#I just realized his thumb should have the T

[wonustars]

In Front of Me (Teaser)

⊹ pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader ⊹ genre: bestfriend to lovers, angst, smut (18+ mdni) ⊹ wordcount: TBA (this teaser: 679) ⊹ release date: TBA

⊹ summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time. ⊹ tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, bestfriends to lovers (?), unrequted love, emotionaly stunted charcters, wonwoo has a bit of an ego, toxic!wonwoo&reader. (more tags and smut tag added to full fic when posted.) ⊹ note: im really excited to share this with you all. its not by any means done but heres a teaser for now since ive been away for so long ♡ also the teaser is not edited so pls just ignore if theres typos hehe. lov u all pls come into my ask box cuz i refuse to shut up abt this story :p.

⊹ masterlist, taglist, fic playlist.

Rejection is foreign to Wonwoo.

Most times, it’s him that’s doing the rejecting. He was the one to always initiate the break up, to lose feelings first, every decision was made by him. He has no control over whether you’re going to text him back or not, and to put it simply, he can’t stand that feeling. 

Wonwoo hates not being in control. Whether that be his future, his relationships, and especially his feelings. At least that’s what he forces himself to believe. That it’s not fair of you to ignore him when he’s worried about you, because he’s your best friend. You should answer him when he texts you. When he calls you, and especially when he shows up to your door, seeking your comfort. In his mind, that is what he believes the foundation of your friendship is. To comfort each other, just like it always has been. 

Sure, maybe Wonwoo is entitled, perhaps he’s conceited and selfish, but he doesn’t care. Because in his mind, you’re his bestfriend. There was no way in hell that you were ignoring him. His ego doesn’t even consider it a possibility. You were busy, that’s it. That has to be it. 

{໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১  ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋆˙}

Less than fourty-eight hours in, Wonwoo couldn’t stop himself from texting you once more. Nimble fingers practically itching to open your contact to update you about the most mundane things. Maybe if he pretended that this moment of silence is perfectly normal, then maybe, you would eventually end up answering him. 

12:36 p.m [wons <3]: class just finished. lunch at our usual place?

Nothing. Not even a thumb’s up reaction. Wonwoo had become antsy, guilt and slight annoyance gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Where the hell are you? What are you doing that’s so important that you couldn’t even open his message let alone read them? 

1:27 p.m.  [wons <3]: this random girl asked for my number after class lol. weird right? i didn’t give it to her though 😁

Cursing at himself, he regrets pressing the send button on that text. Double texting you is already out of the norm for him, but triple texting? He can’t believe how desperate he looks right now. He wishes he could bring himself to unsend it, but he just hopes it’ll be the text that finally gets you to respond. 

2:10 p.m. [wons <3]: saw a bunny running thru the oval today u should’ve seen it! reminded me of u.  [1 photo attachment] 

Absolute radio silence from your end. Wonwoo is starting to think that you had him blocked, but his messages are still delivering. Unsure of what’s worse, you ignoring him or blocking his number, Wonwoo still tries his best to remain calm.

4:00 p.m. [wons <3]: im about to head home soon. r u riding w me today? 

The sight of you getting into Seokmin’s car made Wonwoo scoff. Since when did you start getting rides home from Seokmin? And why was he the one opening the door for you? Buckling your seatbelt instead of his own? Wonwoo is completely dumbfounded at what he had witnessed. 

4:30 p.m.  [wons <3]: saw u get into seokmin’s car, lmk if u need a ride tmrw. 

Seeing you laugh and smile while walking to the student parking lot with Seokmin of all people solidified the fact that you are actively ignoring his texts. And he just can’t stand the thought of it. How dare he be ignored? Especially by his best friend, the one person who had always responded to him, no matter the time or how busy you were, you always texted him back. 

Wonwoo initially thought that even if the world ended, you would be there within arms reach, enough to hold you close, where he can keep you safe. You were predictable in that sense. But if the world decided to burst into flames, or swallow itself whole tomorrow, he’s unsure if you would be there right next to him by the time he woke up.

⊹ a/n: if u want to be apart of the taglist please fill out the form, comment or send an ask! please note that i'll only add those who have an age indicator somewhere in their blog! thank you ♡

[munsonsmixtapes]

requesting finnick fluff pure FLUFF maybe he’s been crushing on reader for a while now but she just doesn’t get the hints and brushes him off as a really sweet friend so the poor guys trying to make his feelings clear and lowkey get out the friend zone

cw: hurt/comfort, miscommunication

Finnick had loved you from the very beginning. The moment he laid his eyes on you, he was convinced that he was a goner. You walked into the birthday party that Peeta and Katniss were throwing for him and he was done for. You smiled at him then pulled him in for a hug as if you were old friends, had even brought him a gift.

"It's a koi fish," you explained when he had opened the box. "It's a symbol for luck, prosperity, good fortune, and of perseverance in the face of adversity."

And the way you smiled, seeming so excited to explain, he couldn't help but smile as well, yours becoming so infectious. Finnick immediately put it on and had decided that it was the best gift he had ever received, even though he never would have admitted that to you.

"And I know that district four is known for fishing and I thought it'd be a nice reminder from where you came from." He didn't want to cry, but he almost felt like he was going to. You hadn't even known him and managed to get him something so meaningful.

And so, every moment after that, he found himself following you around like a lost puppy, seeming so obvious about his feelings for you, and everyone around understood, but you didn't. At least, that's what it looked like.

And he'd never admit it, but hearing you constantly tell him that he was a really good friend was nothing but painful. How didn't you see it? How did you not understand that he was doing all of those things because he was harboring such intense feelings for you? Since when did friends give other friends roses just because?

He did everything but pour his heart out to you and apparently that hadn't been enough. Apparently if he wanted you to know how he felt, he was going to have to come out and say it. To tell you exactly how he was feeling about you no matter how much that scared you.

But what Finnick didn't know was that you felt the exact same way. You loved him just as much, maybe even more than he loved you. It was just that you didn't believe that he felt the same way, convincing yourself that he hadn't expressed your feelings just to make yourself feel better. It was easier to deal with that way.

So you'd constantly refer to him as friend, not to create boundaries, but more to remind yourself that that was what you were to him. It was easier that way as opposed to trying to create something out of nothing.

But all that came to a stop when Finnick suddenly got fed up with keeping everything to himself. The two of you had been in his kitchen, washing and drying dishes, laughing and joking and once the dish in your hand was dry, he took you into his arms, but this time was different. He was looking at you differently. There was a sudden fire there and for once, you understood. You got what he was saying without any words leaving his mouth.

"Oh, I really am an idiot, aren't I?" You asked as your forehead fell to his shoulder and he was quick to take hold of your head, his thumbs rubbing along your cheeks gently.

"No," he shook his head. "I should have said something. And I guess I am now," he chuckled. "I love you. I love you more than you'll ever know. And I know I don't have much, but I hope that you could still love me despite that."

"You know I don't care about any of that," you replied, your arms wrapping around his waist. "I just want you. That's all I need because I love you too. I have for a long time and I'm sorry it took me so long to to realize that you loved me too."

"Don't beat yourself up about it, hon. Just give me some sugar and all will be forgiven." And you did, pressing your lips to his, your fingers finding their way into his hair as the both of you poured your feelings into the kiss.

You stayed like that for a while, sharing nothing but kisses, giggles, and "I love you's" in the dim kitchen lighting as the dishes were abandoned as he carried you to his room, nothing but laughs falling from your mouth as you did so. If that was going to be what your life was like, then you decided that you were going to be happy for the rest of your days.

[restinslices]

Come get y’all juice

[ghostlywhiskey]

price who proposes to you in private. there is no camera waiting to capture the moment. there is no stress or planning ahead to try and get you ready and in a specific area without raising suspicion. it’s just the two of you.

it’s when you don’t expect. it’s a few days after he’s home from deployment and you’re spending the weekend at his house. your body snug on top of his as your lips place soft kisses on his chest, the blanket draped over the two of you to shield half naked bodies; your body covered in his t-shirt while he wears boxers.

fingers lazily scratch up and down your back, causing you to hum to show your content. your kisses on his chest coming to a stop as you rest your cheek on his chest. the only movement your body makes is the result of his steadied breaths.

“we should probably shower,” the suggestion is one that will most likely be ignored, neither of you will make the effort to move from the current position. you’re not even sure why you suggested it in the first place.

the lack of response from him makes you think he’s fallen asleep already, so you move your head to catch a glimpse of him. except eyes are focused on you while fingers continue to scratch your back, but his hand moving behind your neck to keep you focused on him.

“are you—”

“marry me.”

the words run through your brain as you process them. lips part as if you are about to say something, but quickly close as you take another moment.

“i’m marryin’ you one day.”

“yeah, when we’re married.”

“you're the one, y'know that right?”

it was never just ‘marry me’ and you’re not sure how long you stayed quiet, but long enough that his hand slips away from your neck. gently, he urges you to move up his body so you’re now face to face with him.

“going deaf on me r’you?” his chuckle deeper than normal, and you watch as his arm reaches over to the nightstand. sitting up straight on his lap, you feel your breath catch in your throat again.

this was different than every other time he alluded to marriage. this time there was a ring to accompany the words that suggested it.

“john—” and as you speak, he sits up and moves one arm around your waist. his other hand using his thumb to flip open the box with the ring inside it.

“marry me,” it sounds like he’s telling you; it isn’t a question he wants a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer to. “and i know you can hear me.”

does your mouth always feel this dry? is it always this hard to try and speak? your lips parting again as words try to come out, but silence hangs heavy in the room. eyes don’t even glance at the ring before your hands grab his face. the facial hair you once called scratchy and ticklish when you first met him pressed against your palms.

tugging his face close to yours, you give him a small nod. lips graze against his briefly before you press them against his and he’s kissing you back. it tastes salty and wet, despite the feeling of your mouth feeling dry. but, the realization that tears have started to spill down your cheeks hits you.

“okay,” the word barely audible against his lips, but his arm around your waist tightens and pulls you closer when you say it; hand grabbing at your waist to keep you on his lap as if you’re trying to move away, but you aren’t.

when the kiss breaks, his arm slips away to remove the ring from the box. the box quickly discarded onto the bed as he gently takes your hand, you’d think he was holding glass with how delicate he treated it.

the ring slowly slides onto your finger, his own fingertips making your skin feel hot at the touch. once its on, price is guiding your hand to his lips; your ring finger the target for his kiss.

[dejwrldarchived]

⤷‧₊˚ could you imagine having a wet dream about your hot neighbor?

┊ •° ੈ ⋆° ┊ warning readers discretion is advised — female anatomy described, her/she pronouns, written with black reader in mind, pet names (good girl), oral fixation, oral (f.receiving), dirty talk, biting kink, backshots/doggystyle position, spanking, anal play (i mean he put a thumb in it that's it), marking kink, profanity, i think we should write smut about men in explicit mangas some more, mentions of a wet dream, wet dream is in italics, slight pervert!reader, repost from old account, mdni

You couldn't help but stare at him when you saw him. You remembered how your eyes lit up with curiosity seeing him move into the apartment next to yours. An apartment with many tenants who moved in and soon quickly moved out. A rumor traveled around that a ghost resided in that apartment, but you never cared to gossip about said rumor. You just went to work and came home. It was a sad cycle that you’ve done Monday through Friday. Occasionally when you would be leaving for work, you'd see him. The bags under his eyes are as heavy as he’s taking his trash out to put into the apartment’s trash bin. His whole demeanor oozed sex appeal even though he would be the type of man your parents would usher you to stay away from. 

He was a handsome man, and when you laid down to sleep, you only seethed in jealousy, hearing faint moans through the thin walls. A regular neighbor would march over and bang on the door to tell their neighbor to keep it down—but with you, it felt like your body was stuck. You stared at the ceiling indulging in the sound of the way he pleasured this woman. That jealous pit twists in your stomach, realizing that you have most likely been crushing on a taken man this whole time. But it didn’t make sense, you hadn’t seen a woman enter or exit his place when you were around. Either or, you still thought that it should have been you to have the privilege of cooing out his name the way this woman was. 

You could do better. You know you can. 

You may have been in a significant drought, but you were positive your plush lips could kiss him better. Your mouth could wrap around his cock better. You could move your hips while riding him better. But then again, this woman had to have something you didn’t if he was making her feel like this every night. 

You took your pillow over your head to scream into it. The heated feeling between your thighs caused you to roll over on your side to force yourself to sleep. You were only torturing yourself by continuing to be a pervert and listening to him pleasure another woman. Before you could utter a string of complaints to yourself, your body finally relaxed for you to fall into a deep slumber—a poor attempt at ignoring the walls through the paper-thin walls. 

Your body stirred in your sleep as you felt something under the thin lilac-colored duvet that covered your body. You felt something wet upon your thighs as if somebody was nibbling on the flesh on the inside area of your thighs. You attempted to squirm tiredly, but the grip upon you grew tighter. With your hand rubbing the sleep out of your eye, you lifted the duvet, and your eyes nearly bulged out your head seeing him. His eyes filled with so much hunger it sent a chill down your spine. With the oversized t-shirt you usually sleep in pushed up to your waist, you watched as the flat of his tongue glided upward and downward on the clothed part of where your pussy lips were. Even though your underwear was blocking the pleasure feeling of his tongue—you still felt yourself grow wet at the feeling. 

Your next-door neighbor Totsumoto Yuushi didn’t waste any time dragging your fusion-colored panties down your smooth legs to get a taste of you. The flat of his tongue dragged across your puffy pussy lips just to finally relinquish in the taste of you. His darkened eyes met with yours through the little light that shimmered through the window from the moon. You relaxed in his touch as soon as you felt the first flicker on your clit. Your breathing hitches in your throat before you cough up moans and your fingers tangle into his black hair. Before your eyes lolly in the back of your head, the last glimpse you got was of Totsumoto’s eyes shifting close as he finally wanted to focus on his main task. 

Totsumoto’s tongue glides around the entrance of your drooling cunt, and he even could feel you clench, feeling him teasing you. Your thighs were seizing close due to the intense feeling of him between your thighs, but he just pinned them back open. You even heard him moan as he continued to eat his meal. He didn’t leave a drop of slick for him not to savor. The blood rushing to his cock with each kitten lick he’s making on your pussy or each flicker and suck on your sensitive bud. Your juices stained his face, but he could care less when it was a mouthwatering meal right before him. 

Your body arched off the mattress as you failed to run away from your pending orgasm. Your stomach began to form the most satisfying knots for Totsumoto to untie, but he pulled it away. He shortly let his lips drag kisses and bites on the inside of your thighs. He removed himself away from your pussy with a satisfying pop. 

“I want you to cum on this dick, Y/N.” His voice rasps. “I know you want the same thing, right?” Totsumoto tilts his head to the side slightly as if he’s letting his head rest on your bite marks-covered thigh, and his eyes never stop looking at you. 

Totsumoto’s words hit you like a truck with each continued kiss and bite. Your brain felt like complete mush as you realized he snatched your orgasm away from you in the blink of an eye. With his cock on hard, he kisses up your body until his face is just inches away from yours. Him being on top of you but also sure not to squash you. You could feel his cock on the inside of your thigh. Just by how it felt—you could tell it was fat. You’ve had your perverted thoughts during a hot morning imagining how his cock looked. Was it long? Was it girthy? Was he circumcised? How pretty was the tip? You’ve asked yourself that constantly. 

He’ll inch closer to your lips. Through your stare of desperation for him, you watched him lick his lips—savoring in the aftertaste of your pussy before he spoke once more, “How’d you want it? Since you’ve been a good girl while I was between your thighs….” 

Teasingly, he’s letting his teeth nibble on your plump lower lip instead of giving you the satisfaction of a heated kiss. 

“I’ll let you choose.” He adds. 

And that’s how you whine up on all fours with a perfect arch and your cunt eager to swallow Totsumoto’s cock. You figured that if you were to do missionary, you’d become cock drunk for the gentleman immediately. His callous hands grabbed at your waist, dragging you closer to him; you could feel the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance. “Just relax, pretty, sure you fit around me perfectly,” Totsumoto assured.

He’s collecting saliva in his hand to coat his girthy cock with, even though he could see how wet you were for him through his dark locs that fell in his face. His hand gripped your waist, similar to how a person would with some bike handles. He completely braced himself for the waterfall he was about to experience. First, he’s shoving his tip in—slowly, just so you can get used to it, savor it. A wonderful feeling he could get used to. Second, he’s gradually shoving move of his cock inside you. This time he’s taking note of how your manicured fingers grasped at the sheets. 

“I thought you could take my cock, hm?” He’ll teasingly ask. 

You couldn’t even answer his question before he’s immediately plowing forward. No regard for getting used to his size when the wet cunt in between your thighs was enthusiastic for more. You’ll moan out his name like a song you knew from heart. The lewd sound of heated skin slapping against each other adding on to your tune of moans. It created a sweet melody that Totsumoto enjoyed hearing. It motivated him to fuck just a little better, a little harder. 

