitting your rim. He's got you in a full nelson, your thighs over his own, a sound of discomfort coming from you at the stretch of his knot trying to enter you.
He shudders, lightly humping upwards, "Do you smell that, Mydei? He's changing."
Mydei flops his own dick in your face, tracing his leaking tip along the bone of your cheek before he slips his length between your lips, "How interesting. All our darling beta needed was a little push."
Your eyes roll into the back of your head as they fuck you again, your pretty, little hole gaping ever larger to accommodate them.
...
The cold, wet soil near the falls was blissful on your overheating skin. You've never felt this hot before, you assume it's a fever coming on from being under these two for however many days now. Mydei has you on your back, tongue swirling and mouth slurping at your puckered arse.
It was nice to just relax and be tended to, as fucked up as that seems. Phainon was behind him, washing his own body and admiring the scene before him.
Mydei licks a stripe from your hole, up the length of your taint and to your flaccid cock. He coos patronisingly, kissing the sensitive tip and making you jolt, "Poor sweetheart, have we been too rough with you?"
It's too little too late to ask you that now. You stick with your mission of giving them the silent treatment unless necessary, turning your head away and closing your eyes, thinking back on the coolness of the soil.
Until, "A-Ahh! S-Stop!" You moan, hands going to his hair and yanking as hard as you can, trying to stop him from swallowing your cock and drinking it over and over again. The way his tongue and cheeks move against your flesh has you throbbing and twitching in his mouth. "I can't, I can't," you breathe, swaying your head side to side as if to deny the oncoming torture.
But you can't, even half-hard he has you spurting your cum down his throat. You hold his head down with each half-hearted thrust, only to pull again before another tingling jolt of your hips.
When you can open your eyes again, you pleadingly gaze to Phainon, who had paused his washing to stare solely at you both. His eyes dart to meet yours, mind working overtime to bring him out of his daze and pull lightly on his companion, "Hey, save some for me, okay? Let him recuperate a bit."
Mydei flies his elbow back, not getting off you. At this, Phainon clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and locks the blonde's head with his elbow, flipping him back into the water.
You take a deep breath as they start to wrestle. Now you can rest again, you rarely get time to yourself now. When they sleep, sometimes, you're still plugged with one of them inside you, cockwarming throughout the night. Otherwise, when they go hunting, you might be tied tightly inside the cave, though there is usually at least one of them with you.
A gentle rain starts, the drops hitting your heated face. You need this, the rain a lot cooler than the falls as it collects in the sky. Lately, you've been feeling weird, unwell, hot. It's unlike anything you've ever experienced before.
Not to mention their scent. The boys' sweat, bodies, just everything about them is becoming less off putting and more desirable than ever. If you're honest, you're scared with what's happening.
...
They had both left you in the cave, the rain a perfect mask for hunting good meat right now.
"Need to keep our darling's energy up!"
You're not sure when, but some time after they left you were reeling in some sort of pain. Not like being slashed by a sword, or thrown by an enemy, but more like a strange punch to the gut. It blossomed within you and bloomed around your body, effecting your head and pelvis the most.
Breathing became difficult, your chest rising and falling quickly, you couldn't focus on how to fix it. No, not with the gnawing pain and discomfort in your gut.
You had wormed your way towards the entrance but the rope only let you go so far. They didn't give you enough leeway to get more than halfway through the cave, which meant you couldn't get any rain to cool you down.
What you did find, however, was their sashes they didn't wear today. Your nose twitched, and you reached your tied wrists over so your fingers could grab the red fabric and scrunched it to your face, moaning in absolute delight. Quickly, you secured the blue and gold one and weaved it between your legs, covering as much of your body as you could.
You're not sure when they came back, only realising they were standing ominously at the entrance of the cave when their musk started to seep heavier than the sashes you were breathing. The rain hadn't let up, both of them drenched and Mydei holding the antlers of a dead deer beside him.
