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#I’m drunk and I want to kiss the old man
adayumantium · 11 days
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Anybody Seen My Baby?
Old Man Logan x gender neutral!reader Smut
a/n: I watched a certain livestream and knew what I had to do. Old Man Logan fuckers (and one bestie in particular <3), this one’s for you <3 divider by muruffin
Summary: in which Logan has to keep pushing his glasses up while he fucks you. 
W/C: 400
tags/warnings: Porn with ZEROOOO Plot, SMUT! MDNI!, unprotected sofa sex, age gap (bro is 200+), cursing, pet names (baby), creampies <3 not proofread fr
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Who knew that sofa sex could be so good? Logan had you in his lap, your arms around his broad, scarred shoulders as he stretched you out. You picked up your pace, bouncing on him and loving the way Logan struggled to maintain his composure. His glasses started to slip down his nose as your pace increased, and you caught them with a nudge of your nose and a slip of your tongue into his mouth. 
His beard brushed your chin as your noises mixed together in the air, your bodies coming together with desperation and desire. You were obsessed with how he would pant and sweat, desperate to give you everything he had. 
“Fuck, fuck, baby, gotta stop that. I’m not what I used to be,” he mumbled, although his hands spoke a different story; he was still pushing you back down as you rose, forcing you down on his rock-hard cock. 
Logan’s hands left your hips briefly, pushing his glasses back up his nose once more. Despite his request, you kept your pace, desperate to make him come undone. 
“You know,” you purred in Logan’s ear, “if your glasses keep slipping, just take them off,” you insisted. 
“N-no, gotta see you,” his jaw clenched, rough hand desperate to find more of your skin. “That’s right, take what you need, baby,” he nodded with approval. “I’ve got you,” You thought his selflessness was sweet, but all you wanted was to have him fill you with his warmth. He’d always want you to finish first, you wanted him to finish first; it was the dance you always did. This time, you were going to win. 
 Despite your cock-drunk haze, you’d been meaning to try something new anyway. 
A shift of your hips. Forward. Back. Right. L. 
A sweet little circle. O. 
He started to register these new movements, intentional and different. 
You leaned forward with a smile. 
“You like it when I spell your name on your cock?” 
That’s all it took- two letters and Logan was desperate to come inside you. His hips bucked underneath you, sloppy as he grunts, letting his primal nature overtake him.
“Goddamn!” Logan muttered, his cock spilling into you as his hips started to sputter. 
“Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got you” you smiled, fixing his glasses again as you placed a sweet kiss on his head.
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finelinevogue · 4 months
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to new beginnings
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summary - you and harry are drunk on the streets of rome
word count - ~1k
pairing - husband!harry x reader
✨☀️💛☀️✨☀️💛☀️✨☀️💛☀️✨☀️💛☀️✨
“It’s literally this way.”
“No it isn’t.”
You tugged on Harry’s hand, attempting to make him follow you down a road - that looked like an alley - that you were sure would lead you to the main square.
Harry was insistent you were going the wrong way, but who could actually tell when you were both as drunk as each other.
Harry stood still as he watched you were drunk eyes and a soft smile, as you tried to tug him your way.
“Haarryy!”
“Y/NN!”
“Come on! I know what I’m doing.”
“No you don’t. You’re sloshed!” Harry laughed, watching you spin around in circles for whatever reason.
“I’m not sloshed… I’M IN LOVE.” You shouted to the universe, and also the unfortunate old couple that just happened to be walking past at the same time.
Before you could apologise, the old man spoke; “I remember when we were like that, Carla.”
You smiled warmly, looking from them to Harry. Harry was already smiling towards you, that spark still in his eyes for you even after 5 years together.
5 years together but only 2 days of being married.
Marriage was pretty happy so far.
“We still are.” The old woman smiled at her husband as they passed by.
You continued to walk off then, walking down the road you wanted to go down.
It was a very small and quaint alley, lots of balconies with hanging green baskets and drying clothes. You looked up at them as you passed by, your trainers padding along on the cobbled floor as you walked.
As you were in your own little world, you didn’t hear Harry sneak up on you until his arms were around your waist and lifting you up in the air to spin you around.
“Harry!” You laughed, your jaw hurting from smiling so much.
“Will you ever learn to listen to me?” He bit playfully onto your exposed shoulder, where the thin strap of your dress lay.
“Never!”
“Is that how marriage works? You being in charge?”
“Obviously.”
He safely set you on the ground and you brushed your dress-skirt down, before twirling around and throwing your arms around his neck.
“What?” He asked, smiling down at your happy face.
“I’m in charge.” You tried to say seriously, but you were too drunk to be in complete control of your face.
“Okay.” Harry gave in, kissing your forehead.
“No, I am. I really am.”
“I know.”
“That means I can control you to do loads of things for me.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?” Harry asked, even though he was ready to say yes to everything.
“Umm, buy me flowers every day.”
He kissed you then, “Done.”
“Okay,” You blushed, “Hmm. Come on beach walks with me every weekend - no matter how far from the coast we are.”
He kissed you again then, “Yup.”
“Uhh what about…”
Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. “Yes, yes, yes. Yes to anything and everything. Boss me around all day everyday, I don’t care as long as you’re happy, my love.”
“I am. Very happy.”
You leaned up to kiss him properly then, showing him just how much you love him. You scrunched the small hair on the back of his neck and pulled him closer, moving in tandem with each other like you’d known each other a lifetime not only five years.
You pulled away first but quickly moved to kiss his jaw and leading down his neck, kissing and nipping at the skin to give him a hickey.
“Babe… No!” Harry laughed, knowing how much you loved giving him hickeys but never somewhere everyone could see.
“Nooooo.” You whined as he pulled your head away from his neck.
“Baby, you’re drunk and I’m drunk but I know we’re going to be mad at each other if you give me a public hickey. So be good and stop.”
You scrunched your face up in pretend anger.
“You’re annoying.” You kiss him on the lips once more.
“So are you.”
“That’s not very nice.” You feigned shock.
“Aww, are you sad?”
“Don’t taunt me.” You rolled your eyes.
“Lemme kiss you to make up for it.” Harry leaned in to kiss you but you shoved your hand on his face and pushed him away before he could.
You laughed as he pretended to be hurt by your action, but you ran off down the road before he could say or do anything.
He shook his head with a smile as he watched you go, nearly tripping over a cobble stone even in your flat shoes.
“Y/N/N, be careful.”
You stood at the end of the alley watching Harry still standing there with a fond smile.
“C’mon! I hear music.” You urged him.
So he came.
He wandered over to you casually, feeling like he had all the time in the world to spend with you. Every moment of his was now yours and he couldn’t be happier to share them all with you. You. He sometimes couldn’t believe he’d managed to end up with you.
You held out a hand for him and he took it, slinking his fingers through yours.
You hummed in delight and the both of you walked in silence, off towards the vibrant music of the city to dance the night to new beginnings.
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loveshotzz · 6 months
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18+
summary: The rainy night Steve asks you to move in with him.
wc: 1k
warnings: fem!reader, older!steve, age gap (steve is 43, reader is 30), p in v sex, cream pie, slightly subby begging steve, slight breeding kink, mentions of drinking at dinner.
This blurb belongs to my series All I Really Want Is You but can be read as a stand alone. Just missed my favorite old man 🥺
Steve’s forehead is pressed to yours, sweat dripping off that one strand that just won’t stay back with a love drunk stare that threatens to swallow you whole. You almost get lost in the gold that still shimmers in the darkness of his blown out eyes, freshly done nails digging half crescent moons into the constellations on his shoulder blades. Your knees sit on either side of his hips, sticky skin clinging to the brown leather of his couch making every bounce on his lap threaten to rub them raw, but you could care less. Not when he’s looking at you like this.
The rain hits the sliding glass door of his backyard, beige curtains drawn hiding you both from the two day rain storm that’s kept you away from your apartment and mostly in his bed. One of his arms loops around your waist, holding you close from the small of your back.
Chest to chest, his coarse hairs tickle the soft skin of your breasts, long fingers digging into the plush curve of your hip. A palm as warm as the electric fireplace behind you cups the back of your neck, the pad of his thumb rubbing circles against the sensitive spot behind your ear he likes to kiss every morning.
Spearmint and whiskey from the drinks you had at dinner fill the space between you with every breath that fans against your lips. Sweet nothings said with drunken abandon, noses bumping with every thrust, the length of him stretching you in a way that has your eyes roll in the back of your head every time he meets the roll of your hips.
“If you think I’m letting you resign that lease this summer,” he breathes, somehow pulling you even closer, making him go deeper, whispering a sweet ‘I know’ when you whine before finishing his thought, “you’re crazy honey.”
Thunder rumbles in the distance outside, your walls fluttering around him in a way that makes him twitch inside of you, eyebrows marrying together when your fingers find their way into the silver and chestnut hair that curls at the nape of his neck.
“Tryin’ to keep me all to yourself huh?” You tease, the liquid courage helping you stay calm at the realization of what he was implying. A conversation you’ve both tiptoed around when five nights a week sleepovers between places became a regular thing.
His top lip catches on your bottom, the corners of his mouth twitching in a smirk before he steals a kiss that has you chasing his tongue with yours letting him take control. The grip on your waist tightens, stopping your movements while the roll of his hips becomes pointed in your undoing.
”God, yes baby, please.” He moans, perfect teeth nipping at your bottom lip when you tug on his roots, the tip of him teasing the spot that has you gasping his name, “I want you every day, please.”
The thumb behind your ear applies just enough pressure for you to turn your head to the side, letting him kiss a sloppy trail up your jaw, whispering ‘please’ after each one. Loosening his hold enough for you to grind your hips, you meet his thrusts in a way that has the hair on his pelvic bone catch your clit with the perfect pressure over and over again.
”Oh my god, Steve.” You gasp, pulling at his hair hard enough for his lips to meet yours again. Something a little smug behind them.