Your pillow was beginning to stain with your salty tears with each ram of his hips. You only had the opportunity to let out broken moans that bounced upon the thin walls of your bedroom. Your hand went back behind you to slow down his abrupt thrusting, but that only led to him swatting your hand away as if it were a fruit fly flying around a garbage can. At this point, you had lost count of how many times the two of you had cum. The sticky mess that imprinted your thighs didn’t stop Totsumoto from continuing what he was doing. The white ring that decorated his cock only turned him on even more. His eyes lazily droop to gaze at your pussy, swallowing his cock. It was an intoxicating feeling how you were clutching around him. Which each pull back on his cock—he could feel you tremble. Hurriedly, wanting to run away from his jabs but ever so eager for him to fill you up some more. 

“You were waiting to feel my cock weren’t you?” He growled lowly. He noticed you didn’t answer his question, only purring out desperate moans. The dark-haired male took that as a challenge. His large hands that once were on your plush love handles would press down your back, ensuring that you wouldn’t break the perfect arch. 

Totsumoto’s fingertips trace alongside the flesh of your ass. His hand slaps at it, and his actions' ripple effect causes his cock to twitch inside you. His body felt like he was running a fever so hot that he could most likely faint. His jet-black strands of hair were sticking to his sweat-coated forward, but even if his hair drooped low in front of his intoxicating deadpan eyes—he still couldn’t take them away from the mess between the two of your bodies. His strokes were beginning to grow sloppy as his body finally overheated due to his lewd actions. 

You knew that the older gentleman was so close to cumming. His grip on your waist tightens, completely entrapping you from running away from his brash thrusting. It took you by shock feeling his thumb insert instantly into your asshole. Your body tensed up, and he leaned down to place the sloppiest set of kisses on your back. “It’s just a thumb unless you want it to be something else.” He hungrily said. 

His words sent a frightening yet exhilarating chill down your spine. Your fingers grasped the crumpled sheets on your mattress as you met his thrusting halfway until the both of you were a cumming mess. You’ve had your fair share of sleeping with men. From horrible hookups to the best lovemaking, no one ever made you feel like this when you were orgasming. You felt like you were on the highest cloud attempting to climb down all by yourself. Your limbs quivered with each sloppy cum coated slam upon your ass, and your moans became so frantic that someone would have thought you were speaking in tongue. The messy mess that imprinted the two of your skin wasn’t as bad as the mess when his cock hesitantly removed itself from you. Totsumoto’s thick cum dripped out of your cunt as he let your body collapse on the mattress below you like a personal used fleshlight. You could hear his breathing returning to normal as he let his fingertips drag alongside your sweat-coated body parts. 

“Sleep tight. You’re going to need it for when I return.” His words came out like a whisper.

When his fingertips left your body, you felt cold without his touch. You were utterly addicted to his touch, and you needed more. However, your shaken limbs and depleted body said otherwise.

Exhaustion overcame your body as the only thing that could be heard in the room was the sound of you trying to control your breathing. Your eyes became droopy, and you realized that he just gave you the best dick you could imagine, that you instantly fell into a deep slumber.

The annoying sound of your alarm caused your eyes to open instantly. Your phone was practically yelling at you to get up to start your day. When you pressed the snooze button on your phone, you glanced at the time. You still have a couple more minutes—perhaps you can attempt to fall asleep to continue the dream. Your panties already were damp, and your nipples hardened in anticipation due to it, but no matter how comfortable you got or how tightly squeezed shut your eyes were—you couldn’t fall back into that deep slumber. There you were, staring at the ceiling, thinking about him, and once again, the horrible feeling of him not being able to pleasure you outside of your perverted wet dreams swirled around in your mind. 

A knock could be heard from your front door, causing your thoughts to disappear— just like the dream you had last night. You climbed out of bed to answer the door, mumbling coherent words about who could be visiting you so early. It was most likely another salesman that wanted to sell something. You opened your front door, and all the annoyance in your body disappeared. There, your neighbor Totsumoto Yuushi stood at your door holding a box. 

Your words were stuck in your throat as your fingers toyed with the ends of the oversized t-shirt you wore to bed. Totsumoto’s eyes traveled down your body, staring at your boobs, and he took a mental note of how your nipples poked through the thin fabric of the t-shirt you were wearing. He cleared his throat to clear out the tension in the air. 

“The delivery guy put this outside my door, and it belongs to you.” Totsumoto’s deep voice croaked out. 

“Thank you.” Your arms extended for him to drop the package in your arms.

Instead, he wiggled past the small gap between you and your cracked door and directly placed your package in your house. He walked out of your apartment and glanced down at you. The scent of him went by you, and you could feel your knees weaken. 

“I’m going to get going now. If you need anything, just knock on my door.” His lips form a sly smile before he walks down to his apartment. 

You closed the door when he was no longer in your eyesight. Your back pressed upon the door as you slowly slid down it—if only he could get you the one thing you wanted the most. 

And that was for your wet dream to come true vividly. 

[bedsyandco]

⭑ …   ❝ 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 ❞ ; quinn hughes

𝓹airing , quinn hughes x fem!reader

5 times Quinn wanted to kiss you + 1 time he finally did

꒰ 𝓷ote , just some quinny content for your dash <3 as always please let me know what you think. . . ꒱

✮1

You make your way through the crowd to get to the table at the back of the bar, where a few familiar faces already spotted you.

"Look who's here! Nice of you to finally join us," Brock says as you hop onto a barstool next to Quinn.

"Hey, stranger," Quinn says softly and knocks his shoulder into yours.

"Guys, I saw you like two weeks ago. Sorry, I have a life," you say teasingly.

"Watching friends, eating Chinese food, and going to bed by 10 PM is not having a life." Brock says, and Quinn laughs at your offended expression.

"It does when you work the hours I do, thank you very much. I'm getting a drink. Do you guys want anything?" You ask and make your way to the bar.

When you get back, Elias is sitting in your seat. Noticing there's no more chairs open, Quinn goes to offer you his, but you stop him.

"It's fine, don't worry about it," you say, and Quinn pulls you to stand in between his legs. Your back leaning against his chest. His arms wrap around your waist, and he hooks two thumbs in your front belt loops, keeping you close.

Throughout the night, you can feel Quinn's breathing on your neck or his head on your shoulder while he talks or listens to one of the guys.

When Brock went to the bar to get a refill on your drinks and Elias went to the bathroom, you and Quinn were left alone at the table.

You turn around in his arms, looking up at him.

"Now is your chance to steal your seat back," Quinn jokes.

"I'm pretty comfy right here, actually," you say, and Quinn smiles softly.

In that moment...

he really wanted to kiss you.

✮2

You jump in surprise as someone knocks on your door. You weren't expecting anybody...least of all the man you found standing at your door.

"Quinn...what are you doing here?" You ask, opening the door wider to let him in.

"I haven't seen you in a few days, and I know you work late tomorrow, and we're leaving on another roadie...I didn't wanna go another week without seeing you," he says and you smile.

"Wanna watch a movie with me?" You ask and he nods, both of you making your way to the couch.

Halfway through the movie, you're cuddled into Quinns side, both of your eyes on the screen.

Quinn feels your eyes on him and looks down to meet them.

"What?" he asks softly

"You played really well tonight..." you say

"You watched?" Quinn asks surpirsed

"Yeah... I always watch. How do you think I know when to tell you congratulations..." You respond.

"I thought you just looked the score up after the game, to be honest," Quinn says

"I like watching you play," you say and Quinn smiles down at you...

In that moment...

he really wanted to kiss you.

✮3

"This is not a good idea," You say shakily as Quinn ties your skates.

"You're gonna be fine... don't be so dramatic. I'll be there the whole time," Quinn says and holds his hand out to lead you onto the ice.

You wobble a bit and grab onto Quinn, looking at him with nothing but fear in your eyes and he bursts out laughing.

"You should see your face right now," Quinn says amused.

"I'm glad you find this amusing," you snap.

"You've lived in Vancouver your whole life. How can you not skate?" he asks

"Contrary to popular belief not all Canadians come out of the womb knowing how to skate. Besides the one time I tried, I fell and broke my wrist and had no intention of ever trying again."

"Just keep your hips straight and push out with one foot and then the other," Quinn says.

You concentrate so much on doing what he says you don't realize he's let your hands go and you're skating on your own.

The moment you do realize, instant panic takes over, and your legs start to go separate ways.

Quinn tries to pull you up, but he's laughing so much, he isn't much help.

"Quinn, help me up." you say, standing in a half split and clinging to Quinn's waist, voice filled with laughter, and Quinn just laughs more.

With him laughing and you clinging to him, neither of you is very stable, and both of you end up on the floor, you on top of Quinn, who was still laughing.

"You did it though, for a second" he says and you scoff

"Can you buy me ice cream now?" you ask pouting

"Yeah, you deserve it." he says and looks up at you. Cheeks flushed because of the cold, a cute little beanie on your head.

he really wanted to kiss you.

✮4

You take another deep breath, and another practice swing, before finally pulling back and hitting the ball.

It goes really far, just not in the right direction...

"Quinn! Did you see that?!" you ask excitedly, and Jack has to turn around to hide his laugh, and Luke rubs a hand over his face to hide his smirk.

"I did see...it was...very far," he says, and you swing your stick, making Jack duck and head for the golf cart.

"Man... she's so smart, but she can not play golf to save her life," Jack says, and Quinn swats at him.

"It's her first time asshole. She's doing great," Quinn says and walks towards you.

"Love really does make you blind." Jack says, and him and Luke laugh all the way to the golf cart.

"You know as much fun as this has been, I don't think I'll be doing this again any time soon," you say and Quinn frowns...

"What? Why?" he asks

"The first couple were fun, you know, but then it just gets really boring and really hot. I was really hoping one of you would've told me to stay in the cart by now," you say and Jack's mouth drops open.

"Were you bad on purpose?" Jack asks

"I'm not good by any standard but those last couple was just to fuck with you a little bit. Props for trying to hide your reactions, but you're a horrible actor Jacky, you're gonna have to do better than that when I give you your Christmas present."

Jack and Luke laugh, and Quinn smiles as you hand them the sunscreen and tell them to put some on.

he really wanted to kiss you.

✮5

You and Quinn were swaying to the music, smiles on your faces, observing Emma and Brady.

"They look so happy," you say

"They really do. You look beautiful," he says, and you blush.

"Thanks, so do you."

"You ever think about it... getting married?" Quinn suddenly asks. "Just in general...someday."

"If the right person asks... yeah," you say.

"Wanna marry me if we're still 30 and single?" Quinn jokes

"There's no way you'll still be single at 30 Quinn, but if that's the case, then yes. I would be honored." You say, and Quinn smiles as the song comes to an end.

Suddenly, Taryn is there dragging you to the side of the room where the bouquet toss was happening, and you smile apologetically at Quinn.

You stood at the back, trying to stay out of people's way. You weren't really trying to catch it. But three seconds later, you stood with the bouquet in your hands, awkwardly looking around the room until your eyes met Quinn's. He smiled as you thrust the bouquet into Taryn's hands and scurried your way over to him, hiding in his chest.

he really wanted to kiss you.

✮+1

You and Quinn were snuggled up at the end of the boat... watching Jack wake board with the sunset behind him.

"I love having you here," Quinn says rubbing patterns on your legs softly

"I love being here..." you reply.

"Think you wanna come back next summer?" Quinn asks, and you turn to look at him.

"I don't know... think I need some convincing," you whisper and move your face closer to his.

Quinn gently cups your face and presses his lips to yours. You soak up the moment for a while before it's interrupted by Jack and Luke's yelling, which results in Jack being horribly distracted and falling into the water.

"I've been wanting to do that a long time..." Quinn admits

"So have I," you say and kiss him again.

he finally kissed you.

[its-avalon-08]

why did you leave me (cl16)

part3!

multipart story! prev || next

summary : charles and y/n have always been best friends. but y/n has been in love with him forever. when charles starts dating a new girl, out of respect y/n distances herself. but how much is too much?

✦ pairing - charles leclerc x female reader

Charles sat on his couch, scrolling through his phone, his heart feeling unusually heavy. Camille was sitting next to him, engrossed in her own world. He had tried to ignore the gnawing feeling that something was missing, but it was becoming impossible to ignore.

"Hey, Camille," he said, trying to keep his voice light. "Do you want to watch that new movie tonight? The one with all the great reviews?"

Camille looked up, her expression indifferent. "Sure, I guess. But I was thinking we could go to that new club instead. It's supposed to be really exclusive."

Charles forced a smile. "Yeah, we can do that."

As Camille continued talking about the club, Charles' mind wandered to Y/N. He missed how effortlessly they used to hang out, how they didn't need to impress each other or go to fancy places to have a good time.

A memory flashed in his mind: he and Y/N, curled up on the couch, watching an old black-and-white movie. She had insisted on watching it because it was a classic, and he had reluctantly agreed. But by the end, he was hooked, and they had spent hours discussing the film’s nuances.

"Y/N, how do you always find these hidden gems?" he had asked, genuinely impressed.

She had laughed, her eyes sparkling. "It’s all about the story, Charlie. You just have to give it a chance."

He glanced at Camille, who was now talking about which outfit she should wear to the club. He tried to engage, but his heart wasn’t in it. He missed Y/N's spontaneous adventures, the way she always made the simplest moments feel extraordinary.

Another memory surfaced: their late-night drives with the windows down, singing along to their favorite songs at the top of their lungs. They never needed a destination; the journey itself was the adventure.

"Remember that time we got lost and ended up at that little diner?" he had said to Y/N, laughing.

Y/N had grinned. "Best pancakes ever. Totally worth it."

Charles sighed, feeling a pang of longing. He looked at Camille, who was now busy on her phone, and he felt a sharp contrast. He tried to shake off the feeling, but it lingered, growing stronger with each passing day.

Later that evening, as they were getting ready to go out, Charles' phone buzzed. He glanced at it, hoping it was Y/N, but it was just a notification. He realized he hadn’t heard from her in days. The absence was like a void, growing wider and more painful.

"Camille, have you noticed that Y/N hasn’t been around much?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

Camille shrugged, not looking up from her mirror. "Maybe she’s just busy. People get busy, Charles."

"Yeah, I guess," he replied, but his heart wasn’t convinced.

He remembered the countless times Y/N had dropped everything to be there for him, whether it was to celebrate a victory or console him after a loss. Her presence had been a constant in his life, a source of comfort and understanding that he now realized he had taken for granted.

"Do you want to invite her tonight?" Camille asked, her tone slightly annoyed.

Charles shook his head. "No, it’s okay."

As they arrived at the club, the noise and the crowd felt overwhelming. Charles found himself wishing he was anywhere else, preferably in a quiet corner with Y/N, sharing a deep conversation or a comfortable silence.

He excused himself and stepped outside, needing some fresh air. The night was cool, and he leaned against the wall, pulling out his phone again. He stared at Y/N’s contact, his thumb hovering over the call button.

Another memory hit him: the time Y/N had sensed he was feeling down and showed up at his door with his favorite ice cream and a goofy movie to cheer him up.

"You know me too well," he had said, his heart warming at her thoughtfulness.

"That’s what best friends are for," she had replied with a wink.

Charles sighed, feeling a deep ache in his chest. He missed her so much it hurt. He realized that Camille didn’t understand him the way Y/N did, and he felt a growing sense of frustration and loneliness.

When he returned to Camille, she was dancing with a group of friends. She waved him over, but he hesitated. The distance between them felt insurmountable, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something fundamental was missing.

That night, as he lay in bed, his thoughts were consumed by Y/N. He knew he had to do something, but he didn’t know what. All he knew was that he couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when his heart was screaming for the one person who had always been there for him.

And with that, he made a decision. He would talk to Y/N, find out what was going on, and try to fix whatever had gone wrong. Because losing her completely was something he couldn’t bear to face.

taglist : @hiireadstuff @starz4me1 @f1fantasys @aundercover @ohthemisssery @ggaslyp1 @hadids-world @matcha---matcha @f1luvrur @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @timmychalametsstuff @janeh22 @ironmaiden1313

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

currently eating drywall while reading your Gaz pushup fic. I got an idea, Gaz pinning reader down under him and doing push-ups like that?

this is playing with fire anon.

1,843 / 15 / takes place immediately after doing push-ups with Gaz and distracting Gaz as he's counting reps

...

The next day, Gaz gives no indicator as to how many push-ups he's doing, and you're struggling to keep track. Your focus lies elsewhere--between his broad shoulders and muscular back; the way his t-shirt fits so tightly to his skin.

"You're not counting my reps this time, I take it?" he asks dryly.

You stiffen, in the middle of warmup stretches yourself. "Why, should I? Are you going to get distracted and miscount again?"

"I don't miscount." He pushes up. His biceps look like carved stone under the strain. "I just ignore people who try to get my attention while I'm working."

"Maybe I should lay under you this time so you can't ignore me." You chuckle absently at your own joke without fully registering the implications of what you just said. You also don't notice Gaz falter in his reps for the first time ever.