Your jaw trembles, tears running down your cheeks as you whimper, "What's happening to me?"
It's only when you talk do they enter, dropping the carcass to the side before carefully kneeling down to cradle you. Your ropes are torn off and you sit between the two men, both leaning so they can run their teeth over the scent glands in your neck.
You whine as Mydei gently nibbles you, a low groan causing your cock to leak rivulets down your shaft, "Perfect for biting now."
Phainon reaches to gasp your cock, smoothly jerking up the length before circling his fingers along the glands, "I knew your unawaken second gender was this. You just had to be an omega, what with the way you were taunting us; begging to be bred."
Unawaken... Omega? No, that's-
"Hah~ Please..." You lift your hips when you feel fingers enter inside you, easily stretching you open now.
Mydei chuckles deeply, grinning at all the new possibilities going through his head, "Perfect for knotting now, too."
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hoe4hamzah · 3 months ago
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Good Morning
⤷ A Hamzah Smut
──⋆. 𐙚 ˚
⤷ In the midst of a camping trip, Hamzah and Y/N are stuck sharing a tent and a mattress. Where Hamzah's morning wood gets the best of him
⤷ Hamzah x y/n, one bed trope, smut, rough, somnophilia??
⤷ 3.9k words
⤷ chat don't comment on my english istg I'm trying so hard
The camping trip between you, Hamzah, Martin, and Mandy was going just as planned. Hiking for almost the entire day to your campsite, it was starting to get late.
You were exhausted and looking forward to climbing on your mattress and going to sleep. Martin and Mandy looked like they were getting the worst of it, both looking like they could pass out any second.
Dropping all of your bags onto the dirt of the campsite floor, you groaned, feeling relieved by the stress coming off of your back.
Everyone did the same, sitting on top of them to take a break.
"Holy fuck you guys, that was the worst experience of my life" Mandy huffed, stretching her arms and shoulders out.
"You know what, it's good for the soul, and probably our health" Martin chimed in.
"Screw your soul, Martin, I'm fucking tired," Hamzah butted in, "I didn't realize it was gonna be so far away"
You laughed at Hamzah's exclamation, nodding along.
You only recently started hanging out with the three of them. You knew Mandy from work and after a crazy shift you went back to her house for a glass of wine.
Martin and Hamzah were hanging out that same night, allowing you to meet all of them. You guys really all hit it off together and have been friends for about a month now, Martin regularly asking Mandy if you could come over after work.
You and Hamzah weren't too close, you could comfortably talk and be on your own together without any awkwardness, but you guys didn't have the same closeness as you did with Mandy or Martin.
You enjoyed the time you got to spend with all of them though, and you all got along well enough to go on a camping trip together while you all took a break from work.
Camping together was a fun idea, and you knew you were gonna enjoy the time you guys would spend together, even if that meant carrying around heavy backpacks for hours.
Everyone was hungry, but you all agreed you were too tired to start a fire and cook something. Mandy dug out granola bars and bags of dried fruit from the backpack sitting next to her, giving everyone something to eat before you had to deal with the tents.
Scarfing the food down, you all had to build the tents. You and Mandy would share while Martin and Hamzah would share, having two small mattresses in each tent.
None of you really knew how to set up a tent so it really became a four person job. The four of you argued about directions and how the tent would get set up, evantually figuring it out. You opened one of the boxes from the mattresses and noticed instead of there being two small ones in each mattress, there was only one big one.
"Aw man Martin, you bought a full-sized matress, not two small ones" You whined, glaring at Martin.
"Bruh you're kidding" He argued, looking through the boxes, "Well shoot, I guess we have to cuddle Hamzah"
"Oh great" Hamzah hummed sarcastically.
You weren't too annoyed, knowing you and Mandy were too tired to really care. The two of you have experianced enough at work to be bothered by having to sleep close to each other.