“Yeah?” His hot breath makes you shudder as you find just the right rhythm.
“Feels s’good, you always make me fuck -“ the buildup you’ve already had three times today returns like its the first time all over again, lashes tickling the tops of your cheeks.
“I know honey, I can feel it, you can give it to me, you know I want it.” He hums against your lips, the tip of his tongue teasing yours.
The hand on your hip snakes between your thighs, the pad of his thumb finding your clit, rubbing the kind of messy circles that has your legs start to shake.
”Wanna make you cum every day, please.” Grunting when the roll of your hips makes his toes curl against the hardwood floor, he knows he’s not going to last much longer.
“Tell me you’re gonna let me baby.” Steve practically whines and all you can do is nod because even every day doesn’t seem like enough.
What’s longer than forever?
“Cum inside me,” you whine, “I want it, god, I need it.”
The groan that rumbles from his chest at your request is enough to rival the thunder that gets close enough to shake the house, and the band that wound up tight enough to snap finally does just that, your cunt giving him no choice but to listen to you as you fall apart on his lap.
“Anything - anything you want.” He pants against your open mouth, twitching against your fluttering walls before spilling everything that’s left of him inside of you. The blunt ends of his nails dig into your hip keeping you close so you have to take every last bit, one day hoping you’ll want it to stick.
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˖✧ Through my eyes
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✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: Karen explains Mary and Arthur's story to you. Saddened, you're convinced you could never compete with her until the man in question proves you wrong. ✦ Warnings/Tags: Self-depreciation from both sides, kissing, comfort, fluff. Reader has been with the gang for a year. Use of Y/N. ✦ Words: 2,8k ✦ a/n: This is the answer to this ask by the lovely @crystalofmoon19. I really hope you'll like it, dear! And thank you for your support, you've been really sweet to me and my work! As always, I got carried away and wrote way too much. And as always, please reach out to me if you spot any misspellings. Also idk why I made this in Colter, guess I just feel way too hot rn and want some fresh snow + Arthur's coat is perfect for comfort. Credits. Arthur's pic is from my playthrough. Other pics are not mine found them on Pinterest.
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“And in the end, she rejected his proposal, then a few months later, sent him a letter telling she was marrying some wealthier gentleman!”
Your mouth hangs open in the air. Karen’s words enter through your ears and create a nice little nest for themselves in your brain. You had no idea. No idea Arthur had been this close to being married. That their relationship had been so strong, that, according to hearsays, he had reached his lowest after their break up, drunk most part of the day, fighting the rest of the time, obnoxious to everyone, even Dutch and Hosea.
“Y/N? You’re okay, there?” Karen asked you, disappointed her big reveal had left you reactionless.
You focused your gaze back on her. Her blonde hair is softly litten up by the setting sun, her breath exhaling a puff of steam as she breathes. Colter is a cold place, and it probably felt even colder because of the morose mood of the gang. You suddenly remember you’re supposed to be shocked. You are, of course, but in a very bad way. Not in an “Oh my God, I can’t believe this Karen, so much gossip!” kind of way.
How could you ever compete with that?
“Yeah, I’m alright. God, I had no idea so much happened between them.”
“Oh, trust me, it was definitely his biggest love story. Never saw him get into someone else after her. Not even Mary-Beth! Could you believe that?”
No, you couldn’t. You weren’t sure why but every word from Karen felt like an enormous stone falling into your belly and dragging you deeper and deeper into the sea. Your silly little crush on Arthur, when you first joined the gang a year ago, had turned into a way stronger attraction. Denying it at first, you had little by little let your emotions win, cherishing every moment with him, thanking Dutch for assigning both of you to the same missions, loving the quiet evenings where he would just sit next to you around the campfire to scribble in his journal while you would do your little hobby on your own. Silent most, but enjoying each other’s company, and so, so peaceful.
More than your emotions, you even had let your imagination take the lead, dreaming about a selfish future with him, seeing it every time he would give you a smile, or laugh at one of your jokes. A happy Arthur, relieved from his obligations, enjoys life's simplest joys. A house, a garden. Maybe a dog, considering he had loved having Copper. A marriage even. And why not a child? If he would feel ready. Something in you was telling you he would be a good father.
But now, you felt like this dream was rotten, condemned.  Like a broken match. The fire, the very thing it’s designed for,  not being able to be lit. Would never be lit. A wasted potential.
You tried to continue your gossiping chat with Karen, voice light but gaze elusive as you peeled the potatoes you were supposed to prepare while discussing, tedious tasks often ended up less difficult this way when you were working with the other girls. But behind your seemingly normal smile and hollow words, a haunting thought was hanging on to you as strongly as a rock trapped in a thousand-year-old iceberg. 
Arthur never fell in love again after Mary Linton.
Night had definitely fallen on the frozen mountains. After your endless vegetables centered-chores, you had helped Mr. Pearson turning them into a decent meal, his incessant blattering about the Navy giving you some sort of distraction. During dinner and after though, once you didn’t have any goal or job left to do for the day, your conversation with Karen came back into your wandering mind, her speech playing again and again like a used gramophone record.
Never fell in love again...
Sitting at one of the corners of the big cabin you had been sleeping in for the past few days along with the girls and some other gang members which mainly served as a common space, you were looking outside by a dilapidated window. A frozen World spread out before your eyes, every inch of surface covered in snow and ice, the landscape ending up looking like it was coated with a thick strange substance —dark blue colors Queen of this gloomy, misty horizon.
Arthur had returned from a very busy hunting day with Charles. Thanks to them, meat had been added to the vegetable paradise of a meal, resulting in a better-than-usual supper. He should have felt cheerful, but his mood wouldn't lighten. 
He had spotted you from across the room, noticing the hurtful absence of your smile on these sweet lips of yours. Smile he secretly loved. Lips he secretly fancied. 
Hesitating for a long moment, debating with himself, a self-depreciative rambling turning in his head like a well-oiled motor, he had ultimately decided to join you and investigate. Something pretty important must been bothering you, because loosing your usual little grin and eating your plate all by yourself really wasn't in your habits.
Approaching you, his boots and spurs clicking and stomping before you could see him, he plants them in front of you, standing there while his eyes lock on your face.
“Miss Y/L/N? Is everythin’ okay?”
“Oh, Mr Morgan. Yeah, don’t worry. Everything is great.”
He doesn’t believe you and honestly, you wouldn’t have convinced yourself either. And Arthur is a stubborn man. A stubborn, and caring one. He leans against the cabin's old creaky walls, on the other side of the window.
“Come on, don’t lie t’me girl. Everyone noticed you’re not in your right mind.” He honestly doesn’t know about everyone, but he surely did. His words are accompanied by a small, polite smile.
“I don’t think… I don’t think you’re the right person to talk about it.”
Arthur’s entire body froze. The hands he had on his belt as always when he was comfortable, flew to his chest as he crossed his arms, his thick winter coat folding with difficulty. His encouraging smile flattened, his brows pleating in a harsh frown.
“Erm… Alright, I get it. I won’t bother you, I guess.” 
Without loosening his arms, he pushed himself from the wall, taking a step to leave you some space. You couldn’t have missed it. This change of behavior, the hurtful expression he had displayed, as if he was truly pained by your words. Disappointed, maybe even shameful to have thought he could help you at all. He was just a sad, ugly bastard, after all.
You felt like you could hear all of it from where you were, and see it in the shadow that had taken his face and the gigantic mass that seemed to have fallen on his shoulders.
No, you didn’t want this. Didn’t want him to feel like that because of you and your stupid feelings, or your own dark thoughts.
“Wait, Arthur!”
He turned around the second you talked again.
“I’m sorry it’s just…” You sigh and look at him with an uncertain expression, knowing your next words were going to be risky. “It’s about you and Mary Linton…”
His eyes turn into two literal plates, his mouth slightly opening in outer astonishment. This was really not what he had in mind. You could have been sad because of a hundred logical reasons, the death of Davey and the loss of Sean and Mac, the complete fiasco of Blackwater, the hundred of dollars lost, the terrible and tough conditions of the Grizzlies plunging everyone into an unbearable cold and a threatening famine.  Not mentioning Hosea’s alarming coughing, Dutch’s mysterious decisions, and Micah as a whole.
But you, out of all these things, were worried about Mary.
Once his eyes had grown as round as they could, they got back into an interrogative expression, the wave of surprise over.
“Wha’…?! How d’ya even know ‘bout her?”
“Karen speaks a lot when she’s bored…” You briefly explained, trying to sound detached.
Arthur rolls his eyes to the Heavens. Of course, folks talked, and you had to know about it all at some point. But this wasn’t ideal at all. He would have preferred to tell it to you himself, at a time he would have felt comfortable doing so, with his own words. He didn’t want this to change anything between the two of you.
“And erm… What exactly bothers ya?”
You open your mouth to speak, but your words are jammed. Explaining that you feel jealous of what the both of them had shared would just come down to confessing your feelings for him plain and simple. 
You felt completely stuck. 
He’s right there before your eyes, the very source of all your worries and your every joy. Looking at you with those confused blue eyes, wondering what is happening in this pretty head of yours. But the words still won’t come out.  You feel more and more powerless, and instead of a sound, your eyes take over to get something out of your body, slow and sad tears filling them like a lonely glacier fills a mountain lake on its own.
Arthur’s usual frown furrows, his wrinkles more visible, contrasted by the shadows from the warm lights of the fire. Suddenly, his internal melancholic speech shuts down, as if the view of a single tear streaming down your cheek were absolutely intolerable to him. No worries nor anxious self-restraints crosses his mind —it’s now only instinct. He sees you crying. He has to help you. This is as easy as that.
His right hand reaches to you by itself.
It feels warm but coarse. This big, big hand on the side of your face.
“Oh, Y/N. Don’t waste those pretty tears for a sour-faced idiot like me.” His thumb gently wipes the drops of sadness that had overflowed from your two delicate lakes. “Come on, les’ jus’ talk about this somewhere quiet.”