He buckles down onto one elbow. "I'm... sorry? Come again?"

Your brain catches up with your mouth just as you're trying to twist your left knee up and over your right hip. "Wait, I didn't mean like that. Or I did, but not in the way that, like, just with your chest-- wait, fuck--"

Still mid-stretch, his hand closes around your ankle.

"No, really, come again."

He pulls, dragging you under him, and you find yourself on your back, the workout mat stinging against the skin there. He hovers over you, his hands and knees caging you in.

"Lay under me?" he says. "Because that's what it sounds like that's what you're saying. Is that what you want? To be under me?"

You blink up at him. This shouldn't feel as intimate as it does. Gaz is your workout buddy. You've been closer to him. Regularly.

It's the eye contact, isn't it? He looks hungry. Your gym buddy shouldn't be looking like he wants to devour you. He leans in closer, his eyes roving over you in a way you've never seen him do before. Obviously Gaz is an attractive guy--ridiculously so. But you've never seen him look at you like this. Your whole body is tingling with awareness.

You know you can put an end to this right now with a single comment. The fact that you don't want to is what makes his closeness feel new. If he were to lean down and kiss you right here on the gym mat, you would welcome it.

As if he can hear your thoughts, Gaz shifts again, leaning further over you. "I said, is that what you want?"

Your mouth is dry. Your tongue darts out go wet your lips and his eyes snap down to watch.

Your self-control wavers.

"Yeah," you tell him shortly. "Maybe I do."

Gaz's jaw sets. His body is tensing like a coiled spring. He is desperate to touch you. "Maybe isn't good enough," he grits out. His hand slides up from your hip to your waist, slipping under your shirt. "I want to hear yes."

nsfw ⬇

Your vision fogs a bit as his fingers graze the skin under your breasts. When he dragged you under him, you realize, the friction of the floor against your clothes rolled them up. Now your shorts and top are riding very high on your frame. He sees the way you're trembling, your hips writhing subtly under his touch. You're so exposed. It's so wrong. But he's enjoying the hell out of the view.

His hand disappears and he drops to his elbows, his hard body pressing up against yours. Your breath hitches. He chuckles. His mouth strays to your ear. 

"Easy," he breathes. "I'm not asking to have my way with you right here on the floor. I'm just asking for permission to touch you a little, yeah?"

Your heart clenches in your chest, catching oddly. "Oh, right. Y-Yeah."

"Sorry, are you disappointed?" His hand drifts back up your body, going straight to the elastic band of your sports bra. "Did you want me to take you right here? In this very public gym?"

You squirm as his thumb begins to work its way under the elastic. Your hands go to his chest, a rush of endorphins surging through you at the slight give of his form pectoral muscles under your fingers.

"I didn't say that," you tell him, voice still wavering more than you want it to. "Don't put words in my mouth."

"Oh, no, I'm just thinking out loud. You really need to watch your phrasing, boss. You're gonna make me think you're not as innocent as you like to act." His thumb rubs in slow circles over your soft skin as he speaks. "I’m just thinking about how cute you are when you're all flustered. And how pretty your eyes are. And how you’re not denying it.”

"You're the one who-- ah--" Your retort dies on your lips as his hand slips under your bra. His fingers run over your nipple, the rough texture of his callouses against the many nerve endings there making you jump.

He lets out a low groan of satisfaction when you respond so quickly to his touch. His forehead falls to your collarbone, trying to focus on you, on the sounds you're making. You're igniting his whole body. He squeezes your breast roughly, unable to help himself. He squeezes again when you squeak and he realizes just how much you like this, too. He tenses more and more with every breathless little jump and squeal.

You're barely aware of your own reactions. All you register is his hand on you and the heat in your face spreading down your neck and racing to your core.

His knee slides between your legs. It tears a ragged gasp from your throat. That only seems to encourage him, and he presses his body down harder over yours.

"You're so sensitive," he breathes out.

He grinds his knee up into you even more shamelessly, and you fist a handful of his tank top. "Wait," you protest. "Someone could walk in."

"So?" He growls, his voice suddenly rough. "Let them walk in and see. I'm not going to pretend I'm doing anything other than what you want--" His breath gets heavier as he shifts again, his knee easing back. Fuck, you're right. Someone is going to walk in any second. It's incredible nobody has already. This would be a compromising position to be found in, to put it very lightly. He's a senior officer over you. It looks bad for him to be over you.

Gaz forces his hand to still and pulls it out from under your shirt, swallowing. He sits up, dragging his gaze slowly down your body before he finally locks eyes with you again. Your clothes are in disarray; your chest is heaving; you're looking at him with such a debauched look in your eye he has to clench his hands into fists to keep them off you. Jesus. He's only touched one nipple and you already look like he's been fucking you. How are you real?

He grabs your hand and pulls you to your feet as he stands. "Come on, up."

"Where are we going?" you ask as he walks across the floor with your hand still in his grip. "Why did you stop?"

"We're going somewhere private." His grip stays firm as he drags you out through the front entrance. "And I stopped," he adds, "because you're going to get me in trouble if I keep going where we were."

"Wait." You tug his hand back as he pulls you past the entrance to the women's locker room and showers. "In here."

Gaz almost trips as your grip pulls him back.

"What?" His voice is an exasperated whisper.

But at your persistence, he lets you tow him over to the women's locker showers.

"What?" he repeats, this time quieter as he opens the door. "Are you--?"

But you step in after him, shutting the door behind you. Gaz's eyebrows go up.

"I guess you are."

"A lot less foot traffic in here. Enough time for a little hands-on training, right?" you say, pulling him further into the room. You start up one of the shower heads near the door, hoping the noise will cover up what you want to do. Then you strip your tank top and bra off in one swift motion, grabbing the hem of his shirt immediately after.

Gaz's throat goes dry at the sight of your exposed chest. He drinks in your body, his eyes roaming slowly and possessively. "Jesus, your body is-- fuck."

He grabs your hips and pushes you against the wash-tile in the nearest stall. You gasp at the cold of the tile on your naked back.

He runs his hands up your waist, groping your tits unabashedly. "We're way past hands-on training, love. That's your fault."

"My fault?"

"Yeah. Yours." Gaz's voice is rough with arousal. He hefts you up, grunting in satisfaction when your legs fasten around his waist. "You started this. You're the one who suggested laying under me. You didn’t have to say that. Did you think I was going to say no?"

You give him what is--somehow, even as you're naked from the waist up with your legs around him--a shy glance. "I didn't think you'd say yes."

His hands move up your legs, massaging your thighs then moving to your hips again. The way your body grips him, the way your legs squeeze him tightly to you--he's loving every goddamn inch of you.

"What do you expect a starving man to do when he's presented with a three-course meal right on the table?"

You scoff. "You are not starving."

"I'm starving for you," he grits out. "Don't be obtuse. God damn. You have no idea how often I’ve thought about getting my hands on you.” He rubs his fingers along the sensitive skin just over your waistband. “You have no idea just how much I’ve wanted to--”

He slides his hands up your body again, his fingertips tracing smooth undersides of your breasts. Even now he's holding back and his restraint is obvious. He could have you right now, pinned to the wall.

"I wanna devour you, you hear me? Every inch."

Your stomach flutters as his palms reach your ass and squeeze. You can't believe Gaz of all people wants you like this. "Is this gonna mess up our relationship as gym partners?"

"Probably. Definitely." He bites your earlobe the same place he bit it yesterday. This time, he laves his tongue against it. His breath is labored in your ear. "If you don't want that to happen. I need you to tell me." He rolls his hips against yours, groaning at the feeling of your heat through your thin workout shorts. "Right... right now."

"Is... is it wrong that I kinda want you to ruin it for the rest of time?"

"Good." He shifts one hand to run his fingers over the crux of your thighs from behind, making your back arch. "Because I'm going to destroy it beyond all reason."

...

part 1 / part 2 / [part 3] / part 4 / part 5

more Gaz / masterlist tag

[jazzyoranges]

Saw you take requests!! Can you do a fluffy Wednesday x Shape shifter!Reader (no smut please) where it's Wednesday's writing time but she can't think of ideas so reader turns into a cat and curls up on Wednesday's lap? Basically helping Wednesday by making sure Wednesday can't get up until she writes a chapter. Thanks!

Orange kitty - drabble

Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Words: 0.8k

A/n: i feel like we as a fandom haven’t been putting the orange cat x black cat trope in enough fics. this is me advocating for orange cat!r

“I feel your eyes on me, (Y/n).”

“I’m not allowed to look at my friend anymore?”

“It’s distracting. You’re inhibiting me from writing.” Wednesday isn’t fully lying. She just doesn’t add how you give her an odd feeling. An odd feeling she doesn’t like.

“Aww, do I make you nervous, Wens?” You laugh, deciding to ignore the glare she sends your way

“Keep talking and I’ll remove your voice box.”

“Please, I think you’d miss me too much” You roll your eyes, stretching on Wednesday’s bed

You turn into a cat as per Thing’s request, and you two start to play tag around Wednesday and Enid’s shared room. Thing happily bragged that you and him were better friends once. His hubris only resulted in Wednesday taking away his favorite lotions for an entire week.

The Addams girl huffs when she, yet again, makes a mistake on her typewriter. This was unlike her. The tiny trash can under her desk was nearing being full only after one or two hours of her failed attempts at writing. Wednesday put her hands in her lap after she realized her words only became futile

The abrupt stop of clacking keys makes you turn your head, giving Thing the perfect opportunity to tag you back on Enid’s bed. You quickly turn human again with almost a cartoon-ish pop, and ask Thing if Wednesday was allergic to cats

“She’s not, why do you ask?” He signs

“Do you think she’d kill me if I sat on her lap?” You sign back, not wanting Wednesday to hear

“As a human, most definitely. But if you were a cat maybe she’d tolerate you. No promises, though” Thing somehow shrugs using his thumb and pinkie finger as arms. God, you loved the weird appendage

“I can hear you two talking. I’d prefer if you’d leave me in silence.”

“Writers block?”

“No, I’m merely thinking of the correct words to use.”

“Maybe you should ask Enid for help. The woman can reach over the Twitter character limit in like… three seconds. Two if she’s really excited”

“Recommend such a horrid idea again and I’ll release you in my pen of hellhounds.”

“We both know I’d win” You cockily smirk, again ignoring what looks to be annoyance on Wednesday’s face. Then again, she always looked annoyed

“Your hubris is laughable. Let’s see how you suffice when your digestive system is ripped open.”

“Tempting, but I’d rather stay here with you”

You can only assume Thing listens with watchful… fingers? You execute your plan to him, and a quick pinkie-promise indicates he gets to bury you if Wednesday decides to kill you after the stunt you’re about to pull

“Hey, Wens?” The Addams doesn’t show any form of talking but you decide to keep going

“Did you know people say cats can lessen anxiety?”

The Addams hums in acknowledgement, so you continue

“Well, I don’t exactly believe it”

“And why is that.” Wednesday sighs. Sometimes she wonders why she indulges in you

“I dunno, just seems fake. I was wondering if you’d do an experiment with me?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Great! Thanks, Wens” You give Thing a quick wink after turning into a cat and hopping up onto her desk. Turning your head to the side as if you were asking a question, you looked at Wednesday for an answer

You were crazy, but not crazy enough to do something to make Wednesday hate you

For some reason, the Addams girl doesn’t even have a second chance to think before scooting back her chair. You’re about to jump into her lap with a paw over the edge of her desk, but you glance up to make sure Wednesday was sure. You receive a small nod

The action is enough to make you whisper a small “thank you” but it only comes out as a small meow

You circle around her lap for a good area to lay, and you quickly take your spot with a tiny smile that makes your eyes close. Wednesday scoots her chair back in, and she has absolutely no idea what to do.

Only when you start to purr a shiver goes up her spine. The vibrations are light, and something about you happily laying on her lap makes you chip away at Wednesday’s walls the tiniest bit. She contemplates where to put her hands before Thing scurries on top of you to scratch behind your ear. Wednesday shoots him a deathly glare in return, but your favorite Addams (don’t tell Wednesday) stays put

As if showing Wednesday how to pet a cat, Thing gets off of your back and points a finger in your direction. Hesitantly, the Addams girl copies the actions Thing showed her

And you? You were having an amazing time. Wednesday’s fingers were cold but every stroke of her hand was calculated. She took note of which spots you purred louder, and continued her movements

Fuck you and your ability to get what you want, Wednesday thinks. Of course your smug ass knew cats lessened anxiety. Of course.

But Wednesday can’t help being addicted to your tiny purrs and vibrations

With her left hand fondling your ear and her right on her typewriter, she decides maybe a cat could be arranged in her novel.

[xoamiiren]

I SEA YOU, ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 jelly fish vs. goldfish

𖥔 PRECIS. In which, Jungwon realizes he loves you far more than the oceans he studies. PAIRING. marine bio major bf!jungwon x painting major gf!reader GENRE. fluff, friends to lovers WARNINGS. skinship, mild kissing

ren note ୨୧ this was incredibly cute to write.

─────────

Journal Entry O1: July 3rd

There’s something quietly cinematic about the way Jungwon moves through the world, his sneakers worn, frayed laces dragging against the ground, and his sea creature t-shirts thin and faded from too many washes clinging to his skin. His fingers are always curled around the strap of his camera, the weight of it a comforting presence on his chest. A worn tote bag slung over his shoulder carrying scribbled journals and books on marine life., and a different marine creature hangs from the strap on a keychain. His quiet eyes—cat-like and sharp—seem to study everything around him with an intensity he doesn’t speak aloud.

But today, like every day you’re near, his gaze rises — he notices you. You sit on a sun-warmed bench, sketchbook balanced on your knee, your hand lost in a flurry of movements. Y/N, a painting major, a dreamer. You wear flowy skirts that swish gently with the breeze, intricate crochet tops that speak of warmth and softness, your belly piercing always peeking out under the sun. You were always surrounded by a halo of color — paint smudged on your hands, your cheeks, even a few streaks on your pretty clothes.

Today, you were sketching jellyfish. And today, Jungwon feels the courage, unlike most days to approach. Without thinking, shy and hesitant, yet driven by something he doesn’t quite understand.

“Jellyfish actually have...,” his voice is soft as his finger hovers over your sketchbook., correcting a tiny detail with a shy shake of his head. You pause, you blink, and you smile too, wide and beautiful. A beautiful, full smile that makes Jungwon’s heart stumble in his chest. You change the drawing without hesitation, based on his correction, like it mattered to you.

You think he’s cute. Jungwon thinks You’re breathtaking.

⋆｡°✩🪼

Journal Entry O2: July 5th

You cross paths again, in that unintentional, serendipitous way two people bound by an invisible string tend to do.

In the bustling hallway, Jungwon notices you first, again — catching sight of the familiar sway of your lacy skirt. The soft yellow paint smudge on your cheek standing out like a tiny splash of life in the world around you. You notices him too, this time, catching sight of the new little keychain that hangs from his bag. A dolphin.

You say nothing at first, only stare at him until he feels your eyes on him. With the gentleness of someone handling glass, he reaches out and brushes the paint off your cheek with the pad of his thumb, pulling away just as fast. He doesn’t say a word. He never does. He never knows what to say, but your smile says enough for the both of you. Your eyes drop to his bag, noticing the whale keychain.

You exchange no words, but in that quiet moment, Jungwon feels a connection forming, like the pull of the tide. His eyes seem to soften, studying you not as something distant, but something he could grow closer to.

⋆｡°✩🐙

Journal Entry O3: July 7th

“Tell me an ocean fact.”

Your voice comes with the breeze, fluttering toward him as he sits alone on the stone wall, camera resting in his lap. Jungwon lifts his eyes, squinting against the sun, startled, and just… stares. His mouth opens, then closes. He can’t seem to find any words. The moment lingers awkwardly, but you just laugh, a light sound like wind chimes, and walks away with a wave.

He feels embarrassed, even hours later, as the memory of your request gnaws at him. He should have said something. Thinking of all the ocean facts he knows, which would you find the coolest? He wanted to be cool to you.

The next day, as you leave your class, Jungwon catches you by the sleeve.

“Squids have three hearts…” His words are rushed, awkward, but earnest, and he holds up three fingers as if to demonstrate.

You’re stunned. He’s scared. His chocolate orbs were blown wide, studying your reaction with nervous intensity. Your eyes light up, and you find it adorable that he remembered to tell you a simple fact — and that he had chased you down to share it.

Before walking away, he reaches into his tote bag and pulls out something small. A squid keychain. It dangles from his fingers, delicate and clear.

“For you,” he murmurs, his cheeks flushed as he hands it to you. You take it with a soft thank you, attaching it to your own bag immediately.

When you look up, he’s gone again.

Jungwon feels something warm unfurling in his chest.

⋆｡°✩🐬

Journal Entry O4: July 9th

Jungwon doesn’t talk much, but he begins to open up to you, little by little.. You talk enough for both of you. Your stories spill out like paint from a tube, vivid and chaotic. But somehow you're still always charming.