Mandy helped Martin move his stuff into his tent before blowing up the mattress. You and Hamzah watched for a minute before moving on, "Here, I'll help set up you and Mandy's tent"
The two of you started on the second tent, building it a bit easier now that both of you knew what to do. You dug around for the second mattess box, this one also being a single full sized matress.
You brought it into the tent and used the pump it came with to blow it up. Hamzah grabbing your bags and bringing it into your tent.
"How's is looking?" He asked
"So far, so go" You smiled, "I don't know what those two are going but we could probably get your bags in your tent and Mandy's in here"
Hamzah nodded as you went over by the pile of bags and helped cary Hamzahs to his tent. As he unziped the tent he noticed Martin and Mandy passed out on the mattress like a couple of starfish.
"Martin, Mandy, wake up" He said, jiggling the air mattress with his foot. "Bro they fell asleep, what the hell"
You groaned and threw your head back, wishing Mandy would wake up so you two could go back to your tent and sleep.
After Hamzahs multiple attempts at waking them up, they stayed knocked out, "Who even falls asleep that fast"
"They could have at least helped put stuff away" You chuckled.
You climbed out of the tent before realizing the situation, "So now what?"
Hamzah thought for a second, "I don't really know, Mandy won't wake up and I'm supposed to sleep in there with Martin"
You hummed in thought, trying to figure out another plan.
"I can always sleep in the hammock" Hamzah suggested, "Can't be that bad"
You shook your head, knowing that wouldn't end well. "You'd get eaten alive, either the bugs or the bears would get to you"
Hamzah bit the side of his lip, trying to come up with something.
"Alright, well, you can just share me and Mandys mattress, it's not the end of the world I guess" You admitted
Hamzah seemed a little unsure, shaking his head, "I don't know, that's kinda odd, no?"
You shrugged your shoulders, "Well yeah, but that's kind of the only option at the moment"
He nodded before finally agreeing to share your tent, dragging his bags in there while you took Mandys into Martins tent.
You sat on the end of the mattress, while Hamzah climbed in and zipped it shut. You rubbed your eyes as Hamzah sat next to you and huffed. He layed his back down against the mattress before sighing.
"I'm so tired man" he yawned, "I gotta go to sleep"
You nodded along, yawning after him.
The two of you changed into more comfortable clothes, facing away from each other in seperate corners.
It was hot out, and even more hot in the tent. You were planning on just wearing a tank and underwear since you would have been with Mandy. And Hamzah was planning on just wearing his underwear as he was suppposed to be with Martin.
Neither of you knew the other person was in the same dilemma, both thinking about what to wear. It would have been one thing if you were on seperate mattresses, but now that you're sharing the same one, your outfit choice had to be more appropriate.
Digging through your clothes, you found a white tanktop and grey sweat shorts. Hamzah himself found sweatpants and a black wifebeater for a shirt.
You flopped yourself onto the mattress as you and Hamzah were both done changing. Grabbing a pillow and a blanket before cozying up.
You didn't exactly need the blanket, but you felt the need to cover up as you could somewhat see your nipples through the white tank. You weren't exactly worried though, Hamzah never gave off weird vibes to you that made you want to shield yourself. But in this situation, you felt it would be a good idea.
Hamzah grabbed his own pillow and blanket, plopping the pillow next to your head and the blanket in between you and where he was going to sleep.
It seemed he was in the same situation, he felt it would be more comfortable for the both of you to have something to seperate the two of you since you've never been this close before.
Hamzah flopped onto the mattress, causing you to whine as it bounced you around, "Hamzah go to bed." He chuckled a little before laying on his side, facing away from you.
It was a rough night, you could hear the snores from the tent on the other side of the campsite, it was extremly hot, and Hamzah kept tossing a turning, the movements making the mattress move under you. Your back was facing him and your eyes were wide open, knowing you weren't going to sleep very well regardless of how tired you were.
After another 30 minutes, the heat was starting to get to you, needing to pull down the blanket that covered your chest. It felt awfully freeing to have the fresh air on you, but you still covered your chest with your arms.