Arthur gently uses the hand he had on your cheek to wrap it around your shoulders, solid arm gently pushing you up. He then leads you through the door, other members throwing curious gazes at the both of you.
But he doesn’t care. His priority, right now, is your well-being, and some privacy to allow him to finally whisper things in your ears he should have a long time ago. Not in front of everyone. Not with the other men looking at your sparkling eyes, and listening to the change in his voice he knew would crack, his usual intimidating persona crushed into a million pieces with only the sound of your own. Or with the other girls hearing the oh-so-important words he had to say. No. You would be the only one to witness this. 
He had brought you to the barn where the horses were kept. The snow was falling lazily, a few flakes passing through the holes in the dilapidated roof. The place is enveloped in a heavy silence, as if it was muffling every sound coming from the outside.
Once Arthur had closed the big wooden doors behind you and before he could do anything else, you finally burst.
“I shouldn't cry, I’m so sorry Arthur, I just… She looked like an incredible woman, so beautiful a-and distinguished, and me well… I'm just… me.” Your eyes fell to your feet. You like everything was coming out of you all at once and you couldn't contain it anymore.
“Stop it.” 
“How could I ever mean something to you? You've been with her for so long and even proposed to her and… and never fell in love again after her and…”
“Stop it, Y/N!”
Arthur cut your blabbering panic by pulling you against him. He held you so tightly you were almost crushed by his powerful arms, but it felt so good. Like he was holding together all the little pieces of you that had cracked, melting them with his warmth and molding yourself again with it.
“Now you l’sten to me, sweetheart. I don’t want ya to say things like this ever again.”
The sudden use of the pet name soothed your heart immediately. You buried your face into the furred collar of his big winter coat, the hairs tickling your nose. There, you can feel a little bit of his bare skin, your cheek finding shelter against it.
You stopped talking.
You just wanted him to continue to. His deep voice seemed to come directly from the inside of his chest, and you could feel it vibrating before actually hearing it.
“Ya know I’m no… Am no poet or, or good with words like Dutch…” He started, visibly unsure of what he was going to say. He’s relieved he had initiated the hug, this way, with your face in there, you couldn’t see his. The worried expression it was carrying, like a burden. “But lemme tell ya just how much I care about ya. Oh, my sweet girl.” 
This is it. He tries not to but his low tone begins to tremble. It’s so strange. It feels like forever since that happened for the last time.
“Yeah, Mary has been a real’ important part of my life, I won’t lie to ya. But it was so long ago, gorgeous. So long ago.” 
He knows he won’t shed a tear. He never cries. But his hands shake. His vocal cords vibrate in a vulnerable, softer, and higher-pitched quaver. His body tenses, heart as fast as if racing with a million wild horses galloping in the Great Plains. Even if his words couldn’t explain just how much you meant to him, you could have guessed by how you were affecting his entire flesh.
“Ya know what? It’s true. Our story ended badly. I never fell in love again after her.”
You sigh, more tears wetting your face and his blue coat, this truth so hard to swallow.
“Until that morning, when I saw you brushing Boadicea’s mane; your hair all covered in hay, the brightest smile I ever had the chance to witness on that sweet face o’ yours. That day, I knew my stupid foolish heart had done it all over again.”
You let out a single chuckle mixed with tears and emotions, so relieved. Even when you felt like you were at your lowest, he succeeded at making you smile.
“Grimshaw had forced me to groom all the gang’s horses to “get used to camp’s work”. Must have looked terrible.” You remembered with a smile, details of your first encounter with Arthur flooding your mind.
“You looked like a goddamn Angel, honey. T’was like the sun was shining jus’ for ya. Jesus, I knew it was too late for me.”
You pulled back from him just a little, enough for you to look at him in the eyes, but not for him to let go of you. Now that they had found you, his hands, still slightly quivering, refused to let go, their place on your back and behind your head feeling so natural and right. Your eyes behave the same way as them but with his face. He looks so moved that you have to pinch yourself internally to make sure you’re not dreaming this whole thing; never in your life you had seen him like this.
“I love you too, Arthur.” You confessed back to him, fingers cupping his cheeks in a delicate touch.
You had to stand on your tiptoes to reach his face, but his arm helped you, your lips gently discovering themselves, brushing against each other in a soft and shy caress. Even if both your mouths were chapped by the biting cold, it was the most gentle kiss you had shared in your life, a satiny embrace that left you completely dreamy and light-headed.
The snowflakes silently swirl around the both of you, Nature the only witness of your souls melting into each other.
Opening your eyes again after this moment out of time, you're met with the happiest smile Arthur ever had on his face. He looked like and idiot in love, and you were sure you looked exactly the same.
“Please darlin’, don’t ever compare yourself to her ever again. What’s in the past stays there. And I wanna have a future with you.”
Your dreams sprang back straight from your heart to your mind. The visions you had about the both of you were more alive than ever, reinforced by his own needs shared with yours.
“You’re sweet, you’re funny, you’re so smart and stunningly gorgeous. And, you wan’ a proof?” He playfully asks you, taking his hat off his head, a thin layer of snow falling from it.
Turning it over, he carefully pull a piece of paper out, hidden between two leathered segments in the inner part of his hat. His cut and reddened fingers unfold it and he gives it to you, his big smile turning into an embarrassed and sheepish one.
It’s a sketch of you.
You’re mesmerized by the details of it, the blades of hay messily tangled in your hair, the sparkling in your eyes, the exact clothes you were wearing that day. This smile, you’re more than certain he drew it way more beautiful than it really is. Arthur even had added some lines traced from your head to the end of the paper, as if you were the Sun itself and were emitting your own light.
This was impossible this was the same person as you, her beauty was too radiant and fascinating.
But no matter what you thought about yourself, seeing his work curled your lips in the exact same way as yourself on the drawing. With snowflakes replacing the twigs, you had turned into the living recreation of it. Arthur laughed when he noticed, and realized just how much he had loved you and continued to since that morning from a year ago. He bent towards you to put a small kiss on your forehead.
“Arthur it’s… It’s beautiful.” You find it difficult to find another word, speechless once again. 
You also had no idea of how talented at drawing nor attracted to you he was. This day definitely was full of surprises. You chuckled fondly before taking a last look at your portrait and giving it back to your lover. But Arthur’s large palm wrapped around your hand.
“No, please, keep it. This way, you’ll always remember how you look through my eyes.”
More tears threaten to escape your own, even though those were a direct extract from the immeasurable happiness you were experiencing.
“And... Now that I don’t have to hide myself while sketching ya, I’m going to draw lots of new ones.”
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tagging: @a-court-of-valkyries Thank you for reading all of this! Also, I didn't know this was a thing but if ever you want to be tagged in my works too, let me know! It would be my pleasure.
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bainutwater85 · 3 months
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can i get nsfw headcanons about any naruto characters? your choice !!
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characters: gaara, kiba, kakashi, shikamaru
cw: cum, anal, vibrators, dick sizes, fem reader with fem parts
a/n: hope u enjoy! also i’m writing for them during the time naruto and hinata got married (?) i know they were like 19-23 or 24
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GAARA !
when you two are alone: he likes when you lay on him n he rubs your back inching his way down to you ass, rubbing it and kneading it in his hands.
twerk on this man, give him a lap dance i swear to god he won’t be disappointed by anything you shake. his eyes will be wide and he’ll have the biggest smile on his face, if y’all are drunk and doing this then you’ll definitely be fucking wherever you are at. Most likely will come in his pants..
his balls are tight and full, not big but average size for his age. Loves when you just lay next to him and invade his space then slipping a hand in his pants to massage his balls; especially when he’s cramping there to.
he’s not much of a sex guy but definitely prefers dry humping over the real dick in the ass thing, if yknow what i mean. you 2 just get the grind on..slow and sensual. & by dry humping— he’s not humping you like a wild animal, just dragging his boner across your leg/thigh. You do the same..just without ur panties (^_^)
Don’t get me wrong..he’ll have sex and release his load in you or on you a few times— he just has a..in between sex drive (?) basically: sex isn’t always on his mind unless you propose to it and if he’s having a rough day (which is almost everyday & barely resorts to sex to get relaxed) anywayss. With that being said i really feel like he likes to take sex slow so your foreplay will last about 15-20 mins and another 20 while he’s kissing every crack and creavice of your body.
⤴︎ i also feel like he’s big into role play. Like yes, i’ll be the princess and you’ll be the evil big bad wizard that needs my love and touch. Or yes you can be the UPS guy and i can be the mom of 2 college and highschool kids during the summer waiting for my dildo to arrive because me and my husband divorced a few months ago
he don’t lick pussy he SUCKS pussy. he don’t give you fast kitten licks he will head straight for the clit and suck on it like a pacifier and rub it when he’s done.
his cum has an easy flow and isn’t too thick but he spurts out a lot. Also average size with an average girth, 6.4 inches at best🙌🏾
KIBA !
biggg ash, GIRTH && LENGTH WISE. i’d say 6.6 at least. n he lovesss it when you whine and tell him it don’t or won’t fit & try to push him back a bit by his abdomen or run. just for him to grab you by the hips/waist and start pounding into you
unlike gaara he will dive in and lick your pussy clean. sorry not sorry, he has no pussy eating technique and does what he saw a man do on a porno he seen when he 12 years old. yeahhhp
why fuck one hole when you can fuck 3? we all say in usion. He’s an anal god & prefers the butthole than the vagina or mouth.
speaking of mouth..he likes a little teeth on his cock, not a lot tho😗 cause it “tickles” he says.