And he listens, smiling quietly to himself as you walk across campus, or when you walk together after class, the squid keychain now dangling from your bag. He likes listening as you speak with your hands. Your hands always smudged with paint, your sketchbook always bulging with papers and doodles. You always lead the conversation with ease.

Always…

One day, as you sit together on the grass, Jungwon notices that you smell like lavender and something sweet, while you notice that Jungwon smells faintly of citrus, and that his soft sandy locks catch the sun in a way that makes your heart stutter.

You like the way he stares out at the world, thoughtful and observant, always just a little bit removed but never distant. Jungwon likes the way your lips curl when you laugh, full and soft, your joy infectious. He likes the way your hands are always working on something creative, bringing beauty into the world with every stroke of your pencil or brush.

He finds himself wanting to be part of your world, even if it means just quietly standing by your side.

⋆｡°✩ 🦀

Journal Entry O5: July 10th

The aquarium was Jungwon’s idea, though he mumbled the invitation, unsure of how to ask.

“Want to go to the aquarium?”

The question came unexpectedly one afternoon, as you parted ways after class. His voice is small, barely there, but you hear it. You always hear him… You say yes. He’s surprised you said yes.

You wander the quiet halls of the aquarium. You walk in silence at first, but it’s the comfortable kind, your pinkies brushing every so often until, near the shark exhibit, Jungwon’s fingers finally curl around yours and you both look straight ahead into the glass covered ocean before you.

Later, under the glass bridge, where the ocean swirls above you, Jungwon kisses you, soft and hesitant, his lips barely brushing yours before he pulls away, cheeks burning. You blush too, but he chases your lips for another taste, a quiet desperation in his eyes that makes your heart leap.

Even later, you kiss again in secret, more firm this time, hidden by the dim light of the jellyfish tanks, your glowing forms casting an ethereal light on your flushed faces.

Jungwon decides he likes kissing you.

You decide you like being kissed by Jungwon.

⋆｡°✩ 🐠

Journal Entry O6: July 12th

Your dates are small and sweet. You bring him to the museum, where you explain the brushstrokes of paintings with the same enthusiasm Jungwon has for sea creatures. Jungwon listens, his eyes always observing, always studying you as you talk, as if memorizing every detail of your face.

In turn, he takes you to the beach, where you roll up your skirt and Jungwon, his pants, splashing through the shallow waves like kids. You kiss in the sand, salt on your lips and in your hair, your head resting on his chest as you lie under the vast sky.

One afternoon, you visit the pet store. A tiny goldfish catches Jungwon’s eye, its golden scales glittering under the light. You watch him, the way he presses his hands to the glass, his eyes wide with wonder. Without thinking twice, he buys the fish, and you bring it to his home together, its little bowl nestled in Jungwon’s arms.

⋆｡°✩ 🦑

Journal Entry O7: July 14th

In his new apartment, you spend afternoons tangled together on his mattress on the floor, you doodle little fish on Jungwon’s arm, your pen gliding over his skin in lazy strokes while he lies back on the thin sheets, watching you with soft eyes. The fan whirs above you, your thin clothes sticking to your skin as the summer heat seeps through the open window.

“I believe in mermaids,” he whispers one day, his voice barely audible over the fan as he rests his head on the plushness of your thighs, staring up at you like the stars in the sky.

You turn from the window, head down to look at him, curious.

“I think you’re a mermaid.”

Your lips part in surprise before breaking into a grin. And for the first time, you lean down to kiss him, with all the gentleness of the tide washing over the shore, your hand cupping his cheek. Jungwon’s heart swells in his chest…

Jungwon loves you.

And you, you love Jungwon too.

[jayke0]

And They Were Roommates

Pairing: Marc Spector x fem reader

Summary: You catch your roommate, Marc, having some private time, and it's only when he comes at the sight of you that something inside you is released.

Rating: nsfw, smut

Warnings/Content: Friends to lovers?, Male masturbation, fluffy/soft sex, Marc being insecure at first cuz he hasn't had his chode ridden in a while, some nipple play (f receiving), protected sex (pill), mention of female masturbation, p in v, breeding if you squint, creampie, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).

Word count: 2,275

A/N: Uhmmmm so i accidentally posted this too early, so if you see it please reblog so it reaches others! Thankyouuuu

Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.

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Marc Spector had always found himself to be a very private man. You're lucky to have even gotten a glimpse at his phone that one time, given how precisely he guards what little personal belongings he has and hides his emotions behind a stone-cold glare.

That's why he always waits for you to go out before he touches himself.

He'd gotten into the habit of it after realizing the wall dividing your bedrooms is so paper thin that he could hear every word the character was saying on whatever show you'd been watching at the time.

The anticipation; the waiting was always the worst. You'd take your sweet sweet time getting ready and checking your shopping list, only to forget something and come back 2 minutes later; luckily, he'd gotten used to that part too. Though, as much as he pretended he hated it, he actually found it quite endearing; a little quirk of yours that made you so fucking adorable to him.

“I'll be back in an hour!” Marc hears your voice echo through the hall, simply responding with a grunt that was somewhere along the lines of ‘alright’. He hears that first front door slam and waits a couple of minutes, before excitedly scrambling to his bedroom, cock already twitching at the prospect of release.

He'd had a particularly hard few days (pun intended), and with you deciding you didn't want to venture out, he was left to let his mind wander, only to blueball-ball himself in the process.

He's quick to grab his earphones and settle down comfortably in his bed, pulling his t-shirt off swiftly and practically ripping his jeans off. It doesn't take long before he's got his cock in hand, fisting his throbbing length harshly as girly moans fill his ears and do wonders for his imagination.

Oh, how he tries not to think about you. He knows It's creepy, and he knows that if you found out you'd probably kick him out with nothing but the clothes on his back, but it's so hard. His thumb swipes over the tip, collecting the beads of precum and spreading it over himself.

You're always so perfect, so gorgeous. The sun always seems to land on your face beautifully and illuminate each of your features. He twists his hand expertly and pulls a string of breathy gasps from his chest as he squeezes the tip.

The way you walk through the living room in just a towel, dripping wet; it's almost like you're tempting him.

He's now frantically thrusting into his hand at the image in his mind, low moans and growls escaping through his gritted teeth as his head tilts back and the tendons in his neck bulge at the stretch. That coil is tightening faster that he can control, his brain foggy with thoughts of you, just you you you. The thoughts are so close that he swears he can hear you calling his name, begging him to ruin your cunt and fill you u–.

A cold feeling runs through his body as his head shoots up, his eyes meeting your shocked gaze. Unfortunately for him, that's exactly what he needed as he's sent tumbling over the edge. Hot white ropes spill from his ruddy tip and splatter across his toned chest, huffed moans and curses falling from his lips as he fucks his hand through his orgasm.

It's only when he finally opens his eyes again that the guilt hits him and he scrambles to pull his boxers back up, trying to put his still throbbing cock away.

“Fuck, I'm so sorry, didn't realise you were there! I- I had my headphones in–.” He pulls them out, trying to wipe the evidence of his sins off of his chest, but your soft hand stops him; yes, you had gotten closer.

You watch as his dark eyes trail up your arm to your face, a cocktail of dread, fear, and… something else, all brewing in his gaze; it makes you want him even more.

“I'm not mad, Marc.”

“Creeped out, then?...”

Your thumb runs over his knuckles, feeling how warm and soft his hands are. “No. I mean, I probably should be, but fuck,” your eyes are drawn to his twitching length fighting against the restraints of his tight boxers. Carefully, you crawl onto the bed, straddling his legs far enough away from his body so he can push you off if he's uncomfortable.

You inch closer to him, “ ‘s this ok?” Hands either side of his thighs, your words are soft and breathy, your eyes gazing at him with a look that is sickeningly sweet.

It makes his head wurl, a tight feeling constricting in his chest as the prettiest girl in the world sits virtually in his lap. “Yes–” his voice breaks, making you chuckle softly. “Yeah, it's more than ok.” His heart feels like it's going to beat out of his chest, and you feel it as you place your hands on his chest to shuffle closer to him.

“You looked so handsome like that, Marc.” You compliment with a smile, leaning in to brush your lips across his and feel him take in a sharp breath. He catches your lips and pecks them with adoration, letting a longer kiss linger on them as you press closer to him still. After a few seconds, he moves his hands to rest on your waist, one running up your back to cup the back of your head as he runs his tongue along the seam of your mouth, and you happily oblige.

Months worth of feelings are poured into the kiss, both of you slowly and softly lapping and sucking at each other's lips before you dissolve into panting messes, biting and licking fiercely as if trying to eat each other whole.

“God damn, Spector, you're a great kisser,” you giggle softly, pulling from his lips to appreciate the shiny and red mess you'd made of him. A familiar growl rumbles in his chest, one that you'd learnt was an appreciative noise rather than something to be put off by.

“You can talk, y'know. You're not gonna scare me off.”

Briefly, you see insecurity paint across his face. It's something that you'd never seen before, a small crack in the otherwise solid structure of his frigid expression. On instinct, you brush his curls from his forehead and cup his cheeks, “I trust you, Marc, it's ok. I'm not here to judge you.”

His shoulders seem to relax as he nods a little, “I'm sorry. I don't do this often, if you hadn't noticed.”

You laugh softly and pat his chest, “that's ok, neither do I,” you smile as you sit back on your heels and pull your t-shirt off over your head. You take his hands gently and place them on your breasts, “none of them were you.”

You swear that you see him change in that moment, your words sinking in and his eyes turning hungry. His thumbs run over your hardening nipples as he surges forwards to seize you in another burning kiss that has you hot and breathless this time.

“Jesus, Marc…” a soft whine is pulled from your lips as he glides his lips down and over your neck, focusing on the pulse point below your jaw by nibbling and sucking softly. He's surprisingly quick at unclasping your bra, and he pulls away a little to admire your body.

“Shit, you're gorgeous,” he mumbles, thumbs running underneath your boobs before they work up and run across your nipples, making a gasp get caught in your throat. “You always have been gorgeous. I always look at you and think ‘fuck how doesn't she have a boyfriend yet?’”

“ ‘Cause I've been waiting to fuck my roommate…” You chuckle softly, feeling him chuckle too as his head dips to your chest and he takes your nipple into his mouth, tongue sliding over and swirling around the hard bud in a way that leaves you grinding against his thigh. Suddenly, your jeans feel so restricting, like they're choking you, stopping you from appreciating any pleasure that Marc offers you, which is why you're quick to unbutton them and slip them off… All while your roommate sucks on your tits.

“God. Do you know how many times I've touched myself hoping you’d catch me?” Your words are breathless as your body rolls against his mouth and a pleased noise from the man reverberates over your nipple. “Left my door open just a crack in hopes my moans would grab your attention, and you'd come and fuck me right…”

He audibly groans at that, pulling away to look at you again while his hands travel to your waistband.

”You don't know how long I've been waiting to hear that.”

He hungrily pulls your underwear down your thighs and off with his own following soon after, leaving you both naked and messily grinding against each other as you're caught up in yet another kiss.

You glance down eventually, being treated with the glorious sight of his thick cock throbbing and spilling pre-cum… Or maybe it's cum from his previous orgasm, either way it makes you clench your toes.

“It's bigger when I'm this close,” a nervous chuckle leaves your lips.

“I know, I know. That's also why I don't fuck much.” He laughs breathily and grips his length at the base, running it between your sopping folds and circling your clit perfectly. You grind down on his tip with a moan and pant.

“We don't have too, if you don't want to.” He reminds softly, pressing a few more kisses on your jaw, but you're quick to shake your head and grip his shoulders, “I need you inside me, Marc. Needed it since the day i fucking met you.”

You certainly don't have to tell him twice.

He's sinking inside you before you can even process his tip probing your hole. It's such a delicious stretch, one that spreads throughout your body and along your nerves. You sink down on him further, wanting to sheath him inside you whole.

You'd like to think that Marc knows you're on birth control, given the endless packets and the way you often rant to him about the imperfections of the drug. You're hoping he knows this, because you're hoping he cums inside you.

“Fucking hell Marc, shit…” You pant softly and look down between your bodies, your hands holding onto his shoulders As he grips your waist and guides you; down down down till you're sat in his lap.

You feel so full like that, and honestly you could probably just roll your hips and cum right there, but it's not long before your roommate is lifting you off of himself just to impale you once again. A rush of pleasure runs through your veins and makes your cunt clench around the girth, both of you groaning as you capture his lips again.

“Dammit… you're lucky you're hot, or I would've kicked you out–ah- for being a creep–”

“You were the one watching me stroke my fucking cock. You liked it deep down.” The man growls on your lips, making a whimper rise in your throat as you nod a little, dumbly. His breath is hot on your lips, each of your moans being swallowed by laboured gasps from the other as his hips rock up.

Although the pace isn't fast, you already feel wrecked. The stretch is so fucking good, and the way he hits your sweet spot everytime has you weak at the knees for this man, your groans turning into gasps and drawn out moans.

“M-arc, honey, I'm not gonna last much longer…” You whine pathetically, but this only makes him move faster, now bringing you down on his cock as he thrusts up harshly and sends waves of pleasure through you as he does so. “That's it, baby. Wanna feel you cum All over my cock; cum all over your roommate's cock… shit, you're so filthy, sweetheart.”

His words have your nails digging into his shoulders, your thighs burning as they finally give up and you let Marc use you, use your cunt for his own damn pleasure. The whole idea has you arching your back, and finally, with your shaky fingers circling your clit, you go crashing over that edge. Your thighs instantly clench together as whorish moans are pulled from your lungs and fill the room, ecstasy washing over you in waves and taking you to a place that you didn't even know existed, not until Marc.

Your clenching cunt is what finishes Marc off, that and the beautiful sounds you make as you come. Your walls milk him dry, taking every drop from him and more as he fills your cunt with that delicious warmth.

You sink back down on him finally and practically collapse into his chest, your arms wrapping around His torso tightly as you try and catch your breath.

The warmth that spreads through Marc's heart in that moment is almost unbearable. It's a feeling he's wanted for a long time, one that he doesn't even know how long will last, but he's sure as hell is not gonna waste it worrying.

You feel his large arms wrap around you tightly, a kiss placed on your shoulder, and then his warm breath sending goosebumps over the back of your neck as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Never took you as a cuddler, Marc Spector.” You mumble softly into his chest, listening to the rhythmic thump of his heart as it slows to a comforting pace.

“I'm full of surprises, sweetheart.”

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Tags 🖤: @boredzillenial @cowboymarcs @chichimisaki @faretheeoscar @fanofstuffidk @minigirl87 @marisferasiop @red-hydra @summonthesoups @steven-grants-world @queerponcho @ominoose @mynamesstevenwithav @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @cupidysm @clemdango04 @flowercrownonapegion @spxctorsslxt

[iveleftitwithyou]

casual | paul lahote x reader smut

NSFW | 18+ | minors DNI | word count: 2.38k

warnings: smut, dom!paul, slight angst, mention of fighting, i think that's it?

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i asked you guys if i should post this now or incorporate it into ruderal, and the result was overwhelmingly to post it now, so here it is with some plot adjustments! i've been OBSESSED with this song by chappell roan and knew i needed to make it into an imagine, although this song is probably about a woman lol. highly recommend listening to the song as you read this. this is my first time EVER writing smut so i hope its not too bad - as always, let me know what you think :)

ALSO this is in an alternate timeline where the guys are all like 21+ and so is y/n :)

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Paul’s hand lingered on your thigh as he drove the winding road back to Forks, his thumb rubbing small circles on your outer leg. the radio hummed with a song you couldn’t manage to pay attention to, instead focusing your gaze on the motion of his finger on your bare thigh. while you assumed the gesture was meant to comfort you, it did a lot more than that. you hoped that the darkness would obscure Paul’s peripheral vision enough for him to not realize you were ogling his muscular arms and unusually large hands. his veins protruded in a way that drove you crazy for some reason, and as much as you were still upset with him, you couldn’t help the rush of hormones that flooded at the sight.