You noticed Hamzah rustling behind you in a manner that sounded like he was wide awake. You layed on your back, looking over at him as fumbled with his sweat pants. You wanted to ask if he was okay but he quickly lifted his hips and yanked off his sweatpants, leaving him in his underwear and his top.
Before he could realize you were awake you closed your eyes, and he grabbed the blanket that seperated the two of you and covered himself up, still trying to maintain some decency.
Part of you felt interested in the fact that he took off his sweatpants while the other part felt embarassed and flushed.
You tried your best to ignore it and get some sleep.
Fortunately, you were able to get some sleep in, but you woke up again to the heat about an hour later.
You opened your eyes and noticed the tent was a little brighter, rubbing your eyes to see clearer, seeing Hamzah scrolling through his camera roll on his phone.
"Sorry, did I wake you?" He whispered?
You shook your head, "No, the stupid heat did"
Hamzah nodded in agreement, "Yeah me too, I'm kind of dying over here"
"If you need to take your shirt off, I get it," You hummed, "It's getting really hot"
"Yeah, I thought about it," Hamzah nodded, "Just didn't wanna be too weird"
You simply nodded back, watching as he threw his phone down and sat up to take off his shirt.
Looking away to give him privacy, you noticed the state of yourself. You were laying on your back, you tank ridded up to your chest, your shorts looked like they were about to slide right off, you somehow kicked your blanket off completely, and your nipples were completely showing through the sheer tank.
Your face flushed as you sat up to reach your blanket and cover yourself up, mumbling a small "sorry" under your breath.
Hamzah didn't respond, laying back on his side, facing away form you, with his blanket covering his legs. You took that as him not noticing the state you had been in for who knows how long.
You stayed laying like that before you were finally exhausted enough to fall asleep completely.
That was the last time you woke up from the heat, your exhaustion finally hitting you and knocking you out for the rest of the night.
Once it was morning, you rubbed your eyes and checked your phone.
6:30am
You sighed, knowing no one else would be awake and you wouldn't be able to fall back asleep.
Turning over to get more comfortable, you saw Hamzah asleep on his back. His blanket was kicked down halfway on his thighs, one arm above his head and one on his stomach.
You felt jealous of his ability to be sleeping right know, but you were happy he was finally able to rest.
Trying no to stare at him, you looked away from him, though your eyes grazed over his lower half as you looked away.
Doing a double take, you realized Hamzah had a big issue.
He had the biggest boner you think you've ever seen in your life.
You looked away again, feeling perverted for even looking at it to begin with. You adjusted the blanket on you, and pulled it over your sholders, turning back on your side, away from Hamzah.
Your heart beated in your chest, feeling it in your throat. You shut your eyes and tried to think about something else, not knowing what to do about the morning wood situation.
After a few minutes, Hamzah rolled onto his side, this time, facing you. His arm flew over your body and you could feel his dick poking your ass, making your heart beat even faster.
He was still passed out, not noticing the position he was in.
Part of you wanted to scoot away, but a different part of you wanted to stay there.
Hamzah was an attractive guy, you knew that. He had beautiful curly hair, strong arms, an amazing smile, adn was overall very handsome. He even had a good personality, always knowing the right thing to say and what to do.
You knew he was the type of guy who could get whoever he wanted, he was good at talking to girls, and from Martins jokes, good at taking care of them too.
Even the thought of Hamzah doing anything inappropriate made you bite your lip. Even though you were friends, you couldn't rationalize saying no to him if he tried to make a move on you.
How could you? He was perfect.
Pulling yourself out of this little day dream, you realized you were subtly rubbing your ass against his cock by the thought of him in an innapropriate situation.
You stopped yourself as you bit your lip, hoping he didn't wake up and think you were a total freak who was trying to give him a boner in his sleep.