Guys..he does not have breeder balls..i’m sorry :(. They aren’t small they just aren’t as big but they don’t sag either..they’re TIGHT. tight like if he was to go soft rn his ball sacks would be a futon for his penis
also has bad ball cramps and whines so much when you can’t or won’t help him with it. But “its fine” he says, just don’t beg for any dick post- shark week 😒. && to top it all off he is a MASTER MASTURBATER. when he got with you he stopped watching porn and used his imagination with you being the the source of material.
sleeps bare butt ass naked with his balls all out jus free ballin like we’re in the paleoithic age💀
ass eater ass eaterr. he don’t care if you ain’t shower this morning he wants to go in and down. He’s a free and wild man when it comes to sex, LITERALLY.
whines the most and hates to admit it but he just can’t help how tight you are. Like you wrap around him just right and it makes him come on the spot sometimes
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they don’t mind a bush or fuzzy peach. But kiba is the one to cry when you shave or get a wax down there 😗 the others don’t mind if it’s hairy, a little hair never hurt them and plus “we grown” kakashi, kiba and SHIKAMARU say in harmony 😭
+ all of the character listed above
KAKASHI !
always and i mean alwaysss has to have a hand on your ass and tits. it’s not even in a horny or sexual way— he just wants to squeeze and feel the squish of your body. Unknowingly massages them to and you don’t even point it out, then he’s moving his hand looking down at your nipple like “why is it hard?” man you just gave top tier massage that could clear migraines and cramps.
his dick is big and he knows ittt. Sitting on his lap is enough for his dick to go in ‘up mode’ he will nottt back down or let YOU back down when you tease him and try to leave him by hiself with a hardon, no ma’am..you’re gonna finish what you started.
never fully gets naked when you two are having sex. his shirt is off, pants down and his dick coming out the deisgined hole of his boxers. Your bra over your tits and panties pulled to the side.
he lives in the country and rural era of konoha so yes you suck his dick and he eats you out on his back patio, what about it?
doesn’t want you having any dildos, he doesnt know why it makes him so upset you need a FAKE cock to make you cum when you have him. The only sex toys he’ll allow is a vibrator and butt plug. Speaking of vibrators, he so fascinated by the way your plump pussy lips move when you use it😫
preps you all the time, you two could’ve been fucking since the day you got together, he’s still gonna prep you either way cause mans is BIG. he’s more of a shower than grower tho 😗
6.7in when soft and 7inch hard. His girth isn’t wide..it’s more on the skinny side but he reaches places better with the size and length. Once you cried so hard and almost reached your breaking point when his thrust kept getting deeper and slower cause he was hitting the entrance to your cervix and lord was it painful yet pleasing at once.
his balls are average but they sag, not low but they got some weight to em on the inside 😭
SHIKAMARU !
wants to makes movies with you and has made movies with you. But it’s premium tho so only you and him only see it.
always and i mean alwayssss has a hand in your panties or on your thigh. You two would be chillin in the living room, the floor or in the bed (most of the times the bed) and he’ll just sneak his through and just rub your clit. he doesn’t finger you just rubs you slowly, occupied with his phone and your pussy while he’s just strolling through social media and getting you off all at once.
fav position is most likely doggystyle. Why? because if you both are getting your freak on and wanting to watch something..you can do both.
lazy sex..need i say more? he’s got you laying on top of him with his dick barely all the way inside you and giving half ass thrusts while you both are half away and naked at the crack of morning
hates pulling out, says it ruins the good feeling when you’re about to cum. Naw sweetie he just wants to be a dad of a cheerleading team. He might wanna be one and done or 2 kids but the way he cums inside of you..😗 it says otherwise. he doesn’t even pull out till you guys wake up, and if he did so you can go pee and get it out your system— he’s gonna ease way back in and go to bed like that 😭
another sagger and shower but not a grower. He’s average, length and girth. 6.6 hard and 6.6 soft. It’s just limpy yknow?.
also sleeps naked well semi-naked. but you? oh he makes you strip down to your socks and earrings. he wants you skinned down to the toess. He only sleeps in a bare of boxers and time out time he uses rhat as his advantage. won’t even take them off to pull his dick out. he either slips it through the hole of his pants or over the hem of the boxers. Somtimes doesn’t even take it out himself and gets you to do it by grinding it agaisnt you or pulling you closer to it.
cums a lot and cums whenever and wherever tbh. on your face in your mouth, wipes it off for you tho. One thing he lovessss to do is slap his tip on your lips or cheeks he just loves slapping his cock all over your face anyways
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bunnys-kisses · 20 days
Note
hello! i’m here to make a bakery order! id love to see a croissant and loaf of whole wheat bread with a sangria as the side, served by daniel ricciardo! possibly christian horner’s daughter reader 🫣🫣🫣
bakery menu!
want to submit your own order? go wild with the menu! there's all kinds of items on there and i'm working tiredlessly to finish them all! thank you in advance for anything you send! as for this lovely anon, this captured me right away! i find so many love our danny ricc, so thank you for the order!
croissant ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + loaf of whole wheat bread ("you're going to shut that mouth and take me.") + sangria (drunk sex) served by daniel ricciardo (formula one)!!
cw: smut/pwp, drunk sex, horner!reader, dirty talk/degrading language, doggy style, snark and sarcasm
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daniel shouldn't have let the liquor run his mouth. he knew he should've kept this words to himself, it was so fucking stupid. but what he really needed right now was the devil on his shoulder, enabling his drunken ideas. and his good friend max verstappen was the perfect man in red.
"what colour do you think her panties are?" daniel asked as he turned max's head toward your direction, max was pretty much gone. currently you were seated with a drink in your hand. he knew you were drunk because you were flirty.
max looked at you for a moment and narrowed his eyes. he then chuckled before he took another healthy sip of his gin and tonic. he hit the glass a little too hard against the table and barked, "i don't know, mate. ask her!" then slapped his teammate on the shoulder.
but there was a small problem. daniel was driving for red bull and you were christian horner's daughter.
"what did you just ask me?" you said as you downed the rest of your drink, "do you have a wager or some shit with verstappen." you rested against the table a little, "are you fucking kidding me?" you got louder when you drank, just like your father.
he looked at you with those big eyes and asked, "can i see 'em anyway?" what should've been met with a slap across the face was instead met with him being pulled into an uber. the sound of max's laugh echoed in his brain.
you were both painfully drunk, this was a mistake waiting to happen. but while he couldn't make mistakes on the track. he'd be happy to flip his entire world inside out if it meant getting to fuck your sweet pussy.
"what about your father?" he asked before you made out him in the back of the car, your hands in his tie. his hand up the skirt of your dress, rubbing your upper thigh.
you pulled away and said, "danny. i don't care what my father wants right now? he's not even in the country." which surprised daniel before he pulled back into a searing kiss. you were both hands-y. when the uber arrived back at your home, you left another tip in case for the driver for all their trouble of transporting two drunk idiots.
your apartment was small given your status. but it was filled with charm. you both bumped into things as you tried to kick your shoes off. daniel's lips were on yours as you led him to the bedroom. your back clipped the door frame before you got both of you into the room. you were both stumbling as you got the light on.
"fuck, danny."
"i know, i know. i got ya."
"i'm such an idiot for letting you pick me up with that stupid line." you dropped to the bed and started to take off your dress. you looked so pretty, even drunk as hell with heat in your cheeks. you looked at him with want, "like jesus christ i'm stupid."
he took his tie off and took off his shirt, "well, call me curious. i want to know what horner's daughter wears underneath all those baggy shirts." he laughed.
you rolled your eyes, "fuck you, ricciardo. and stop mentioning my old man."
he pouted palyfully as he swayed a little in his stance. he could feel the alcohol ruining his critical thinking skills. he said, "i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me."
you huffed as you got down to your undergarments. cute baby blue boy shorts and a white bra with a blue bow in the middle. it made daniel stop in his tracks, his hands on his belt. you said in a stern tone, "if you want to keep talking to my dad, i can send you on a flight to let him fuck you." your words were biting.
he got the belt off and snapped it together threateningly, "don't make me gag you, princess."
"oh really?" you tilted your head to the side. the liquor you had gave you a sense of courage, "is someone worried that they're going to be shafted from the team? have to fuck me in a last ditch attempt to have a chance of being as good as max verstappen."
daniel laughed as he got closer to the bed. he got his slacks off and soon his underwear. leaving him naked, but he wasn't vulnerable. if anything there was a darkness that laid under him. the alcohol fueled something in his brain.
"oh sweet little horner. that's really sweet coming from you. at least i win, you can barely get past university. you'll be lucky to find a rich husband that can handle that mouth of yours." he got into bed with you, soon your underwear was off of you and daniel had you laid out under him. his cock pressed against your ass and his bulkier frame kept you pinned down to the bed. he held your jaw and said, "the horner name is only so good. i wonder if your pussy gives you any value. so, you're going to shut that mouth and take me. got it?"
you felt the alcohol flood your head more. you could barely form words, it was like daniel riccicardo melted any processing power in your head. you nodded and daniel slapped your ass.
"see, that's what i like to see. you feel so good under me.' daniel could already feel the heat on his back. his heart raced at the feeling of your soft skin under his hands. you were perfect for him. painfully beautiful. in all fairness, he forgot what colour your panties were, green? pink? whatever, this was more important.
he rubbed his cock up against you until he managed to get in between your thighs. getting right to your pussy, the feeling almost took the breath out of him. holy shit, you were perfect.
"where has your father been hiding you, beautiful?" he purred in a low tone which made your hips shift, "is that why he sent you to boarding school, so you wouldn't be a slut around the paddock." his words were poison and his thrusts were brutal, "i asked you what colour your panties were and you basically were sucking my cock." he groaned, "i bet if max came to you first, he'd be fucking you right now." he kissed at your cheek as he lifted your hips to get a better angle.
"never. god, never." you groaned.
"awww, is verstappen not good enough? get your bastard father and his bastard father in the same room." daniel chuckled, "in-laws from hell."
you groaned and kicked out your legs a little, "stop mentioning my dad, you asshole." but before you could say anything more, daniel had your head in the covers as he started to really work at your pussy.