Embry had made some stupid joke about you at the bonfire at Emily's that night, a common occurrence when you hung out with the pack. he didn’t mean anything by it, you joked around with each other like that all the time, but Paul had been extra sensitive for the last few weeks as he spent more hours on patrol. Victoria’s looming presence and the mystery murders happening around Washington meant the reservation needed increased protection, and the men in the pack had to step up. Embry’s comment led to a fight where the pair both phased, snarling and snapping until they both came to their senses and things went back to normal. you hated when Paul shifted because of you, even if it was just indirectly your fault like it was tonight. 

you two were meant to be casual, despite Paul having imprinted on you, as you had just gotten out of a long-term relationship and weren’t ready to commit to someone again. you’d been seeing each other casually for months, hanging out, and getting to know each other better. as much as you were hesitant to let him into your life completely, you couldn’t deny your attraction to Paul. he’d been nothing but a gentleman thus far, bringing you flowers on dates, opening doors for you, and following your boundaries to a T, terrified to mess anything up with you. of course, his physical form was unlike anything you’d ever seen - you were lucky that he preferred to hang out without a shirt on. things had gotten hot and heavy between you two a few times but hadn’t gone farther than some very intense making out. though, the way Paul’s hand touched you now was enough for you to throw those boundaries out the window; you wanted him - no, needed him.

you focused your eyes back on the road in front of you, only being able to see as far as the truck’s dim headlights illuminated. breathe in, breathe out, you reminded yourself, trying to calm down the butterflies in your stomach. you were unsuccessful, and it didn’t help that Paul’s hand was inching closer and closer to your hips.

suddenly, his hand snaked further inward and his grip tightened, engulfing your inner thigh. your breath hitched, and you unsuccessfully tried to mask it as a cough. you saw Paul smirk out of the corner of your eye, but he didn’t look over at you. 

you once again reminded yourself to breathe as the ache between your legs became more apparent. his hand loosened its grip and continued its journey towards your core. half of you thought about stopping him purely as punishment for fighting with Embry, but the much louder other half wouldn’t dream of it right now.

you couldn’t help but let out a small groan as his hand finally reached your jean shorts, his fingers tracing the seam that ran between your legs. the slight pressure he applied drove you absolutely crazy as you wished for more friction.

the sound that escaped your lips seemed to do something to Paul as he let out a breathy groan of his own. “alright, that’s it,” he mumbled, turning the wheel toward the side of the road. he must have known exactly where you were because he easily pulled the truck behind a set of bushes that obscured most of it from the road. any passerbys, which were few and far between at this time of night anyway, wouldn’t notice the vehicle.

almost as soon as he slammed the gear shift into park, his lips were on yours. he kissed you with a passion you’d never felt before. you melted into his lips, reminding yourself for the third time that night that if you didn’t start breathing, you would pass out. he gripped the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair as you continued to make out. his other hand traveled down your arm, to your hip, and unbuckled the seatbelt you’d been wearing. in one swift, but slightly awkward motion, he disconnected your lips for a brief moment and grabbed each side of your hips, pulling you across the center console onto his lap. you were careful not to lean too far and hit the horn with your back as you settled onto him, silently thanking Paul for owning such a spacious truck. your knees settled on either side of his legs. 

as you sat down on his lap, you brushed his hardening length with the same seam of your shorts his hand was just on, eliciting a quiet moan from both of you. impatient, Paul once again gripped your scalp and slammed your lips together. you allowed your hands to slip underneath the hem of his shirt, feeling the outline of the muscles on his bare abdomen. this feeling, combined with the warmth radiating from his bare skin, drove you insane. 

“take- it- off-” you mumbled in between kisses, tugging the hem upwards. you were unsure of where the forwardness came from, but you didn’t stop long enough to be embarrassed. 

“you don’t get to tell me what to do,” he snarked half-jokingly but obliged.

the moonlight streaming in from the windshield was just enough for you to be able to see the outline of his pecs and abs, and you really couldn’t help but stare.

“like what you see?” he chuckled, noticing your eyes widening at his physique.

you nodded, unable to form words, instead opting to smash your lips back together with all of the strength you could muster. you’d had enough of looking flustered - you wanted to take initiative.

you raised your hips again, pushing your abdomen against Paul's and lowering yourself onto his member. you rocked your hips back and forth as he moved his lips down your cheek, then your jaw, and eventually to your neck. the friction as you continued to grind against him elicited a low growl against your neck as his lips attached to your skin. you moaned embarrassingly loudly as he sucked at the delicate skin, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be sheepish. in fact, the only emotion surging through your body right now was pure desire for the god-like man leaving a series of hickeys on your neck.

“Paul, that’s gonna leave a mark,” you whined. you knew you’d regret letting him do it in the morning but right now you wanted nothing more than for him to mark you as his. you wanted to be his.

“don’t want anyone else getting any ideas. you’re all mine,” he retorted, lifting his head up to look you in the eyes. his were almost completely black with lust. “say it.” he commanded, holding your jaw tightly in his hand. “say you’re mine.”

“i’m all yours, Paul” you panted, your hips continuing to move back and forth on Paul’s lap as you stared into his dark eyes. despite your relationship still being undefined, truer words had never been spoken.

“good girl. now shut the fuck up and get back in the passenger seat.” his harsh words did nothing to discourage you from obeying as you scrambled to sit back where you were a few minutes prior. this was a side of Paul you had only seen when he was angry: dark, commanding, dominating. usually, you would have to try to calm him down when he got like this, but right now, you were very much enjoying him telling you what to do. you already missed the warmth of his body on yours as you climbed back over to the other seat, but you instinctually knew better than to voice your complaints right now.

Paul leaned across the console, reaching his hand between your knees and under the seat to move it back as far as it would go. once he was satisfied with that, he reached across your lap and pulled the reclining handle, his other hand helping to lower the seat back slowly so you weren’t sent flying backward.

“scooch back” he ordered again, and you moved your hips backward on the seat, supporting yourself with your elbows on the very edge of the seat near the headrest.

you were confused as he opened the driver-side door and hopped out of the truck. you watched as he opened the passenger-side door, it becoming clear now what his plan was. you pulled your knees towards your chest as he climbed back in, kneeling on the floor mat in front of you. god damn, this truck was spacious, and you were incredibly grateful for that right now.

his large hands fumbled to unbutton your shorts. he pulled the zipper down and you lifted your hips, followed by your legs, so he could slide them off. not wanting to wait another second, he pulled your underwear to the side and connected his thumb to your clit. you let out a loud gasp at the sensation and he chuckled proudly, knowing how good he was making you feel. Paul rubbed small, tight circles on the sensitive nub for a few seconds before you felt a finger dip into your wet folds. a guttural moan escaped your throat as you finally got the sensation you had been waiting for since his hand had rested on your thigh earlier in the night.

he added a second finger shortly after and continued to pump in and out of your heat, his thumb continuing its circular motions on your clit. you could feel your orgasm building inside of your core, and it was almost euphoric knowing it was Paul making you feel like this.

“Paul, i’m gonna-” you moaned, getting close to the edge. “what the fuck?” he’d removed his fingers altogether upon hearing this and you were not happy about it. 

“patience, princess.” he chuckled, making eye contact with you once again as he raised his fingers to his mouth to taste you on them. you were still pissed at him for teasing you like that, but the sound he made as he licked your wetness off himself almost made it worth it. almost.

“let’s take these off, shall we? or should i rip them off?” his fingers slipped under the waistband of your underwear.

“don’t you dare,” the one rational brain cell you had left replied, lifting your hips for him to slide them off like he did the shorts. you liked this pair. Paul held your hips back down as he spread your legs open, leaning his torso over the seat until you could feel his breath between your legs, amplified by the wetness that had come with the teasing.

“god, you look so fucking good” he took a second to admire the sight before him before he groaned lustfully and connected his tongue to your cunt. he made quick work of finding all the right spots to hit, causing your legs to tremble and your eyes to roll back in your head. at this rate, you wouldn’t last long, but you never wanted this moment to end.

“oh, fuck,” you moaned as he continued to circle the sensitive nub with his tongue. you had never felt this connected to someone before, not any of your exes. no one had ever made you feel as good as Paul was in this moment. as he continued the motions of his tongue, you realized Paul was perfect for you in every way, including this one. it was like pre-nut clarity.

you felt the pressure building up again, somehow even stronger than last time, unable to contain your moans. “fuck, Paul, i’m gonna cum” you groaned, arching your back against the seat as Paul continued to hold your hips down harshly against it. you figured there would be bruises there tomorrow, and the thought of him marking you up even more only exacerbated your growing orgasm.

“cum for me, princess” Paul mumbled against your clit, giving you permission to let go. it only took a couple more swipes for you to come completely unglued against his mouth.

Paul gradually slowed down his motions, guiding you through your orgasm as your hips attempted to buck against his face, craving the stimulation. eventually, your brain started to function again, and the first thing you thought was that that was definitely the best orgasm you’d ever had. you couldn’t tell Paul that, though - it would boost his ego way too much, and he already had a huge one to begin with. the second thought that went through your head was that you were ready for Paul to be your boyfriend. no man could eat you out that good and get away from you.

he admired his work as you panted in front of him, a smirk of pride on his face. he loved knowing he was the one who made you feel so good. he raised himself up on his knees to hover over you, one arm resting on the seat to support himself as the other snaked behind your back to pull you to his chest. you wrapped your arms around his back, settling your face in the crook of his neck. your breaths were soon in time with each other, basking in the body heat radiating from the both of you.

you could have stayed like that forever, but after a few minutes, Paul pulled back slightly to look you in the eyes. he seemed deep in thought before he smiled and opened his mouth to ask you a simple question: “is it casual now?”

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part 2 here :)

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

along for the ride

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count:

summary: when joel finds out tommy put out a craigslist ad to get him a date for valentine’s day, he doesn’t expect it to go as well as it does.

author’s note: i finally finished something! was it anything from my extensive wip list? no! don’t think about it too hard! anyways, if you enjoy this fic, please consider giving it a reblog, a comment, or dropping into my ask box 💕

warnings/tags: explicit sexual content (18+ minors dni), no use of y/n, pre-outbreak!joel miller, no mentions of sarah, little shit!tommy miller, blind date, internet safety whomst, vaginal fingering, oral sex, woman on top, p in v, dirty talk, pet names. let me know if i’ve missed any!

“I have a surprise for you,” Tommy says at dinner. Joel pauses, fork scraping against his plate.

“That can’t be good,” he sighs. “What now?”

“Why do you assume it’s somethin’ bad?”

“Last time you said you had a surprise for me, I had chickens in my backyard.”

Tommy laughs. “It’s nothin’ like that this time.”

“Well, then, spit it out,” Joel demands.

Tommy reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper that he opens on the table, smoothing out the creases before sliding it over to Joel.

“Reservation confirmation?” Joel reads. He recognizes the name of the restaurant, the kind of place where the waiters dress in all black and the menu doesn’t have prices listed beside the items. 

“Yep. I got you your first Valentine’s Day date,” Tommy replies proudly. Joel glares at him.

“What do you mean?”

seeking valentine

36M looking to treat a lady to a date to remember. pic attached. email tmill@aol.com with a pic and bio for consideration.

[img01.jpg]

You’re half a bottle of wine deep when you stumble across the Craigslist ad. When you click on the picture, your interest is further piqued by the handsome man that appears on the screen. He’s standing in front of a black pick up truck dressed in jeans and a t-shirt that stretches across his tan muscles. His brown hair is cut short, just enough length for you to notice that it’s beginning to curl across his forehead and by his neck. His beard frames a bright smile that crinkles the corners of his dark eyes.

Whoever he is, he’s hot. He’d be the perfect way to get over being dumped two weeks ago by your boyfriend of two years.

Your logic was lost somewhere between your second and third glasses of wine, which is why you click on the e-mail address in the ad and start typing. The reply is normal, at first, facts about yourself like your name and age and occupation, but you quickly end up derailing the message with an explanation about why this handsome guy should pick you, making sure to include that you’ve already got a reservation at a popular restaurant for the occasion. The picture you add is a recent photo from a cousin’s wedding that your aunt had e-mailed to you. 

Before you can think better of it, you click send. You take one last look at the man’s photo before shutting your laptop and stumbling off to bed to dream of brown eyes and tan skin.

Joel taps his fingers against the white tablecloth, eyes fixed on the door of the restaurant. This is stupid, he thinks. Why did he agree to this? Why did he let Tommy convince him this was a good idea? He should have just told him no and been done with it but somehow he’s here, sitting at a table for two in a fancy restaurant and feeling like a sore thumb in the only suit he owns. 

He’s lost enough in his thoughts that he doesn’t see you when you first come in, doesn’t realize you’re here until the hostess is walking up with you close behind in a beautiful dress and he suddenly remembers exactly why he agreed to Tommy’s idiot scheme. 

“Joel?” You ask. He stands, nearly knocking the table in his haste to greet you. You lean in for a brief hug and he catches the warm vanilla scent of you before you pull away and smile at him. 

He rounds the table to pull your chair out for you and makes sure you’re settled before returning to his seat. A waiter swoops by to offer the wine menu and explain the pre fixe menu for the evening while he pours two complimentary glasses of champagne into the crystal glasses beside your plates. An awkward silence settles when he leaves, Joel’s leg bouncing anxiously beneath the table as he tries to think of something to say.

“This is weird, right?” You finally say. “This feels weird.”

Joel breathes a sigh of relief. “That’s just what I was thinkin’.”

"Oh, thank god." You take a long sip of your champagne. "I can't believe I actually responded to a Craigslist ad for a date."

"I can't believe my stupid brother came up with this whole thing," Joel replies. "I could'a killed him."

Your eyes go wide. "Wait, your brother made the post? Why?!"

"He seems to think that at thirty-six, I should have had a date for Valentine's Day by now," Joel explains. "Why did you respond to the ad?"

"I had been drinking a lot of wine and having a lot of feelings and the internet was unfortunately not helping the situation."

Joel laughs, tension leaving his shoulders as he does. "We're an interestin' pair, huh?"

"Cheers to that," you reply, lifting your glass for him to tap his against with a gentle clink. 

As the dinner progresses, the conversation starts to flow with surprising ease. No topic goes untouched, from jobs to hobbies to a long list of favorites. When you’ve exhausted those topics, you move on to swapping stories about your friends and families. By the time he finishes paying a hefty check (and declining your offer to split the cost), Joel feels like he’s known you for a lifetime.

"I had a really nice time, Joel.”

"Me, too," he replies. Christ, you're pretty, bright eyed as you look at him with a soft smile. He reaches for your hand, pulling you closer until your chest brushes his and can wrap an arm around your waist. "This okay?"

"Mhm," you hum with a little nod. Joel's gaze drops to your mouth and he finds himself wondering what your pretty lips would feel like as he kissed you. Would he be able to taste that chocolate torte from dessert on your tongue?

“Joel?” You whisper. He didn’t even realize how close he’s gotten, a few scant inches separating you now. “Are you going to kiss me or not?”

He chuckles. “You want me to?”

“Please.”

Joel kisses you, warm lips moving in perfect harmony with yours. It’s chaste, until it’s not. It’s chaste, until his tongue sweeps against your bottom lip and dips inside to tangle with yours. It’s chaste, until his hands are pulling you closer with a tight grip on your hips and—

“Get a room!” 

You break apart, startled by the shout from someone passing by on the sidewalk. You can’t stop the laugh that breaks free, your shoulders shaking with the force of it.

“You wanna get out of here?” Joel asks. “I can walk you to your car.”

“I took a cab, actually.”

Joel smirks. “You want a ride, sweetheart?” 

Your face grows hot from the look in his eyes, the double meaning to his words not lost. He holds a hand out and you slip your palm against his, fingers folding together so that he can lead you to the parking lot down the street from the restaurant.

Joel opens the passenger door of the truck you recognize from the photo in the ad, helping you step up into the cab and going so far as to pull the seatbelt down, reaching across your body to fasten it. He looks up at as he pulls away, hand dragging across your stomach and making you shiver.

He shuts the door and gets in the driver’s seat, pulling out of the parking lot and following your directions toward your apartment. At the first red light, he settles his broad palm on your thigh, just above your knee, giving you a little squeeze. Feeling bold, you spread your legs the tiniest bit and Joel takes the invitation for what it is, sliding his hand higher. 

The light turns green and the sudden movement presses you to the back of the seat, jostles you enough that your legs fall open further. You move to close them, but Joel’s hand moves again, high enough now that if you moved the slightest bit, you could probably get some relief from the ache that’s been building since he kissed you.

His pinky stretches, barely grazing your pussy, but it makes you gasp nonetheless, squirming in your seat from the want. At the next red light, he abandons all pretense, slipping his hand beneath the elastic of your panties and dragging his fingers through the embarrassing amount of wetness that’s already gathered there for him.

“Fuck,” he groans. You turn your head to look at him, his sharp jaw clenched tight as he circles your clit with his index and middle finger. “This wet for me already, baby?”

You moan in response, unable to form words as he touches you, alternating between soft strokes and fast circles over your sensitive clit. Your hips chase his every movement, desperate for relief from the pressure building in your core. 

“Joel,” you whimper, grabbing his forearm, digging your nails into the muscle. Your eyes squeeze shut against the overwhelming sensations.

He turns the truck and hastily throws it in park, pulling his hand from you just as you were cresting that wave. You whine at the loss but he shushes you, undoing your seatbelt and getting out of the truck with a slam of the door. It takes you a second to realize he’s stopped because you’ve reached your apartment complex.

The passenger door opens and Joel is there, gripping the door tightly. “Let’s go.”

You lead him to your door on unsteady legs. He follows you inside your apartment, pressed close to your back while you set your bag on the table by the door. 

“Where’s your room?” He asks, hands already rucking up the fabric of your dress. “I gotta finish what I started.”