Fortunately for you, he wasn't awake. He definetly was stirring in his sleep, breathing heavier, and humming a little in your ear, but he wasn't awake.
You tried so hard not to think about him innapropriatley anymore, but the thought of him fucking you kept forcing it's way into your mind.
It was strange, because you never thought about him sexually before, of course you thought he was sexy, but you never sat there and thought "I need to fuck him."
You could feel the slickness in your panties without even touching them. Squeezing your legs in attempts to supress the feeling your cunt was developing.
You slowly slipped your hand under the band of your shorts and panties, trying not to wake up Hamzah as his arm was still laying over you.
The slickness of your pussy grazed onto your fingertips as you slid them between your folds.
As your fingers bumped your clit, you let out a tiny involuntary whine. Slowly pulling them away before gently going back and rubbing your clit in circles.
Your eyes squeezed shut and you bit your lip to block any noises.
This was crazy. You were crazy.
You felt Hamzah stir in his sleep behind you, letting out a sigh before going silent again.
You thought for a second. You should stop. No. What if he likes it. But your're just friends.
Thoughts flew through your brain, no knowing what to do.
His boner was still pressed against your ass, throbbing in his restricting underwear.
Sliding your hand out of your pants, your looked over your shoulder. He was dead asleep.
Your pussy throbbed now that you saw his face, wanting so badly but to get attention from him.
You bit your lip a little before slowly rubbing your ass against his cock, waiting for him to wake up.
His arm moved, holding the side of your waist, but he still wasn't awake.
You kept your movements going before your hands made their way up to your chest, slipping under your tank and pinching your nipples. You whinned a little at your own actions as you felt Hamzah press his cock further against your ass.
You froze, not sure if he was awake or asleep.
If he was awake, then he made it clear he liked your advances, but if he was sleeping, it seemed like you weren't getting very far.
You were unsure of what to do, you wanted to look over at him but if the two of you made eyecontact you'd be so embarassed.
The only thing you could think of was continuing your movements and start grinding aginst him again.
Your hips moved slow, if he was awake he could easily believe you were doing this in your sleep.
Still moving your hips, you felt his grip tighten on your waist. You halted your movements, laying still.
Exactly then, his hand started moving your hips, making you grind against him like you were before.
That's when you knew he was awake.
And he knew you were awake when you stopped moving after his grip tightened on your waist a second before.
Neither of you said a thing, but you both grinded against each other. His cock throbbed against your ass, twitching ever so often.
His breathing grew heavy and dick grew harder.
He bit his lip once he heard you let out small breathy whines, waiting for him to give you something more.
His hand glided up and down your side, making its way under your shirt and to your tits. Hamzah softly squeezed your nipple, causing you to let out a weak whimper.
His hand then went down to the waistband of your shorts, slipping his hand in over your panties.
Hamzah let out a soft sigh when he felt the wetness of your pussy soaking through your panties.
Your arm reached behind you, placing your hand right over his cock, giving it a squeze before rubbing it over his underwear.
You could hear the breathy moan he let out and feel the precum ooze through his underwear.
Both of you wanted this, and bad.
Hamzahs hand went under your panties, feeling the pure slick of your cunt.
You pulled your hand off of him before lifting your hips and pulling down your shorts and panties, giving his hand more access.
His fingers slipped up and down your folds, massaging at them then going to your clit. Hamzah slowly rubbed your clit in circles as you let you a loud whine.
He halted his movements before quietly saying "shhhh," pressing a kiss against the back of your shoulder and continuing to circle your clit.
Even though that was the first thing he muttered to you, you couldn't be upset. You knew you needed to be quiet as Mandy and Martin were fairly close.
As Hamzah continued to rub your clit your grinded your ass against his clothed cock, causing more movement for the both of you.
You let out a whimper, one that practically sent Hamzah over the edge.
He pulled his hand off your pussy and to himself. You felt as he tugged off his own underwear, his cock slapping against your ass.