"why? he's such a lovely man. zero issues with him whatsoever." he panted heavily in your ear, "i wonder if he'd know if you were here. if some loud mouth told him. that you were squirming under me, letting me use and abuse that pussy of yours."
you gripped onto the covers and moaned loudly. you felt your heart racing in your ears as you back arched. he kept you so nicely pinned between him and the best. there was no escaping out from under him.
"danny please."
"you beg so pretty." he said softly, "i should've asked you sooner. maybe i should've flashed them to max. i bet he would've liked to see what horner's been hiding from us." his words were liquid in your brain, frying any cognitive thought. the rush of everything made the liquor move through your head even more. you panted heavily against the covers as he continued to thrust inside of you.
"please, danny. fuck. i just wanted you. you stupid idiot!" you whined, "i wanted you and your dumb cock!"
"you like this don't you? you like having your insides rearranged by me." daniel barked a laugh as he continued to rut against you. he felt so deep inside of you.
"fuck." you groaned, not even able to deny it. it all felt so good, and you wanted to kill him for it. you hated that he polluted your brain like strong liquor.
he chuckled and kissed the side of your head, "see, being my good girl is always worth it. just let me take care of you." but he knew you'd be done soon. his words lived in your head and you panted into the covers.
"you drive me fucking insane."
"oh i know. i'm in your head all the time." he laughed.
"shit. danny." you whined as you clawed at the covers. your back arched like a cat and giving the perfect angle for daniel to fuck up into you. you held on for dear life as you climaxed around his cock. you panted into the covers.
daniel continued to move against you, using your hips to bounce you on his cock. you felt like a dream come true. his cock bullied your sweet pussy. he whispered in your ear, filth as he came inside of you. his hips against you a few more times before he stopped. he laid on top of you for a moment as he caught his breath.
your heart hammered in your chest as he eventually got on his side next to you. he bundled you up in his arms and held you close to him. there was heaving breathing between the two of you.
daniel pulled you in for another kiss, and the liquor in his head told him one thing. he wasn't letting you go.
-
"ricciardo." horner said. he sighed and crossed his arms. he looked like a disappointment parent more than a boss.
daniel put his best smile on, hiding the looming anxiety. why was he called into horner's office like he was a school boy in trouble. he replied, "yes, mister horner."
"you're a good driver. a good man. i hold a great deal of respect for you. so tell me why my daughter has to extend her time at university because she has asked for a semester off?"
daniel raises his eyebrows, "because academia is hard?"
"no, daniel. because according to verstappen you left a party with my daughter and now she turns up pregnant." he sighed, but kept his gaze on the man in front of him, "i hope you know if you skip out on her, you'll be in a world of trouble."
daniel swallowed at the news. he got horner's daughter pregnant. he. got. you. pregnant. the electricity of the news made him stand up, he said loudly, "shit. i have to buy a ring!" he wasn't letting his child go without! he looked to horner and said, "i have to go. tell your daughter to meet me tonight! i'll have a ring for her, sir!" before he high tailed it out of the office.
horner dropped his shoulders. at least the kid was responsible. while he didn't know the details of exactly how you ended up in bed with his driver. but it could've been a lot worse. as he rubbed his temples, it could've been worse. it could've been verstappen. <3
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floatmeintothesun-2 · 9 months
Text
Drunken Love
Pairing; Miguel O’hara x afab! Reader
Tags; grinding, lazy sex, smut, cumming in pants, word count 2.2k
Summary; Miguel really can’t keep his hands to himself when you’re sitting in his lap like this.
18+ MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI
You’re intoxicating, Miguel reflects, watching you seat yourself on his lap with lidded eyes. He can’t get enough, you’ve got him utterly hooked. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing your hips and ass at equal pace.
He had a glass of alcohol in his hand a moment prior before it was set aside and forgotten in the haze that had consumed him. He can’t get drunk anymore — not since he was genetically altered but he feels light headed and dizzy  just from your presence. 
He tilts his head up to look at you, lips curving in a smile as he reclines back into his chair. One of your hands is in his hair, carding through dark brown strands. The other is on his cheek, your thumb smoothing over warm skin. 
“What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing here in my apartment?” He asks with a grin, pulling you closer to him. You smile back.
“Mm… I don’t know,” You hum, “I’m looking for my boyfriend. Have you seen him?” Your index traces a light path down his jaw leading down his neck. He can’t help but shiver, tilting his head a little as you reach his collarbone.
“Well, you’re in luck, pretty girl,” Miguel nearly purrs, palming flesh and sliding his hands underneath your top so he can feel your skin against his. “I’m right here.”
You laugh and fuck, he doesn’t think he’s heard a sound sweeter than that. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger and you know it. He sucks in a quiet breath as your hand slides down to his chest, tweaking one of his nipples playfully through his shirt. He bares teeth at you with no heat, content to let you do whatever you want with him.
You shift so that you’re properly straddling him and Miguel can feel himself already half hard under you. He holds you at the place under your breasts, wandering hands slipping under your bra and unclasping the hook in the back nimbly. You sigh, deep and low as large hands palm at your tits greedily. 
“Someone’s impatient.” You kiss the corner of his jaw, and he turns his head so he can catch your next on his lips. 
“Hard not to be,” Miguel breathes, trailing his lips from the corner of your mouth to your neck. And truly, it’s hard not to be. How can he possibly be patient when you’re on top of him like this? You look practically ethereal as the dim light from the overhead light shines down on you.
“Take this off?” You pull at his shirt – it’s old, a simple black tee that used to hang off him in his college years. Now, it’s tight against his skin, easily displaying hard lines of muscle, stretching across broad shoulders. He obliges your request, pulling it over his head, feeling the chill in the air soak into his bare skin before your warmth chases it away. 
Hands, smaller than his, flutter down his bare abdomen, feather light touches trailing down his ribs before rising to settle on his shoulders. Miguel peppers kisses over your face, moving his own hands so he can press you down in his lap. He pokes at your bottoms, a finger tugging at the waistband. 
“Take this off?” He mimics you, raising his eyebrows a little as you laugh.  
“Don’t wanna get up,” You reply, and he shrugs, grabbing greedy handfuls of your ass. You give him a look and —
Miguel hisses, low in his throat at the feeling of your body grinding down against his and suddenly his dick is much more than just half hard. Sticky pre seeps out of him and he swallows dryly, your heady scent swirling in the air. If he was any lesser man, he would’ve passed out by now. And also probably busted. 
“You’re a minx, pretty girl,” He rasps, clenching his jaw. Fuck, he can practically feel how wet your pussy is, can fucking smell your damn arousal through the air. It’s making him dizzy with need, he can barely think. Your arms loop around his neck leisurely as you lean in to kiss him – something he welcomes readily. 
“Would you have me any other way?” You tilt your head, coy. He almost misses your words with the way he’s focusing on your gorgeous body. 
“No. I wouldn’t,” He whispers, big hands forcing your hips down onto the hard shape of his cock. Making you feel how bad he wants you right now. His tip is pressing against your clit through the fabric and god, he’s so big, tenting through his sweatpants. You swallow back a moan as his hips twitch up, pressing against you in just the right angle. 
Your panties are practically soaked by now, needy pussy pulsing to have him inside of you. But you’re too impatient to get up and discard your undergarments, heat coursing through your veins like molten fire. His huge frame dwarfs yours easily but right now, it’s you who’s on top of him, you who’s making this 6 foot 9 inch man moan and hiss with every teasing dip of your hips over his straining erection. 
His breaths come in quiet growls, and he squeezes his eyes shut as you tease and tease and tease.
“Baby, please,” He nearly whines, obedient hands resting lightly over your waist. Your cat-like grin makes sparks of halfhearted irritation and warmth dance through his nervous system. He knows you’re just as desperate as he is and he kneads your plush thighs as if trying to entice you. 
You’re addicting and infuriating, Miguel thinks to himself. He wants to bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck you until you’re sobbing in pleasure and he can barely breathe through the haze of overstimulation. He wants you to keep him right here and make him beg for just a scrap of your attention. Mostly, he just wants you. 
You finally decide to grant him some relief, messily slotting your hips against his and a ragged hum escapes Miguel’s throat, low and quiet. The shape of his dick is defined through his sweats, pressing and twitching against you through the fabric. You can’t help but moan as he rubs his tented half against you, almost like a dog in heat. You have half a mind to tease him for it, but the way he presses up against you makes your head feel foggy. 
The edges of razor sharp fangs glide over the sensitive flesh of your neck as he peppers kisses and nips to your skin indiscriminately. It’s slow, it’s messy, his hips roll upwards underneath you, searching for that sweet friction. A particularly harsh bite has you hissing lightly and Miguel soothes it over with his tongue. It doesn’t bleed, but you’re sure it’ll leave a mark. 
And he had to leave it in the most obvious place ever? Bastard. You shoot him an unamused look and he just gives you a smug expression. 
“Something wrong, hermosa?” He coos, all cloyingly saccharine, and you roll your eyes. If someone told you that this man was begging for your touch three seconds ago, you wouldn’t have believed them. 
“Don’t act cute now,” You grumble and he laughs, a wonderfully soft sound. His hands drift to the small of your back, putting pressure and lazily grinding against you, keeping your pussy anchored over his dick through layers of fabric. It’s like a haze has settled over you both, something sweet and heavy and sticky all at once. It’s languid and mind numbingly good — it’s different from the way he fucks you. You might even call it domestic. 
Something about the way Miguel stares at you feels almost reverent. He looks so pretty here, mussed up hair and heaving chest. He’s warm and you can feel it in the way his thick thighs tense and the way his hard cut abdomen presses up against you. Sticky sweetness seeps into your limbs like molasses, and you can’t help but kiss him, all teeth and tongue. His low pleased hum vibrates through his chest and vaguely, you think he tastes something like wine and spice. 