You hurry down the hall to your room together and you silently thank your past self for cleaning up before your date. Joel wastes no time reaching for the hem of your dress, tugging it up over your head and tossing it into a heap on the floor.

“Fuck, even prettier than I imagined,” he groans, dropping to his knees. “Soon as you walked in wearin’ that I knew I was a goner.” He eases your panties down your thighs, helps you step out of them without toppling over. “On the bed.”

You obey without hesitation, crawling across your familiar mattress and lying on your back, head on your pile of pillows. Joel removes his suit jacket, eyes dark as his gaze roams across your body and makes your skin prickle under the intensity. His shirt and pants follow in quick succession, leaving him in a pair of boxer briefs that highlight an impressive bulge.

Joel joins you on the bed and you’re hypnotized by the movement of muscle beneath tan skin. He urges your legs apart, calves draped over his broad shoulders to give him room to settle between your thighs. He looks up at you, holding your gaze as he takes his first taste of you with a deep groan you feel through your whole body. 

Your head drops back to your pillow with a shout, legs tensing around Joel’s head. You bury your hands in his hair, holding on tight while he devours you. His tongue circles your clit before dipping down to your dripping center to curl inside of you. A thick finger follows, pressing deep and withdrawing slowly.

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” Joel says. “How’s that feel, huh?”

“So good,” you moan. “More, please, Joel.”

“Since you asked so nicely.”

He eases another finger into you, curling them along your front wall with pointed focus. That knot of release tights again, your muscles growing tense with it the longer he moves with your body. He wraps his lips around your aching clit, alternating between sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth and working it with his tongue until you’re shouting a string of curses and shatter beneath him.

Joel works you through your orgasm until you’re gasping for breath, more puddle than human. He crawls up your body, leaving kisses on what seems like every inch of you as he does and you pull him close when he’s face to face with you, kissing him deeply and chasing the earthy taste of yourself from his mouth.

His hips press against yours, grinding his length against your inner thigh. The kiss turns sloppy, his breath coming in sharp pants and thrusts growing frantic, skin dappled with sweat in the warm air of your room. You tilt your hips, pushing a hand against his shoulder to get him flat on his back with you straddling his waist, stomach flexing beneath you.

He’s deliciously disheveled beneath you with messy hair and kiss swollen lips. His hands find your thighs, sliding upward over your stomach to find your breasts, pinching a nipple between his fingers and making you hiss. Your hips rock over the softness of his belly and you reach behind yourself to palm his cock.

“Look real good like this,” Joel pants, flexing into your touch. 

“Well, you did ask me if I wanted a ride,” you tell him. 

You lean over towards your nightstand, tugging the top drawer open and rummaging around for a condom. Foil packet in hand, you lift off of Joel for a moment to allow him the chance to hastily shove his underwear off before settling back down on top of his thighs and taking his length in your hand with a slow stroke that makes his mouth drop open, cock pulsing against your palm. You lean forward, licking the flushed tip clean of the pre-cum gathered there. 

“You’re killin’ me,” Joel says through gritted teeth. “Wanna feel you, quit teasin’.”

You decide to put you both out of your misery, ripping the condom wrapper and rolling the latex over him. You lift up and he holds his cock steady with a fist around the base as you position yourself over him on your knees and slowly take him into your tight heat, twin moans echoing in the room as you do.

When your hips are flush with his, the wiry curls at the base of his cock grow damp with your arousal as you rock above him, grinding your clit against him and clenching around his length. He holds your hips in a loose grasp, not urging your movements but feeling them as you chase your pleasure. 

“Christ,” Joel moans, head tipped back and eyes squeezed shut. He plants his feet, thrusting up as you grind down and making you gasp. “Ain’t lastin’ much longer, baby.”

You lean forward, changing the angle and allowing him to pound inside of you, his cock pulsing as his release nears. You’re right there with him, the drag of his cock against that sweet spot inside of you making you tip over the edge with a shout muffled into the sweat slick skin of his neck. 

He slams himself deep, cock pulsing as he spends himself into the condom inside of you. You collapse against his chest, the two of you catching your breath in the aftermath. When you roll off of Joel and onto the mattress, he’s quick to pull you back against him, your head resting on his chest.

“That was—“

“Yeah,” you interrupt breathlessly. “It was.”

After a moment, Joel quietly asks, “What now?”

“You can stay…if you want.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, fingertips brushing along your shoulder. “I want that.”

Joel’s phone rings at an ungodly hour the next morning. He struggles to find his discarded pants in the dark but when he finally unearths the obnoxious device, his greeting is a snapped, “What?”

“He lives!” Tommy cheers from the other end. “It was a fifty-fifty chance you were dead or in bed.”

“What do you want, Tommy?”

“Just checkin’ to see how the date went. Must’ve been pretty good, seein’ as how I’m at your house and you’re nowhere to be found.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Fuck off,” he says. He’s about to hang up when he hears Tommy shout, “Wait!”

“What now?” Joel asks.

“Ain’t you gonna thank me?”

Joel snaps the phone shut, tossing it into the piles of clothes and crawling back into bed with you.

Joel Miller masterlist

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[steveharringtonat3am]

Rhythmic romance | drummer!steve harrington x reader | 18+

summary: Robin's drummer friend is hot. What else were you supposed to do? [1.8k]

warnings: SMUT 18+, mentions of alcohol, fem!reader, oral (fem receiving), penetrative sex, mentions of birth control

✩┈┈∘*┈୨୧┈*∘┈┈✩

You did not want to be at a bar right now. You couldn’t wait to get home, get into bed, and crochet with a sitcom playing in the background until you eventually fell asleep. But it was your best friends’ birthday, so you sucked it up. She insisted on coming to see this band in the sketchiest dive bar you had ever stepped foot in. It was way too crowded and you regret not throwing her a party in your apartment. But from what you can hear, the music is pretty good.

“Here!” Robin hands you a glass of club soda. Being the designated driver was normally fine with you but the pounding music makes you envy her cosmopolitan. She begins pulling you closer to the band and you try to pretend your eardrums aren’t about to burst.

“It’s good!” You nod at her when she looks for your approval. She had mentioned something about knowing the lead singer and the drummer. How? You couldn’t remember the details as they hit a high note louder than you thought possible.

���Corroded Coffin’ is etched on the front of the drums. It’s actually a pretty cool name. You’re about to ask Robin about it when your eyes drift further and your jaw nearly drops.

Holy shit, the drummer is hot.

So hot, you almost can’t think for a second. He’s sweating from the lights, tanned skin and muscle showing through his white t-shirt that’s almost translucent from the sweat. His gorgeous brown hair is all over the place as he tosses his head back to get some out of his eyes. He’s focused on the beat as his tongue pokes out of his mouth ever so slightly.

You could kill Robin for hiding him from you.

The set feels like it takes forever. Halfway through, Robin tugs you over to a booth where the volume has slightly decreased.

“You said you know the drummer?” You try not to be obvious but she sees right through you.

“You like him, don’t you? He’s a loser you know that right? Like a major loser.” She exaggerates in an obvious way that makes you smile.

“You should have seen this coming. He’s exactly my type.” You grin as you sip your drink and she sighs.

“I know but I hoped you would have higher standards.”

“You do realize he’s your friend right?” That is already a green flag in your mind. No way Robin would be friends with a douche so at the very least he’s nice.

“…Alright fine. Honestly, you two would probably get along well.” She shrugs. Before you can ask much about him though, your eyes lock with his.

“Hey, Rob!” The one with long dark hair greets her as you and the drummer simply look at each other. He’s even prettier up close and you really wanna reach over and fix his hair.

“Hi, Eddie! Hi doofus.” She pushes the drummer on the shoulder and he turns to smile at her.

“Hi, Robin. Did you like the set?” He asks as you pretend your drink is incredibly fascinating.

“Yeah! We both liked it.” She introduces you quickly, putting the name Steve to the face. He reaches out to shake your hand. The contact sends a shiver down your spine but luckily he doesn’t notice. They each slide into the booth, Steve next to you and Eddie next to Robin. You try not to focus too much on his thigh pressed against yours but the warmth of him mixed with his intoxicating cologne is almost too much for you.

The more you get to know Eddie and Steve, the more you understand why Robin was friends with them. Eddie was so funny and nice. Steve was perfect. Kind, has a good sense of humour and is just incredible.

It also helped that he had his hand on your bare thigh.

He had been laughing at something you said, pushing his hair back before letting his hand fall onto your skin, and rubbing it with his thumb. He doesn’t look at you as he does but you swear his smile grows when you tense a bit next to him.

When you feel like you can’t breathe anymore, you excuse yourself to the bathroom. Steve stands to let you out, eyes running over you as you walk past him.

The hallways leading to the bathrooms feel like a different, quieter world so you take a moment to yourself. You liked Steve. But you didn’t even know how he felt about you. And you didn’t want this to be some one-night hookup.

“Hey.” As if you summoned him, Steve is walking up to you. He stops in front of where you’re leaning against the wall, caging you in.

“Hi.” You smile at him and he leans in close. Maybe he’s doing it to hear you better but you like to think it’s just to get closer to you.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Just needed a break from all that, you know?” You fiddle with the hem of your skirt as he nods.

“Course. Though, I gotta say I liked having such a pretty face watching me play. Should come to more shows.” You can’t tell who’s moving, but he’s closer than he was before.

“You gonna give me a reason to?” The teasing smile sends him over the edge as he presses his lips against yours. You melt into it as he steps closer to press you against the wall. His hand cradles the back of your head as the kiss gets sloppier.

“C’mere.” He breaks the kiss for a second to tug you into the unisex bathroom, locking the door and immediately pressing you against it. You grin into the kiss as your fingers slip through his curly brown locks.

“Gonna let me fuck you in this bar? That desperate for me?” He teases in a way that soaks your panties more than you thought possible.

“L-like you don’t want it just as bad.” You pant, already chasing his lips again. He tugs you over to the sink and pushes you up so you’re sitting on the counter. He’s impossibly close now as your skirt rides up. You can feel how hard he is against your thigh but you’re too focused on his wandering hands, going from your hips to your sides to your ass.

The moan that slips out when he squeezes the flesh would be embarrassing if you weren’t so desperate for him. His hands slip to your thighs, rubbing up and down. His fingers brush the edges of the lace and he pulls away from your sloppy makeout to look into your eyes.

“Can I take these off?” His eyes are even prettier clouded with lust. You nod quickly in response and he wastes no time, sliding the fabric down your thighs and pushing it into his pocket. Your comment on that is stifled as he kisses your inner thigh. You spread your legs wider for him and try to ignore the feel of his smirk as his tongue runs up and down your slit.

“Come on Steve!” You whine as you tug his hair. He moans at the feeling and the vibration makes you squirm. Luckily, his grip is iron, so you don’t fall. He continues to lap at you and your orgasm starts to build. Unluckily, this is where he chooses to pull away and stand.

“N-no come on I was close!” You pout at his Cheshire grin.

“I know sweetheart but I need to fuck you. That alright with you?” One look at the bulge in his pants tells you all you need to know.

“Absolutely.” You tug at his belt, undoing it as quickly as possible. He helps with his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers. His hard cock springs free to slap his stomach and your eyes nearly fall out of your head.

Gods, he’s huge.

“Condom or no?”

“I’m on the pill and…you seem clean.” You can’t think straight at this point. Your pussy aches for him to fuck you.

“I am. M’not gonna say no to fucking you raw. God you look hot.” You could orgasm right there but then he’s stepping closer and pressing his fat tip into you.

“Holy-” You grab onto his arm, pressing your face into his shoulder as he sinks in deeper. He hums in acknowledgement, easing in nice and slow.

By the time he’s balls deep, you might be seeing stars but you’d happily die in this moment.

“You alright, sweetheart?” He mumbles into your ear with a tenderness you don’t expect from a bar fuck. But you suppose Steve wasn’t just any bar fuck.

“Y-yeah. You can move.” You’re pressed together so tight you’re not sure where he ends and you begin.

As he starts to fuck you, you press a fist into your mouth to avoid moaning too loud. He quickly ups his pace, pounding into you like there’s no tomorrow. The sound of skin slapping is sinful but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

“Holy shit Steve just like that!” You moan into him, holding onto his arms for dear life. He’s making such pretty noises.

“Feel so-fuck-so good sweetheart.” He presses a sloppy kiss to your lips, moaning when you clench around him. Both your mouths and chins are covered in saliva but as his thumb runs over your clit, all thoughts go out the window.

“G-god I’m so close Steve.” You’re so close to the edge that it hurts.

“Go ahead, sweetheart.” He slams into you one more time and you’re seeing stars as pleasure overtakes you. It’s enough to make him cum too, pulling out to paint your thighs with his cum.

You both pant in silence for a second, your head resting against his chest. When you’ve both caught your breath you manage to look at him. He looks as if he’s just come off stage, only less sweaty. You can’t imagine you look any better but the look in his eyes almost convinces you otherwise.

“I-I’ll go out first.” He offers hands quickly fixing your hair into place before stepping away to help you down. Your legs are wobbly but you manage.

“Steve wh-” He cuts you off with a sweet kiss, with none of the lust from before but just as much passion.

“I’ll take you on a proper date soon okay? I promise.” He kisses your cheek once more before slipping out the door. You rest against the cold porcelain as you mull over what just happened.

You’re gonna have to get Robin one hell of a birthday gift.

[dancingtotuyo]

Part I

High Infidelity | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Summary: Tommy gets himself into more trouble than he can get out of.

Tags: Tommy x Reader, Joel x Reader, Tommy's Wife Reader, infidelity, emotional affair, slow burn (as much as you can get for 5 chapters), Tommy goes to jail, Reader has had a child

Warnings: US justice system (it don't work, probably bad understanding of how it operates), mention of drugs & weapons, alcohol consumption, let me know if I missed anything

Notes: when I planned this out, I didn’t realize I’d scheduled the first chapter to drop on Pedro’s birthday! So happy birthday to him!

Shout out to @janaispunkfor beta reading and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for letting me scream about this endlessly and shaping this world. Finally, @saradika-graphics for sustaining our fic writers with an endless supply of dividers!

Words: 4396

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Daily Clicks for Palestine & Other resources

You’re asleep, or at least you should be except the phone is ringing and the bed is cold next to you. That’s a bad sign. It always is. 

A small grunt echoes from your gut as bare feet hit the cool hardwood floor. You can’t find the phone before it stops, buried under clothes you haven’t folded, scribbled crayon drawings, and bleary eyes. It starts back almost immediately.

“Tommy?”

“He called me.” Joel’s voice echoes through the line. “It’s bad this time.”

“How bad?”

“He asked for a lawyer.”

You press your palm to your forehead. “Shit!”

“The sitter is on her way to yours. I’m getting Sarah up now. We’ll be there in 10.”

“Thank you, Joel.”

“Of course. See you soon.”  Joel hangs up. 

You roam through the laundry basket for a clean pair of jeans and an acceptable t-shirt. You run a toothbrush through your mouth to freshen your breath. You do your best to push back all the possibilities running through your brain. 

You crack open the door to Nathaniel’s room. Your two-year-old son sleeps tightly, his mop of black curls spread out on the pillow. You want to run your hand through his curls and kiss his cheek, but he’s the world’s lightest sleeper, just like his daddy. 

The sitter is there 5 minutes later, all too familiar with this routine for your liking. Joel ushers in a bleary-eyed minutes later. He tucks her into the spare room bed. Sarah doesn’t ask questions. She’s asleep before he can kiss her head.

You move like the well-oiled machine that you are. He grabs your purse, ensuring the checkbook is there while you say a few words to the sitter. Joel hands you the small black bag and a light jacket.

Doors open before you and close without you touching them. You and Joel are riding down the highway. The windows are cracked, the breeze playing through your hair as street lights play off the windows, growing bigger and brighter as your eyes fill with tears. You chew on your thumb as the thoughts finally begin to take over.  

You’ve felt Tommy slipping these past few months. You’ve tried to ignore it, excuse it. He’s had a hard time adjusting. This is hardly the first time he’s been in jail. It feels like a weekly occurrence at this point, but he’s never needed a lawyer. He’s never been held longer than overnight. 

“Did he say what they got him for?”

“No… he asked me to come alone.”

“Fucking hell.” You run a hand over your face. Tommy’s antics are aging you prematurely. 

“He’s going to be okay.”

“Says who?” You snap. “We’ve been doing this dance for months, Joel! I know he’s having a hard time adjusting, but maybe we’ve been giving him too much room.”

Joel sighs, letting silence fall over the truck cabin. His blinker clicks as you turn into the familiar station. You wonder if the night shift is actually going to fulfill their punch card offer this time. 

Joel has barely pushed the truck into park before you’re out of the vehicle, flying through the front doors. Joel is hot on your heels, not bothering to lock his beat-up pickup. 

Your ID is already on the desk, you don’t even have to say a name. The officer at the front desk doesn’t need your license. He barely looks at it. It’s all a raging formality. They escort you to a room, not a holding cell as you’re used to.