Hamzah grabbed his dick and moved it down, sliding it up and down your folds, teasing you.
You wiggled your hips a little, trying to follow your hips so the tip of his cock was against your cunt no matter where he moved it.
With his dick pressed up against your tight hold, you ever so slightly thrusted your hips backwards, the tip of his cock threatening to slip in.
That's when Hamzahs hand went back to your waist and slowly slipped his cock inside of you.
You both let out gasps as he bottomed out, both of you staying still. The tightness of your cunt squeezed him so well, causing a stretch inside you.
He was big, really big, but he fit inside of you so perfectly. The stretch was painful, but it was a good pain, the kind of pain you like.
You wiggled your hips a little, wanting him to start moving.
"Can you be quiet for me, hun?" Hamzah whispered in your ear
You eagerly nodded, whining in his confidence to make you feel good.
He slowly pulled out before thrusting back in again, moving back and forth softly and carefully.
His gentleness was kind but you wanted him to fuck you like he meant it.
You pressed your ass back against him roughly when he started pulling out again, signaling that you wanted more.
He chuckled softly against you before turning you on your stomach and pulling your ass up in the air, his dick staying inside of you the entire time.
You moaned into your pillow and the movement as he roughly thrusted into you, gripping your waist harshly.
His thrusts were mean, rough, fast, and deep, hitting you in all of the right spots.
One of his hands when to the top of your back, keeping it pressed down while he fucked you.
His thrusts continued, and it took everything in you not to scream out.
Your pussy was dripping, his dick hitting every spot inside you. His breathy moans made your more wet.
He let out a small, "fuck" under his breath, showing how badly he wants this.
Hamzahs thrusts never slowed down. He repeatedly thrusted deep inside you at a pace that made you want to cum all over him.
You let out a whimpery "mmm" as you felt yourself get close.
One of his hands grabbed your shoulder, pulling you upright, wrapping that hand around your neck.
You dropped your head against his shoulder as his other hand went to your cunt, rubbing your clit in gentle circles.
The arch of your back allowed him to still be able to thrust into you, keeping the roughness he had before,
Your eyes filled with tears from the stimulation, and you tried so hard not to moan, not to let Mandy and Martin hear what he was doing to you.
Hamzah locked eyes with you, a small grin forming on his face when he saw you trying to resist cumming.
The thing is, neither of you wanted this to end, but both of you wanted to cum so bad.
Hamzah continued pumping in and out of you, leaning his head down to press kisses to your neck, trying to show you he wasn't trying to take advantage of the situation.
You let out little whimpers, squeezing around his cock.
"You close, hun?" He asked, continuing his motions.
You nodded quickly, letting out a little whimper.
He nodded in response, "Me too baby, me too"
"H-Hamzah," You tried to mutter, voice fighting a moan, "please"
"Please what baby?" He questioned, "What do you want?"
"I- ah- I want you- mm- to cum inside me" You moaned
"Okay baby, okay" Hamzah responded, pressing another kiss against your neck.
As his thrusts continued, you could feel yourself twitching against him, your pussy so so close to release.
With a few more thrusts you felt that rough knot in your stomach unravel, and your cunt come undone on his cock.
Your body twitched as you felt the overstimulation of him thrusting into you after you had just orgasmed.
He slowly layed you down on your stomach, following you down so his cock never left the inside of you.
You squirmed underneith him, pussy aching.
"I know, I know," Hamzah hummed, "I'm almost there angel, wait one minute"
Even though you already came and were ready to be done, his words made you more wet, not wanting him to stop.
With a few more of thrusts, Hamzah felt himself about to finish. He let out some breathy grunts before cumming inside you like you begged him too.
Before pulling out, he pressed more kisses to the back of your shoulder.
He slipped his length out of you, turning you over on your back so he could see you better.
The two of you made eye contact before both softly laughing, simultaneously trying to catch your breath.
"Good morning" Hamzah smiled
"Good morning"
838 notes · View notes