He’s sloppy and hungry, quickly deepening the kiss as he leans closer. It’s not until you’re running out of oxygen that you tap his shoulder and he pulls away, a pink tongue darting out to wet his lips. You’re panting, kiss swollen lips shiny with saliva and he’s groaning, rolling his hips upwards. His clothed cock catches on your clit deliciously and he catches on quickly, making sure to aim for that one fucking spot that makes you see stars. 
“Shit — Miguel, feels so fucking good…” you gasp into his mouth and he groans. You sound so sweet when you moan and whine on his lap. He’s head over heels for you, he decides. You could sit on his face for hours, suffocating him between plush thighs, and he’d say thank you. He’s almost tempted to pull you to the bedroom right now just so he can beg you to do just that, but fuck, with the way his dick is throbbing, he might not make it that far. 
“Just like that, baby, c’mon,” He nips at your neck lightly and licks into your mouth greedily, “you want it? Want this fat cock? I’ll give it to you, I’ll give it all, j’st cum, baby, you can do it,” quick hands come up to palm at your breasts, squeezing stiff peaks and god damn, he knows how to use them.
Your back arches, pressing your tits against his bare chest and Miguel dips to litter marks around your collar bone and lower, humming in satisfaction as you thread a hand in his hair. You’re a mess, he’s panting and groaning, hair mussed up, dark crimson eyes squeezed shut. He might just be the prettiest man you’ve ever seen.
The thing that really does it for you is the way he says your name. Breathy and pleading, it makes your head spin, and you press a searing kiss to his lips as the knot that has been slowly building finally snaps. It’s filthy, sinful, and fuck, its everything you want. 
Miguel tenses underneath you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he shudders and twitches. He sounds almost drunk from the way he’s slurring your name, honey sweet and desperate. He cums with a quiet grunt, staining his boxers with it, soaking the light gray of his sweats.
You slump against his chest and he hisses lightly as you brush against his slowly softening cock. A burly arm comes to loop around your waist, pulling you closer while you gently move sweaty strands of hair out of his face.
“Good?” He asks, and you hum in affirmation. He grimaces at the feeling of slick cum dripping down his balls. “We should get clean.”
“My thighs feel sticky,” You mutter, trying to gently extricate yourself from your boyfriend’s hold so you can walk to the restroom. He shoots you a look and sweeps you up into his arms easily, pressing an easy kiss to your neck. Instinctively, you hold onto him, leaning against his bare chest as he carries you to your shared bathroom. 
He glances at you as he pushes open the door with his foot, considering.
“Bath or shower?” Miguel tilts his head, looking remarkably composed for a man who just came in his pants a few minutes ago. 
“Shower,” You answer immediately, and he puts you down, turning to strip off his clothes and hearing you do the same. You turn on the water, setting it to both of your preferred temperatures and slip into the stall, sighing in relief at the warmth. Miguel joins you after a moment, swiping your body wash off from the corner. Technically, it’s his, but you use it so often that he just delegates it as a shared item. 
You say that his is better because it’s fancy. He doesn’t object. After all, he really doesn’t mind you smelling like him.
Squeezing some into his hand, he cleans you up, soapy suds washed away by the spray overhead as you do the same for him. You pay special attention to his pecs and ass and he just sighs like he’s annoyed. He’s not. Honestly, he doesn’t care — you can touch whatever you want. He’s all yours and he relishes that fact whole heartedly. 
Your hands trail down his chest and abdomen. He smothers a smile against your hair, pressing you up against the shower wall and hooking strong hands under your thighs. 
“Wanna go another round?” He asks, looking down at you, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. You card a hand through wet curls and he leans into it.
“Sure, why not?”
Needless to say, you don’t come out of the bathroom until much later, littered with marks and sore between the thighs. Miguel follows after you, looking utterly satisfied with himself, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist as you both enter your bedroom. It’ll be a pain to wear a scarf for the next few weeks but with the way Miguel practically drapes himself over you has you not caring. 
A problem for future you. For now, you’ll just snuggle under the covers and exchange sleepy kisses with your boyfriend. 
1K notes · View notes
floatmeintothesun · 10 months
Text
Drunken Love
Pairing; Miguel O’hara x afab! Reader
Tags; grinding, lazy sex, smut, cumming in pants, word count 2.2k
Summary; Miguel really can’t keep his hands to himself when you’re sitting in his lap like this.
18+ MINORS DNI
You’re intoxicating, Miguel reflects, watching you seat yourself on his lap with lidded eyes. He can’t get enough, you’ve got him utterly hooked. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing your hips and ass at equal pace.
He had a glass of alcohol in his hand a moment prior before it was set aside and forgotten in the haze that had consumed him. He can’t get drunk anymore — not since he was genetically altered but he feels light headed and dizzy  just from your presence. 
He tilts his head up to look at you, lips curving in a smile as he reclines back into his chair. One of your hands is in his hair, carding through dark brown strands. The other is on his cheek, your thumb smoothing over warm skin. 
“What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing here in my apartment?” He asks with a grin, pulling you closer to him. You smile back.
“Mm… I don’t know,” You hum, “I’m looking for my boyfriend. Have you seen him?” Your index traces a light path down his jaw leading down his neck. He can’t help but shiver, tilting his head a little as you reach his collarbone.
“Well, you’re in luck, pretty girl,” Miguel nearly purrs, palming flesh and sliding his hands underneath your top so he can feel your skin against his. “I’m right here.”
You laugh and fuck, he doesn’t think he’s heard a sound sweeter than that. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger and you know it. He sucks in a quiet breath as your hand slides down to his chest, tweaking one of his nipples playfully through his shirt. He bares teeth at you with no heat, content to let you do whatever you want with him.
You shift so that you’re properly straddling him and Miguel can feel himself already half hard under you. He holds you at the place under your breasts, wandering hands slipping under your bra and unclasping the hook in the back nimbly. You sigh, deep and low as large hands palm at your tits greedily. 
“Someone’s impatient.” You kiss the corner of his jaw, and he turns his head so he can catch your next on his lips. 
“Hard not to be,” Miguel breathes, trailing his lips from the corner of your mouth to your neck. And truly, it’s hard not to be. How can he possibly be patient when you’re on top of him like this? You look practically ethereal as the dim light from the overhead light shines down on you.
“Take this off?” You pull at his shirt – it’s old, a simple black tee that used to hang off him in his college years. Now, it’s tight against his skin, easily displaying hard lines of muscle, stretching across broad shoulders. He obliges your request, pulling it over his head, feeling the chill in the air soak into his bare skin before your warmth chases it away. 
Hands, smaller than his, flutter down his bare abdomen, feather light touches trailing down his ribs before rising to settle on his shoulders. Miguel peppers kisses over your face, moving his own hands so he can press you down in his lap. He pokes at your bottoms, a finger tugging at the waistband. 
“Take this off?” He mimics you, raising his eyebrows a little as you laugh.  
“Don’t wanna get up,” You reply, and he shrugs, grabbing greedy handfuls of your ass. You give him a look and —
Miguel hisses, low in his throat at the feeling of your body grinding down against his and suddenly his dick is much more than just half hard. Sticky pre seeps out of him and he swallows dryly, your heady scent swirling in the air. If he was any lesser man, he would’ve passed out by now. And also probably busted. 
“You’re a minx, pretty girl,” He rasps, clenching his jaw. Fuck, he can practically feel how wet your pussy is, can fucking smell your damn arousal through the air. It’s making him dizzy with need, he can barely think. Your arms loop around his neck leisurely as you lean in to kiss him – something he welcomes readily. 
“Would you have me any other way?” You tilt your head, coy. He almost misses your words with the way he’s focusing on your gorgeous body. 
“No. I wouldn’t,” He whispers, big hands forcing your hips down onto the hard shape of his cock. Making you feel how bad he wants you right now. His tip is pressing against your clit through the fabric and god, he’s so big, tenting through his sweatpants. You swallow back a moan as his hips twitch up, pressing against you in just the right angle. 
Your panties are practically soaked by now, needy pussy pulsing to have him inside of you. But you’re too impatient to get up and discard your undergarments, heat coursing through your veins like molten fire. His huge frame dwarfs yours easily but right now, it’s you who’s on top of him, you who’s making this 6 foot 9 inch man moan and hiss with every teasing dip of your hips over his straining erection. 
His breaths come in quiet growls, and he squeezes his eyes shut as you tease and tease and tease.
“Baby, please,” He nearly whines, obedient hands resting lightly over your waist. Your cat-like grin makes sparks of halfhearted irritation and warmth dance through his nervous system. He knows you’re just as desperate as he is and he kneads your plush thighs as if trying to entice you. 
You’re addicting and infuriating, Miguel thinks to himself. He wants to bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck you until you’re sobbing in pleasure and he can barely breathe through the haze of overstimulation. He wants you to keep him right here and make him beg for just a scrap of your attention. Mostly, he just wants you. 
You finally decide to grant him some relief, messily slotting your hips against his and a ragged hum escapes Miguel’s throat, low and quiet. The shape of his dick is defined through his sweats, pressing and twitching against you through the fabric. You can’t help but moan as he rubs his tented half against you, almost like a dog in heat. You have half a mind to tease him for it, but the way he presses up against you makes your head feel foggy. 
The edges of razor sharp fangs glide over the sensitive flesh of your neck as he peppers kisses and nips to your skin indiscriminately. It’s slow, it’s messy, his hips roll upwards underneath you, searching for that sweet friction. A particularly harsh bite has you hissing lightly and Miguel soothes it over with his tongue. It doesn’t bleed, but you’re sure it’ll leave a mark. 
And he had to leave it in the most obvious place ever? Bastard. You shoot him an unamused look and he just gives you a smug expression. 
“Something wrong, hermosa?” He coos, all cloyingly saccharine, and you roll your eyes. If someone told you that this man was begging for your touch three seconds ago, you wouldn’t have believed them. 