Tommy sits at a table talking to a tired-looking public defender. His head snaps up, eyes jumping from your face to Joel’s behind you. “I told you to come alone.”

“The fuck you did Thomas James Miller!” You say before Joel can defend himself.

Tommy stands to his feet, the chair skidding back. “You’re not supposed to be here for this!”

“I’m your wife! You call me!”

“Or maybe you should be home with your child!”

“Oh, I should be home with our son? And what about you?”

“I’m not having this fight with you right now.” Tommy throws his hands in the air moving his attention to Joel who leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “You were supposed to come alone!”

“What’re you in for?” You ask, not giving Joel a chance to answer. Not that he was going to. He knows not to let Tommy deflect to him when you are around. 

Tommy sighs falling into the chair like a rag dog. Stress lines engrave themselves deep into his forehead.

“Tommy…” A pit drops in your stomach. “What did they get you with?”

“A gun-“

“Without a permit.” The Lawyer speaks for the first time. There’s a roll to Tommy’s eyes. 

“And?” 

Tommy can’t meet your eyes. He shuffles in his seat. 

“Tommy,” Joel says, voice low and gruff. It’s automatic, parental even.

“A couple grams of coke.”

“Fucking hell, Tommy.” Joel hits his head against the wall. 

“I didn’t- I never took it. I promise.”

You take a shaking breath, trying to calm your worn nerves. “So what are we looking at here?” You ask, eyes trained on the lawyer. 

You see Tommy out of your peripheral vision using his pleading puppy dog eyes on you. You square your shoulders determined not to fall for it. They’re the reason you’re in this boat in the first place. 

“Babe-“

You hold up a hand cutting him off, eyes trained on the lawyer. “What are we looking at?”

“Probably Jail time. DA’s office has been cracking down on these kinds of cases the past few months.”

“Is he getting out tonight?”

The lawyer shakes his head. “We have to wait until tomorrow for arraignment and bail.”

“Then, I’ll see you two tomorrow.” You give them a firm nod, exiting the room in a flash.

The Texas air wraps around you as you exit the stale police station. Joel’s pick-up is cool under your fingers, anchoring you to something.

This can’t be happening. You’ve felt him slipping through your fingertips for months, but you wonder if this is it if this is the moment you lose Tommy for good. 

Firm arms wrap around your waist. It’s a warmth you’ve become way too familiar with over the last couple of years. You turn around, letting your tears soak Joel’s shirt as they have so many times before. You twist his shirt in your fists as he cradles your head against his chest. There’s a slight sway in his movements, soothing your wrenching soul. 

“We’re going to get through this.”

“He had cocaine!”

Joel sighs. “I know.”

“I can’t keep doing this. It’s going to kill me.”

“Let’s get you home. Get some sleep.” Joel squeezes you and then guides you into the passenger side seat. “We have a long day tomorrow.”

“What time is-“

“Lawyer said about 11. Wants us to meet them at the courthouse at 10.”

You nod, clearing the tears. “Okay.”

The drive home is quiet. You’re used to Tommy throwing out every excuse in the book, promising he’s going to change. The silence makes you want to scream. How do you go forward? How do you explain to Nathaniel that Daddy won’t be home for a long time? Jail Time. It bounces off the walls of your brain like a gong over and over. 

You’ve done this before. Raise your son alone. Tommy was overseas when Nathaniel was born. You did the first 3 months on your own- or sort of alone. Joel and Sarah spent many nights at your and Tommy’s home those first few months helping you through the learning curve of being a new parent. If you’re completely honest, you’re still doing it alone, but now with a shell of a man to look after as well. 

Joel hands the sitter cash and she’s gone without a word. Your purse and jacket are forgotten on the chair as you collapse onto the couch, holding your head in your hands. The weight of the night threatens to finally break you. 

“Here.” The cool weight of a bottle presses against your jeans.

“Thank you.” You take it, tipping the bottle back in unison with Joel in a quiet ritual. 

“I think I’m just gonna crash on the couch tonight.”

You nod, a humorless huff leaving your chest. “Just like the good ole days, I guess.” 

Joel looks over your profile, catches the wear in your frame, the silent tears slipping from your eyes. The rattle in your chest changes from sarcastic to sorrow and then a sob slips from your lips. 

Joel sets his beer on the coffee table, arm slipping around your shoulders. He pulls your loose body into his side. For the second time that night, your face burrows into his chest. 

“Shhh, I’ve got you, Darlin’. We’ll get through this.” His voice is soft and soothing. His fingers brush softly over your head down to the back of your neck. You fall asleep like that, lulled by the steady beat of his heart. 

You wake up to the morning sun, your body stiff from sleeping on the couch against Joel. He’s up, the smell of coffee wafting toward you. You hear him talking to Sarah and Nathaniel in the kitchen. 

You stand, stretching out your sore muscles in wrinkled clothing following the promise of caffeine. Sarah and Nathaniel sit at the kitchen table with syrupy smiles. 

“Mommy!” Nathaniel yells. 

You force a sleepy smile, kissing his sticky cheek. “Morning, sweet cheeks.” You dip your finger in the syrup on his plate, licking it off your fingertip making him and Sarah laugh. “Morning, Sarah Bear.”

“Morning, Auntie,” She says. “Your clothes are wrinkled.”

Joel’s hand lands on your back and a cup of coffee lands in your hands, sending warmth through your body. The hum in your body is automatic. “Thank you.”

Joel only nods, returning his attention to the pancakes sizzling on the stovetop. You sip on the hot coffee. Joel prepared it exactly how you like it, just like he always does.

 “You hate pancakes.” 

“Yeah, but the gremlins love them.”

“That they do.” You grin, sipping on the coffee again. “Ugh, it’s infuriating the way you come into my home and make better coffee than I do.”

Joel chuckles, flipping two fluffy pancakes onto a plate. He tops them with cut-up strawberries and whipped cream handing them to you with the biggest shit-eating grin. “And pancakes.”

For a minute you forget it all, the impending arraignment, your husband in jail for unregistered weapons and drug possession, the two children sitting mere feet away. It’s just you and Joel and a stack of whipped cream-covered pancakes. Joel who held your hand through labor and helped you with midnight feedings. The man who got you through Tommy’s deployment. The one who always calls the sitter and drives you to the police station when Tommy gets himself in trouble. You and your rock. 

The shattering of glass echoes through the kitchen. “Uh-oh!”

You spin around, taking in the broken glass on the floor. Orange juice leaks over the table, dripping over the edge. You and Joel spring into action, pancakes forgotten. “Both of you stay in your seats,” You say.

Joel grabs the broom before you, sweeping up the shards, his feet already protected in his boots. You turn off the stove, keeping an eye on both children to ensure you don’t add bloodied feet to your morning agenda. 

“Sorry, Daddy,” Sarah says, keeping her feet crisscrossed beneath her. She looked up at you. “Sorry about your glass, Aunt Bonnie.”

You smile at her, handing Joel a towel to soak up the spilled juice. “It’s okay, Sarah bear. I just want you to be okay.”

She nods back, curls bouncing around her face. “I’m okay.”

You sigh, staring at the pancakes on the counter. The whipped cream has melted into a lopsided mound, half of it turned back into cream that soaks through the pancakes. You take a bite, the flavors settling nicely over your tongue even if the texture of the pancakes is slightly off. For a man who claims not to like them, Joel Miller sure knows how to make a mean pancake. 

Your mind plays back to the nickname. Not many people call you Bonnie anymore. Just a few years ago, it had been a constant. Stemming from Tommy’s group of army buddies, they declared you Bonnie for always stealing Tommy away from their group cookouts and whatnot, and Tommy was Clyde due to his propensity for getting into trouble. For whatever reason, probably just to annoy you, Tommy had introduced you to Sarah as “His Bonnie.” So that’s what she calls you. 

Joel empties the remaining shards into the trash can. Several high-pitched clinks sound off until the shards settle. Your fork stirs the whipped cream and syrup together. 

“Pancakes are usually best eaten, not played with.” Joel teases, picking his coffee up to take a sip. His fingers graze your arm as he sets it back down, returning the broom back to its rightful place.

”You don’t even like pancakes.” You furrowed your brow, taking another bite. Whipped cream marks your upper lip. You take another bite. “God, one day you have to tell me your secret.”

Joel chuckles. He leans across the counter, elbows resting against the granite much like yours. He sips on his coffee, eyes watching as you stuff another bite into your mouth. “I’ve got many secrets, Darlin.”

You laugh, mouth full of fruit and cream. “You’re an open fucking book, Miller.”

”I think I could surprise you several times over.” He chuckles. Something sparks behind his eyes like he’s actually keeping something from you. You’ll figure it out. You always do. 

“These are delicious, Joel, but if I take another bite, I’m gonna be sick.”

Joel frowns. “You feeling okay? You don’t have a fever do you?” He presses his fingers to your forehead before you can roll your eyes. 

“Anxiety.”

Joel nods. “You’ve got a little-“ He motions to his mouth.

You cock your head to the side brain not picking up on the obvious signals. He sighs in mock exasperation. Reaching forward, he wipes the whipped cream from your lip with his thumb, pressing the excess to his mouth. The moment catches you off guard, something stirring in the back of your mind as you zero in on the thumb pressed to his lips. 

“You should go get ready.” He says as if nothing happened, taking your plate. “We need to leave in an hour.”

You nod, pushing back from the counter. The weight of the day at hand keeps that moment from playing over and over again on a loop.

”Daddy,” Sarah says. “Isn’t it time for school?”

”You’re going to stay here with Nathaniel and Miss Lacy today. Your aunt and I have some things we have to do.”

”Oh,” Sarah nodded. “Uncle Tommy things?”

You stop, sharing a look with Joel. You’ve tried your best to keep Tommy’s troubles from the kids, but it’s inevitable. Sarah is almost 6 after all. She’s always been incredibly perceptive and observant. 

“Daddy?” Nathaniel asks, looking around. Your heart breaks a little bit. 

Your mind wanders. When will he get to see Tommy again? 

Joel takes the lead when you arrive at the courthouse for which you’re grateful. You’re both dressed in nice clothing. High heels clack beneath you. A tie reaches around Joel’s neck. You hold Tommy’s suit in a garment bag as a guard leads you to an office-like room. Tommy sits at a table with his layer from last night and another man you don’t recognize. They seem to be deep in a serious conversation. 

All three men turn as you enter, making you feel like you’re in the wrong place. You can’t tell if Tommy is relieved to see you or not. A pit forms in your stomach, like you’re not going to like the outcome of this meeting. 

“What’s going on?” You ask. 

The door clicks shut behind you as Joel’s scent creeps around you.

”We’re talking.” Tommy says. 

“About?” You press. 

Tommy sighs, unable to meet your eyes. “A plea deal.” 

You bite your lip, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. This is easier. It’s probably better in the long run, but you’re not ready to face the music. You prepared for court, not a plea deal. Not for Tommy to admit guilt with a stroke of a pen, not a judge in sight. 

“What’s in it?”

”Baby…” Tommy pleads like he wants to make amends right now. 

“What are you signing us up for, Tommy?”

“Two years and a half years. Probation after that.”

You inhale sharply. 

“It’s a good deal,” The man you’ve never seen says. “He’s looking at at least twice that if this goes to court, and he will be convicted if this goes to court.”

You look to Tommy’s lawyer for confirmation. He doesn’t make it obvious but gives you a solid nod. 

“You were about to sign it.” You look at your husband. It’s not a question. 

“Yeah.”

”I’d have appreciated it if you had talked to me first,” you say. 

“You’d have told me to sign it.”

You nod, barely keeping the tears at bay. “Yeah.”

The DA holds a pen out to Tommy. Tommy looks back at you for final permission. You give it, watching that expensive ass pen glides across the paper with Tommy’s chicken scratch of a signature. Your heart breaks with each stroke, crumbling a little more as he dots the I and crosses the T.  

Joel places a hand on your shoulder. The heat spreads, anchoring you to the moment, keeping you afloat as you stare down the barrel of being a single mother yet again. 

Tommy slides the paper back to the DA. He looks them over, tapping them against the table with a satisfied nod as if a family hadn’t been torn apart. 

“You have about 30 minutes before they come to get him.”

”That’s it?” You ask. “We can’t even take him ourselves?”

The DA shrugs like he’s being generous, igniting a deep hatred of him inside you. You don’t even know his name. He holds up the papers before sliding them into his briefcase. “Terms of the plea deal.”

You clutch your fists as he walks out of the room. Tommy’s lawyer slips out with him, and then Joel, leaving just you and Tommy. 

He stands and you finally realize it’s all happening again. You’ll be alone, worrying about your husband though this time for different reasons. 

“Baby, I-” He steps towards you. You don’t move offering zero indication that you register Tommy’s movements. 

He reaches for your hands, but you pull them back. “You weren’t supposed to take the Bonnie and Clyde thing seriously.” 

You fight back tears, turning so he can’t see them. “Pretty sure they both died.”

A humorless laugh leaves your body as you collapse onto a couch, holding your head in your hands. 

Tommy kneels in front of you, slowly peeling your hands from your face, taking them into his. Despite it all, you feel yourself melting into his familiar touch. It only confirms what you are beginning to fear. It doesn’t matter what Tommy does, you’ll always be here waiting for him. He is the love of your life and you would burn the world down to look into his sweet brown eyes and feel his skin against yours. 

You look at him through blurry eyes, sniffing back the congestion gathering in your sinuses. He gives you that crooked smile you love so much, and you feel better despite the weight bearing on your shoulders. The past three years have aged him ten. You suppose time has done the same to you.

Slowly, he presses his lips to your hands. “I know I fucked up. If-” He pauses, swallowing. His thumb plays with the thin gold band on your left hand. “If you’re not waiting for me when I get out I understand.”

You squeeze his hand. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Tommy snorts. “Easily? Just last week you were yelling at me for putting you through hell.”

“Yeah, well…” You run your fingers through his black curls as you sniff back your tears. “You kinda hold my heart in your hands, Tommy Miller. I don’t think I could get it back if I tried.”

He smiles at you. You lean forward, pressing your lips to his. His hands creep up your thighs as he rises to his feet. Your back collides with the plush back of the couch as your fingers tangle in his long hair. Tommy presses his tongue into your mouth, a smile growing across your face. This is the first taste of your Tommy you’ve had in months, the one you fell in love with. 

The door opens, and before Tommy can pull away, Joel’s gruff voice echoes through the room. “Prospect of going to jail really puts you two in the mood, huh?” 

Heat surges to your cheeks. You’re not sure why. You and Tommy had been caught in much more compromising positions throughout your relationship.

“Gotta get what I can while I’m still a free man.” Tommy grins at his big brother, pressing another exaggerated kiss to your lips. Joel’s eyes move to the corner of the room. Your smile feels a little more forced after that. 

Your thirty minutes fly at lightning speed. They take Tommy before you’re ready. Any energy you gain from Tommy’s affection is drained the moment he’s led out of sight. You barely catch the look he gives Joel.

”Take care of them.”

Joel nods, gripping his brother’s shoulder. There’s a silent exchange between them. “Take care of yourself.”

 A clerk goes over everything with you and Joel. You’re given a strict list of items you can drop off for Tommy at the prison. You don’t process a word, the weight of it all falling on top of you. You came to the courthouse today expecting an arraignment and bail, not to be kissing your husband goodbye for the next year and change. It feels unfair like something was taken from you. 

Joel is the one who keeps it together. He always keeps it together. He asks the questions and makes note of the important things. He secures the horde of important documents held limply in your hands. 

When the clerk says your name for a second time, or maybe a third, you’re not sure, it snaps you out of the fog. Joel’s eyes are sympathetic as he holds out a pen. His single nod tells you he has all the information in his head. You can sign. You don’t have to think. You sign as flashes of Tommy doing the same filter through your vision. 

The pen drops to the table as you push back headed straight for the nearest exit. You feel like you’re in a dream. Joel catches up, tucking everything you forgot under his arm. He grabs your elbow, steering your aimless body in the right direction. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay. He knows the answer. 

You feel like a toddler, wandering and lost, relying on Joel’s firm grip to get anywhere. He opens doors and boots you into his pickup, patting the door once it’s closed. The car is warm from the sun. You fumble with the seat belt, but Joel’s calloused hands are there, guiding your weary bones. 

The ride is silent. You basket in the warm sun, head pressed to the window with your eyes closed. The world feels so far away, but you’re extremely tuned into the heat of the sun, the rumble of the truck on the shitty roads, the blinking indicator light, and Joel’s listless tapping on the steering wheel when the vehicle draws to a stop from time to time, toeing the line between consciousness.

This is just a dream, right? You’ll wake up soon and Tommy will be behind you, drawing random patterns around your stomach hip, or thigh. The past year of your life and the past 12 hours have just been the world’s longest nightmare. That’s all. 

The truck lurches to a stop. The engine turns off with a distinct click. Your eyes blink open slowly. Your stretch out, toes curling in your dress shoes. Joel’s tie lays haphazardly on the dash. His cuffs are unbuttoned, pushed to his elbows, and the top couple of buttons of his dress shirt are undone. He still looks out of place in his dress attire, but a little more like himself. He hadn’t dressed this nicely for your and Tommy’s courthouse wedding. 

Your eyes drift out the windshield. A neon light reflects off your irises. This isn’t home. You look at Joel. “Why are we here?”

His seat belt comes undone with a click, snapping back. “We’re going to go in there and get drunk off our asses.”

”It’s the middle of the day.”

Joel raises an eyebrow at you. 

”Can we just go home?”

”No.”

”Why the fuck not?”

“Because we have a sitter all day, and you deserve a night before the weight of the world falls back on your shoulders.”

”Joel.” You want to go home and crawl in bed.

”This is three times longer than his deployment.” The statement hits you square in the chest. “You need this. Give yourself today. If you don’t do it now, you never will.”

You sigh, staring down the flickering neon in front of you. He’s right. You know he is. You might be exhausted, but it’s tempting. When was the last time you let go? Maybe that one good month you had after Tommy got back? When it was all making up for lost time and shit. 

“We’ve got a sitter for the whole day,” Joel says. “My treat.”

You inhale deeply, allowing the memories of drunken nights past to fill your brain. You can feel the thrum of alcohol already. You haven’t cut loose in a long time unless you count the nights spent at home alone drowning away the world after you’d tucked your son in for the night. 

Your fingers press the red release button of your seat belt. The metal buckle hits the window. “Fuck it. Let’s go.”

Joel smiles, dragging you inside.  

Taglist: @pamasaur @alltheotps @rizzraa @moel-jiller @misstokyo7love @justagalwhowrites @pedritosgfreal

[the-californicationist]

he teaches you new tricks

John Price convinces you to try using a butt plug for the first time, letting you use his ass for practice. It has definitely awakened something in you, and you're ready for more…

Warning: butt stuff, obviously.

It started innocently at first, fumbling and awkward, in the dark. John came home from deployment one day, ravenous and hungry, fingering you through the open leg of your pajama shorts, aiming for your sweet cunt. But, with a gasp from you and a gasp from him, he realized that he missed and landed his digits in a different destination. Your body’s response had been instinctual, and completely out of your control. Certainly the ragged moan he coaxed from your mouth by his accidental caress was not planned. It excited him, that much was obvious, and you discovered, as your mind processed the feelings stirring in your body, it excited you, too.

After that, he’d find excuses to lick you lower and lower, abandoning your pussy in favor of the tight bridge between your holes, even daring to flick his long tongue into what was previously a forgotten or even forbidden territory. Where you would have moved your hips out of his reach before, now you remained pliantly still, waiting for him to push his luck. Egging him on with your submission. When he grabbed your ass, his fingers would pull the cheek away just to reveal your asshole to him, thumbing it gently as he fucked you from behind, and you could feel him looking at it with a novel interest. 

It wasn’t the first time you’d been asked to consider anal sex. Price was not your first lover, but he was the first one who stood any chance of gleaning a positive response to the age-old query. He tested the waters one night while he railed inside of you, taking himself to the brink of pleasure, impairing his own judgment in a fog of bliss, nearly begging,

“You wanna try it out, love? Hm? You like my finger in there, now, dontcha?”

Your anguished cries were not a no, but they were not enough of a yes.

Later, after the fireworks died down, you lay against him, sweaty and sated, and looked up at him, musing,

“You’re so big, though…”

“Hmm?”

“Might be too much.”

“What are you sayin’, love?”

“You wanted to try anal, you said,” your voice was barely above a whisper, resonating in the hollow against his chest.

There was a long pause, and then, a smiling response through pleased sighs,

“Only if you want to. I’m more than happy as it is, clearly.”

“Would it hurt?” You asked. 

“No,” he shook his head confidently, “Shouldn’t hurt. Feels different, though.”

“We could try it,” you pushed your offering out into the quiet between you. 

He sighed,

“Don’t be doin’ this for my benefit. I told you, love, I’m not -”

“No,” you sat firm in your choice, “I wanna try. I don’t know…well, I’ve never done anything like that.”

“Tha’s okay. I’ll show ya, and hey -” he lifted your chin to look at him, gazing down at you with full sincerity, “We can stop anytime. Say it.”

You smiled, recognizing his tone,

“We can stop anytime.”

John cuddled you closer to him, wrapping his body around yours and pulling up the sheet, growling approvingly in your ear,

“Good girl.”

“How much should I put?” You asked, staring at the back of the bottle of lube, reading the vague instructions. 

“Here,” he took it from you and showed you the little pearl of clear liquid on his fingers. 

You handed him the smooth, silicone plug he’d brought home. He showed you the different sizes, the smallest being smaller than his finger - which you rejected - and the medium, and then the large. None of them had been too terribly intimidating. Price had been very serious about informing you of the dangers of not having a “flared base”, extolling the virtues of the T-shaped base he’d selected, touting its comfort and security. 

He rubbed the largest plug with the lube before reaching around and rubbing himself between his cheeks. 

“What are you doing?” You asked, not entirely sure what you were witnessing. 

“Want you to practice putting it in, so…” he smirked, blushing a bit from his finger’s ministrations, “You can use me to see how it goes.”

“W-w-what? Are you serious? You would do that for me?” You were positively aghast at his lack of boundaries. 

You had never expected any man in your life to be so free from society's Puritanical norms that he would even allow you to witness his asshole, much less put a butt plug into it - and not just for pleasure, but to educate you? You froze like a deer trapped in headlights, unable to proceed. 

“You don’t have to. You should feel the pressure, though, and see it happening. Makes it less scary, I think,” he held his hands up, not wanting to make you do anything you weren’t on board with. 

You shook your head, snapping out of your surprise,

“No, it’s okay. I just didn’t expect you to be okay with that.”

“I’m asking you to do it, so I should be able to do it, right?” He chuckled, kissing your forehead, rubbing his naked body against yours, turning you on again. 

John lay down on the edge of the bed, flat on his back, and spread his legs for you, hanging his muscular ass off of the side, rubbing his cock a bit for comfort and because he was getting obviously excited. His expressions during this whole ordeal had been positively boyish, full of bright anticipation. The novelty of taking your anal virginity fueled his giddy joy. 

You knelt between his legs, aiming the tip of the plug at his shining asshole, watching him thrust his hand against his hardening length erotically. Carefully, and too slowly, you touched the plug to his dark hole, surrounded by his curly, thick hair, using your other hand to lift his heavy balls out of the way.

Right at the first whisper of a touch, he groaned deeply. Encouraged, you pressed forward, meeting some resistance. Scared of hurting him, you paused there, keeping the tension but too afraid to go forward. 

“Push it in, love. Bit harder than that… please - yeah, fuck!”

Then, just as you applied more pressure, his hole stretched further and the plug disappeared inside of him, like a cork into a bottle, flush. John let out a groan, long and low, full of heady satisfaction.

Well, that wasn’t so scary, you thought. Unable to contain your desire, you tugged gently at his balls again, licking up to the base of his growing dick. He cried out again, enjoying the abundance of sensations. 

“Careful, love. I’ll come easy like this.”

“That good, John?” You rubbed his legs and abdomen affectionately, staring down at his occupied asshole, wanting very badly to feel what he was feeling. 

“So good. You wanna try?” He rolled over, sliding to the floor carefully, his cheeks rosy and warm as he kneeled down beside you, “Stand up for me, love.”

You stood, suddenly nervous. Price could tell. Your hesitation rolled off of your body language like a siren. He started to finger your pussy, enjoying the wetness in you, admiring the way you were already swollen and pulsing for him. His warm mouth kissed and licked your folds, drawing out long, luxurious moans from your throat, bringing you closer and closer to your climax.

Just as you thought he might make you come, he grabbed the lube from the nightstand and smeared it over his fingers, painting it onto your asshole. The slick feeling was enough to make you jolt, and you held onto his shoulders for balance. 

“C’mere, baby. Lay down for me,” he commanded in a careful timbre, moving your body as his had been on the mattress.

Price lifted your legs, grabbing you behind the knees and spreading you open, unable to resist eating your pussy when he did so, bending his head to taste you fully. Your orgasm was coiled up in your like a snake, ready to strike at any moment.

Then, you felt it, the tip of the medium-sized plug made cold contact with your asshole, and it sent a shock through your core. You gasped, and Price took it back, saying, 

“You alright, love?”

You nodded,

“You can do it. I’m okay.”

He pressed it back against your hole more confidently, pushing it into you until you felt stretched and open. Then, just as you had felt it slot into him, you felt it as it popped delightfully into you, feeling strange and extremely sensitive.

Price immediately went to your clit, licking it and fingering you inside of your pussy, and you felt the coil wind up again, stronger and more furious than before, stoked by the stimulation of your ass. He made you come, groaning right along with you, his eyes transfixed to your slick core, watching you pulse and clench around his hand. Each clench made the plug shift inside of you, rubbing against your insides, creating sparks in a place where there had never been any before. 

“Talk to me. How are you doing?” Price asked, rubbing your belly and thighs, comforting you. 

“It’s…strange. But, it’s good. Really good, actually,” you admitted, smiling, playing with your breasts lazily, coming down from your high. 

“Want me to play with you?”

You nodded, 

“Please.”

John hooked his first two fingers into the T-bar of the flexible plug, and he began to pull it out. You felt it stretching you, and then you felt a terrible emptiness when he removed it. You whimpered, involuntarily, and then gasped when he pushed it back in again. He was thrusting it in and out of you achingly slowly, letting you feel every little movement, telegraphing his actions as explicitly as he could, making sure you could see as much of his arm as possible. You were eager to feel more of it, and you told him,

“John... Feels so good. Faster, please.”

He obliged, and you understood, finally, the appeal. It wasn’t just your asshole that was sending sensation information to your brain. It was your pussy as well. The wall between your two holes was incredibly sensitive, and you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter as he fucked you with your new toy. Suddenly, he stopped and crawled over you, angling his cock to press into your pussy, slipping in easily through your slick come. 

You screamed, then. It was so intense, and you could feel both him and the plug battling each other for space as he began to thrust into you. Your shout stopped him at once, and he held his weight off of you,

“You’re hurt?”

You felt him start to pull out, panicked. You grabbed his waist, stopping him,

“Don’t go, baby.”

His sigh was pure elation, and he fed himself back into you, picking up a thumping rhythm that made the plug dance to his steady beat, teasing you incessantly. You were going to come so quickly and so hard. You could feel the build up, and it was like a stampede. Trying to warn him, you fought to catch your breath,

“John, I’m com-”

“Me, too, love. Bloody hell,” he spoke to you through gritted teeth, his pupils blown and full of a dark possession. 

You came together, gasping and keening, feeling him rolling through his orgasm like a tidal wave, filling you up quickly. 

He slid out of you, trying to catch his breath, and he carefully removed the plug, leaving you feeling hollow, full of a sort of sexual grief, a part of you begging to be filled again right away, bereft and missing your lover and his tools. 

“Holy shit,” you whispered.

“Sorry, love. You alright? Sorry…it was - It was too much for me. Couldn’t last,” he was coming undone at the seams. 

“More than alright, I think. That was…something else,” you smiled, earning yourself a wide grin in return. 

You watched him carefully remove the plug from himself, laying them on the washcloth on the small table. John reached for the other two soft rags that he had set out, and he used one to clean you up. He was so diligent in making sure he didn’t put you at any risk of infection, and you could tell it was taking everything he had to concentrate on his work. 

It had been almost a week since you’d had your adventure in toyland with John, and you were snuggling into him on the sofa, playing with the waistband of his pants absentmindedly, watching Liverpool and Tottenham. You weren’t sure how to push the envelope, so you just came right out and asked him,

“Do you want to fuck my ass tonight?”

He was mid-sip on his ale, and he nearly choked to death. His whole body convulsed as he coughed, hacking through the invasive liquid, trying to breathe. You’d startled him, and while you were a little sorry, you were also a little not. 

“Wh-what, love?” He asked through coughs, his face red and full of wide surprise. 

“I thought we could try. You know, if you wanted to.”

“Fuuuuuckin’ hell,” he caught his breath, smiling at you, his eyebrows raised high on his forehead, fully ignoring the game, “Yeah, yeah, I would do. Yeah, now?”

You giggled, curling into him cozily, 

“You’ve got forty minutes left in this match, babe.”

John didn’t reply. He clicked the screen off with his remote and scooped you off the couch, carried you into the bedroom, and playfully tossed you onto the big mattress. You were laughing with nervous excitement, impressed by his reaction. His expression was still one of genuine surprise, but along the edges, you could see a tremendous needy desire. His tone was still bright and playful, but now it was heavy with lustful warning,

“Clothes off, love. You lit a fuckin’ match, you did.”

He raked his shirt off his torso and threw it away, shucking off his jeans and socks like he was in a race, slipping his boxers off to prowl over you, fully naked and hard as a stone, leaking as his cock rubbed along your thigh. You’d almost matched him, but you still had your panties on, and he peeled them from you unceremoniously, his lips finding yours and slanting against his bearded mouth. He slipped his tongue past your teeth, dragging it along yours, licking you with a delicate longing, making your body ready and willing to respond to his every whim. 

Price was right of course, you had lit a match. He had one thing on his mind, and he let you know it. His mouth kissed its way down your body until it found your asshole, which he began to lick and writhe his way inside, lapping along the edges and onto your cheeks, devouring you. His fingers joined his efforts, rimming around the edges, sending clear signals to your body as he did so, and then he began to carefully invade your hole, prepping you for his intrusion. 

The way he scissored his fingers in you was enough to send your mind soaring with pleasure, but when he reached for the bottle of lube, your nerves returned. Your body stilled, and your breathing became more shallow. He smeared the lube against you and slowed things way, way down. 

“You alright, love? I won’t hurt you, baby, you know that,” he bent to kiss your neck, “You want me to stop?”

“No,” you shook your head, “no, I’m just nervous.”

“Tha’s okay,” he smiled, “Brave girl. Being so good for me. Hungry for me, hm?”

“Yeah, I am,” you felt the waves of pleasure return at his praise-filled words. He knew what you wanted to hear, and he was happy to oblige. 

Once he was pleased with your flexibility, he positioned himself at your asshole, slippery with lube and his thick precome, his cock jerking with excitement, rigid and stretching for you. The smooth, fleshy head of his dick pressed against your muscles, willing them to relent. 

“Breathe for me, baby,” Price coached you. 

You tried to breathe deeply, feeling yourself relax. Then, his head popped into you, mimicking the feeling of the plug. You sighed deeply, reveling in the familiar feeling. However, unlike the plug, Price had plenty more ground to cover, and he pushed himself deeper in the slowest, gentlest way possible. He was groaning the entire time, whining darkly in an animalistic way, like a wolf snarling in a fight, tense and stressed.

Wanting him to feel pleasure with you, your hands went to his belly, celebrating his body, rubbing him lovingly, rewarding him for his careful treatment. 

He hit another boundary of some kind, stopping his progress. John meet your eyes, and it was so filthy, the way he looked at you, you felt yourself pulse around him. You watched (with no small level of pride) as his eyes rolled back into his head, showing you their fluttering whites like a vicious shark, ready to snap. He whispered to you, recovering a bit,

“Breathe deep for me. One, two, three…that’s it, love, good girl. Such a good girl for me. Yes-yes-yes… ohhh…”

The rest of him pressed its way into you, and you were truly filled. As he sheathed himself, he waited there, breathing with you, relaxing into you as you relaxed, his cock simply sitting inside of you, hard and warm. 

“You okay?” He asked, quiet and falsely calm.

You nodded, cupping his bearded cheek, 

“Yes, baby. I’m good. So fucking good.”

Reserved and heavily restrained, he began to thrust into you slow and easy, making the most delicious faces as he did so. It felt like a dream and time stretched out around you in all directions. He created waves and waves of pleasure for you. You were so full and warm, and your clit was tingling without being touched, excited by the sparkling sensation of Price fucking your ass. You reached down to touch yourself, hissing at the pleasure of your own touch, and Price was salaciously injured by it,

“Oh, bloody fuckin’ hell. Yes, baby. Just like that. Touch yourself… Shite! I’m not gonna last.” 

You fondled your clit until you began to buzz from it, feeling the chill of an orgasm creep up your spine. You wanted him to join you, so you pushed him, knowing he was vulnerable,

“That’s my big bear, making me feel so fucking full. Want you to come in my ass. Wanna feel it inside me,” you doused the fire you’d built in him with kerosene words, and you grinned as you watched the resulting blaze. 

“Fuuuuck, fuck, fuck!” 

His come was thick and hot as it spilled out into you, and you could feel it inside of your asshole, wet and soft, folding around his cockhead as he thrust up into his own fluids. Pure bliss was painted across his face, and you covered yourself in his joy like a heavy coat, surrounded by it, and proud of your work, glad he was such a willing teacher.

You loved learning new tricks.