“Don’t act cute now,” You grumble and he laughs, a wonderfully soft sound. His hands drift to the small of your back, putting pressure and lazily grinding against you, keeping your pussy anchored over his dick through layers of fabric. It’s like a haze has settled over you both, something sweet and heavy and sticky all at once. It’s languid and mind numbingly good — it’s different from the way he fucks you. You might even call it domestic. 
Something about the way Miguel stares at you feels almost reverent. He looks so pretty here, mussed up hair and heaving chest. He’s warm and you can feel it in the way his thick thighs tense and the way his hard cut abdomen presses up against you. Sticky sweetness seeps into your limbs like molasses, and you can’t help but kiss him, all teeth and tongue. His low pleased hum vibrates through his chest and vaguely, you think he tastes something like wine and spice. 
He’s sloppy and hungry, quickly deepening the kiss as he leans closer. It’s not until you’re running out of oxygen that you tap his shoulder and he pulls away, a pink tongue darting out to wet his lips. You’re panting, kiss swollen lips shiny with saliva and he’s groaning, rolling his hips upwards. His clothed cock catches on your clit deliciously and he catches on quickly, making sure to aim for that one fucking spot that makes you see stars. 
“Shit — Miguel, feels so fucking good…” you gasp into his mouth and he groans. You sound so sweet when you moan and whine on his lap. He’s head over heels for you, he decides. You could sit on his face for hours, suffocating him between plush thighs, and he’d say thank you. He’s almost tempted to pull you to the bedroom right now just so he can beg you to do just that, but fuck, with the way his dick is throbbing, he might not make it that far. 
“Just like that, baby, c’mon,” He nips at your neck lightly and licks into your mouth greedily, “you want it? Want this fat cock? I’ll give it to you, I’ll give it all, j’st cum, baby, you can do it,” quick hands come up to palm at your breasts, squeezing stiff peaks and god damn, he knows how to use them.
Your back arches, pressing your tits against his bare chest and Miguel dips to litter marks around your collar bone and lower, humming in satisfaction as you thread a hand in his hair. You’re a mess, he’s panting and groaning, hair mussed up, dark crimson eyes squeezed shut. He might just be the prettiest man you’ve ever seen.
The thing that really does it for you is the way he says your name. Breathy and pleading, it makes your head spin, and you press a searing kiss to his lips as the knot that has been slowly building finally snaps. It’s filthy, sinful, and fuck, its everything you want. 
Miguel tenses underneath you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he shudders and twitches. He sounds almost drunk from the way he’s slurring your name, honey sweet and desperate. He cums with a quiet grunt, staining his boxers with it, soaking the light gray of his sweats.
You slump against his chest and he hisses lightly as you brush against his slowly softening cock. A burly arm comes to loop around your waist, pulling you closer while you gently move sweaty strands of hair out of his face.
“Good?” He asks, and you hum in affirmation. He grimaces at the feeling of slick cum dripping down his balls. “We should get clean.”
“My thighs feel sticky,” You mutter, trying to gently extricate yourself from your boyfriend’s hold so you can walk to the restroom. He shoots you a look and sweeps you up into his arms easily, pressing an easy kiss to your neck. Instinctively, you hold onto him, leaning against his bare chest as he carries you to your shared bathroom. 
He glances at you as he pushes open the door with his foot, considering.
“Bath or shower?” Miguel tilts his head, looking remarkably composed for a man who just came in his pants a few minutes ago. 
“Shower,” You answer immediately, and he puts you down, turning to strip off his clothes and hearing you do the same. You turn on the water, setting it to both of your preferred temperatures and slip into the stall, sighing in relief at the warmth. Miguel joins you after a moment, swiping your body wash off from the corner. Technically, it’s his, but you use it so often that he just delegates it as a shared item. 
You say that his is better because it’s fancy. He doesn’t object. After all, he really doesn’t mind you smelling like him.
Squeezing some into his hand, he cleans you up, soapy suds washed away by the spray overhead as you do the same for him. You pay special attention to his pecs and ass and he just sighs like he’s annoyed. He’s not. Honestly, he doesn’t care — you can touch whatever you want. He’s all yours and he relishes that fact whole heartedly. 
Your hands trail down his chest and abdomen. He smothers a smile against your hair, pressing you up against the shower wall and hooking strong hands under your thighs. 
“Want to go another round?” He asks, looking down at you, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. You card a hand through wet curls and he leans into it.
“Yes.”
Needless to say, you don’t come out of the bathroom until much later, littered with marks and sore between the thighs. Miguel follows after you, looking utterly satisfied with himself, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist as you both enter your bedroom. It’ll be a pain to wear a scarf for the next few weeks but with the way Miguel practically drapes himself over you has you not caring. 
A problem for future you. For now, you’ll just snuggle under the covers and exchange sleepy kisses with your boyfriend. 
AN; this was supposed to be 500 words omg
2K notes · View notes
sjyuns · 1 year
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WAY BACK HOME ┆ A SIM JAEYUN ONESHOT
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BREAKING NEWS! the friendly neighbourhood superhero spider-man has been caught trying to swing into a girl’s heart — but why is he failing miserably?! is this the spider-man we all know and love? or has our hero lost his spark?
or in which sim jaeyun asks you, his best friend out, forgetting that he was still in his spider-man suit.
GENRE! best friends to lovers, mutual pining, extremely groundbreaking embarrassing pick up lines, my missed hit at being a comdeian, jaeyun being jaeyun ( ie a hot loser ),
CAUTION! idiots in love, two timing ( but they’re the same person ), kissing, love, mentions of weapons and fighting crime, bad pickup lines, embarrassment for sim jaeyun, both reader and jaeyun are nineteen in this fic
WORDCOUNT! 5100
MIKAELA’S! hey everyone, this is the first ever oneshot i’m posting on my shiny new blog! please feel free to leave feedback through reblogs or asks! hope you enjoy jake embarrassing the soul out of himself🫶 i love sim jaeyun so much ( too much it’s embarrassing tbh ) this is the last of my old drafts, sorry for the spam!
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playlist ⟡ way back home — shaun ⟡ forever only — jaehyun ⟡ pov — ariana grande ⟡ daylight — taylor swift
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i. with great power comes a platter of hot embarrassment
“With great power comes great responsibility,” is what Spider-Man once said in an interview with The Daily Times, the most widely read newspaper company in all of Seoul.
It’s so out of character of Sim Jaeyun that he himself wonders what exactly went through his mind at that given time to blurt out such a philosophical quote — especially when he was having the bad urge to take a piss at that very moment.
But whatever it was: he needs it to return now, because he’s standing in front of you, his best friend, and he thinks that now's the chance; to finally ask you out after saving you.
Unfortunately Sim Jaeyun is out of luck, like he always is with you, because nothing but five utterly embarrassing words come out of his mouth.
“You tingle my spidey senses.”
You choke back a laugh as you stare at the masked superhero, amused at his sudden pick-me-up. “Are you rizzing me up, mister friendly neighbourhood hero?”
It seems like too much thinking has altered the already broken thought process in Sim Jaeyun’s brain, because it is only now that he registers that he’s still in his Spider-Man suit, and you don’t have a single clue that he’s Spider-Man.
“Uh, I mean-” but he’s cut off by the roaring cheer of the gathered public, who have their phones out and recording.
“Don’t back down, Spider-Man,” a citizen calls out, and Jaeyun thinks it’s far too late to back out now, because not only will it crush his ego, you might think Spider-Man isn’t as cool as he seemed to be.
“Would you let me swing into your heart- I mean, could we” he pauses, “could we hang out sometime?”
You smile, and it makes Jaeyun frown slightly under his mask, because he knows that smile — it’s the polite one, the one you use in a slightly uncomfortable situation, as if you didn’t want to embarrass the popular superhero standing in front of you at the moment.
“Sure,” you grin, pearly whites on display, “could I bring my best friend Jaeyun though? He’s a big fan.” It’s him, he thinks, he’s the Jaeyun you’re talking about. And his heart skips a beat at your thoughtful action.
“Okay! Tomorrow, here, five in the evening,” he says in excitement without a second thought. You’ve just agreed to go out on a date with him, and he’s too drunk in love to think about how he’s going to meet you as Spider-Man without telling you his identity.
He shoots a web up and swings after shouting an elated “see you, yn,” in the air. All too caught up in you to realise the three critical mistakes he’d made.
ONE. He never asked for your name as Spider-Man
TWO. There’s no way he could ever go on a date with his suit on in public
THREE. How in the fucking world is he going to a date with you as both Spider-Man and Sim Jaeyun?
Sim Jaeyun spends the whole night twisting and turning in his bed, mind in a flurry as he tries to think of the smartest way to solve these problems.
And it doesn’t help him when his phone pings with a new message from you.
Guess who just bagged us a hang out with Spider-Man tomorrow!
Don’t wear that Spider-Man suit or I swear to god I will not bring you to see him.
He sighs as he presses hard on the power button of his phone, staring blanking at the black screen. Fuck power or responsibility, he thinks, all he wants is his best friend’s heart, is that too much to ask for?
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ii. man up, spidey-boy!
“BREAKING NEWS! Spider-Man spotted trying to swing into a girl’s — who supposedly goes by the name yn, heart. And after failing miserably at the first try, he succeeded on the second. Spidey may be a hero who saves lives, but it seems like he might have to take up what youngster’s call ‘rizz’ classes.”
The wide billboard screen casts a video taken by a bystander as the announcer's voice blared into the main junction of the city.
Jaeyun groans as he hangs his head low, adjusting the baseball cap perched on top of his head to cover his face. Not like anyone knew he was Spider-Man, no, but it was just far too embarrassing for him.
He hears you before he sees you, your voice is illegally sweet as it causes a smile to appear on his face amidst all of the stress. “Jaeyun!” You call, “you’re unusually late,” and Jaeyun groans, blaming it on the lack of sleep he had gotten last night, “Spider-Man isn’t here yet.”
Right, Spider-Man. Jaeyun still hasn’t found a solution to that.
His suit is tucked safely in the bottom of his bag, just in case. But for now, Jaeyun thinks it’s a better decision to disappoint you as Spider-Man instead of as your best friend. Besides, he hasn’t missed a single hang out session with you, and he isn’t ever planning to.
“Do you think he’s actually going to come?” You ask, head tilting in question and eyes soft, and Jaeyun wonders if he actually underestimated how much you liked Spider-Man, misunderstood that seemingly polite smile you gave him yesterday — should he have came as Spider-Man instead?
“Uhm,” he pauses, hesitant to squash your expectations, “how about we go first? I’m sure Spider-Man will swing by, it seems like he likes you a lot.” And even though he was talking about himself, he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy bubbling in him at the thought of another boy liking you.
“Right,” you say, giving him a smile that makes his heart melt, “I guess it’s just us, like it always is.” Your fingers wrap around his, “I like it like this.” You mutter softly, yet in the buzz of the city square, Jaeyun catches the whisper of your voice, a goofy grin plastered on his face.
“Plus, if I ever need, you can be my Spider-Man — whip out that fake suit of yours. You have his physique anyway, and your pick up lines are just as idiotic as his. Maybe even more idiotic.”
Jaeyun lets out a loud laugh, one that’s of melodious dreams, and it causes a few pedestrians to stare but he doesn’t care, not when you’re next to him, asking him to be your very own Spider-Man. And he agrees immediately, all too ready to put on the ‘fake’ red and blue suit just for you.
He’s a little amused that you still believe that he’s a hardcore fan of Spider-Man, because the only time you’ve caught him wearing that very suit was two years ago, when you coincidentally entered his room to see him in a Spider-Man suit without a mask.
And he still remembers your accusations of him being a fanboy, asking him if dressing up as his idol was what he did in his free time. Jaeyun was way too flustered to even explain himself, and letting you know that he was the real Spider-Man never even crossed his mind as he bashfully nodded to your words.
But it wasn’t like you ever laughed at him about it, though you did tease him. You would still buy him different types of Spider-Man merchandise, ranging from Spider-Man socks to a custom Spider-Man mug with the words ‘Spider-Man loves Jaeyun’ in bold red.
With every gift given, came an opportunity to reveal his identity. Yet Sim Jaeyun never seizes it, he refuses to, because he finds it so endearing — the way you have the proudest smile on your face as you give him merchandise of himself that he has never seen before, the way you send him a picture of every single Spider-Man related thing you see on the streets.
“Right,” he nods as he gazes adoringly at you, “forget the real Spider-Man, I’ll swing into your heart.” And the giggle you let out once again makes his knees weak — he thinks the smile plastered on your face is much more genuine than the one he saw yesterday.
And he wants to kiss you so bad, tell you exactly how much he likes you, loves you. This familiar feeling that has settled comfortably at the bottom of his heart and back of his mind for the past four years, has only grown and never dwindled. It was times like this, where he didn’t feel the burden of having to be alert about ongoing crime.
Only with you can he feel like Sim Jaeyun — a lovesick nineteen year old and not Spider-Man, the hero of Seoul.
“Jaeyun, what do you want to do first?” You ask, pulling him through the blaring fun of the amusement park. He hums, following behind your excited figure, letting you choose what you wanted to do. “Oh my god, look it’s a Spider-Man toy.”
You halt in your step and immediately turn towards him, eyes sparkling. “Do you want it Jaeyun? I’ll get it for you. Just so you aren’t too sad that Spider-Man ghosted us today.”
He scoffs, as he examines the booth. It’s a shooting game, and he knows that you suck at shooting. “You sure, love? From what I remember, you aren’t too good at shooting games,” he brings up and you shoot him a sharp glare before pestering him to pay the vendor.
You end up blaming your best friend for jinxing you, “Yun, if you never said that, I could have shot them all down,” you complain, eyes morphing into slits as you pinpoint the blame on him. Jaeyun raises his two hands in innocence, face displaying an expression of shock, “I didn’t even say anything wrong, plus you barely hit one out of five balloons.”
You groan, shushing him in embarrassment, “If you’re such a professional, win it for me then,” you challenge him. Jaeyun shrugs, it’ll be easy — all those years of shooting webs has made him extremely sharp, so he manages to shoot all the five balloons without any effort, snagging the coveted Spider-Man doll.
“You sure you don’t want it, Yun?” you question, “add it to your collection as a fanboy.” He shakes his head, handing you the plush toy, “I won it for you. Plus, I like the ones you gave me more.”
It overwhelms you, the stark sincerity in his voice. And you feel the sudden need to kiss him, not like you’ve never thought of it before (more like you’ve thought about it too much), because Sim Jaeyun with his bright personality and handsome face is far too good to be real.
But you can’t bring yourself to be that direct, so you settle for a kiss on the cheek. A quick movement and a short peck before you let out a loud giggle, walking over to the next booth with a stupid smile plastered on your face, leaving Jaeyun in shock and awe — eyes wide and mouth agape before he bites back a smile.
He thinks it’s too hard to conceal his feelings any longer; that he has to tell you soon, next week, tomorrow, or maybe even now. And he feels the three words, eight letters, at the tip of his tongue.
As always, though, he swallows them back down, throat dry as he stares at you. The fear of rejection far too intense for him to handle.
How ironic, that Sim Jaeyun could fight criminals with equipped daggers that could kill him in one swift motion, yet he could not say three simple words to a girl who has pierced his heart and filled his stomach with butterflies.
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iii. in a sticky predicament
“Now on to our very own Spider-Man’s upcoming love story that seems to be wilting by the looks of it — Spidey, in fact, did not show up to his date with yn, who was seen with another boy at the amusement park. Our very own hero is facing multiple accusations that he may be, like his representative colour, a red flag. However, a minority of fans have brought up a speculation; that the boy we call Spider-Man, might be the very boy accompanying yn yesterday unmasked. That’s all for Spider-Man, here on The Daily News.”
“Don’t you think that’s insane Jaeyun?” you laugh, throwing your head back into the soft pillow on his bed, “they think you’re Spider-Man.”
“Right,” he trails on, arms crossed as he leans on the doorframe, “that’s so impossible.”
His laugh awkward as his fingers find themselves combing through his hair for the nth time. And you turn your head, looking at him with suspicion. Right, that’d be crazy, insane maybe, you think, because Sim Jaeyun was well — him. He’s slightly awkward, likes physics, and hell he’s scared of bugs, so it’ll be mind blowing if he ever was the real Spider-Man.
But impossible, you think, might not be true. And you sit up on the edge of the bed, eyes trained on him. Same physique, similar height, he’s athletic, and he shoots well. Plus, from your ever so short encounter with Spider-Man saving you from getting your wallet stolen, Spider-Man is just as awkward as your best friend.
Could he really be Spider-Man? But he’s a fan of Spider-Man, wouldn’t it be weird if he was such a big fan of himself. Still, you couldn’t rule out the possibility.
“Jump,” you instruct, “hang upside down on the walls.” Jake is shocked, as his heart accelerates in nervousness at the thought of being found out.
“Don’t be weird,” he groans, trying to keep calm, “that’s literally humanly impossible.” His mind racing, finding a way to get out of this sticky situation, because as much as he wants to tell you his identity, the last way he wanted you to find out was through the internet. Also, maybe because you looked slightly angry, with your eyebrows furrowed and hands on your head, and Jaeyun didn’t want you to be mad at him.
You were deep in thought, was that why Spider-Man didn’t show up yesterday — because he is actually Sim Jaeyun, and he couldn’t be there as two different people.
That might be a stretch, but it isn’t an impossible scenario. You tilt your head, quickly grabbing the pillow you were just lying on, throwing it at him, “catch.”
He catches it easily, with one hand even, as his face contorts into an expression of surprise. “Don’t scare me like that, love,” he says. But you’re too flabbergasted at the fast reflexes of your best friend to even comprehend his complaint.
“You could really give Spider-Man a run for his money, you know?” you chuckle, as you tell yourself that no matter how much it might fit, it’s probably just a coincidence, “put on that suit of yours and fight crime.” It was all a coincidence, right?
“What if I’m scared of getting hurt,” he pouts, and you snort. With Sim Jaeyun’s level of cowardice, there’s no way he could ever be out there fighting.
“Then I’ll protect you,” you say, “I’ll be your sidekick, all you have to do is stand there and look pretty.”
He grins, walking over to stand in front of you; hands moving to ruffle your hair. “Okay love, you lead, I’ll follow.”
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iv. tell him to grow a pair
Your newfound popularity brings you more drawbacks than benefits — by that you mean the sudden fury of boys approaching you to ask for your number. It annoys Jaeyun more than it does you, as your best friend flaunts a new irritated look that you’ve rarely seen.
“That’s the sixth fucking boy,” he grumbles, eyes rolling before he glares at the fleeting figure of Lee Heeseung, the boy who just asked you for your number, the boy who Jaeyun lashed out at.
“Be kind, Yun,” you chuckle, amused at your best friend’s sudden grumpiness, “I mean, I’ve never lashed out at any of the girl’s who ask you out.”
“No one has asked me out.” he groans, “are you flaunting right now?”
“Yes I am,” you reply, “don’t worry Jaeyun, you’ll always be my loser.”
He lets out a loud exaggerated sigh as he rolls his eyes, leaning against the locker as he grits his teeth in exasperation.
You wonder why no girl has ever hit Sim Jaeyun up. Granted, he wasn’t the best looking guy back in middle school with his choice of brightly coloured clothes that blinded eyes, but you think that was part of the appeal — how awkwardly adorable he was. Now, with his upgraded fashion style and bubbly personality, it’s a miracle no one has tried their shot at bagging him. Not that you wanted anyone to.
Sim Jaeyun is yours, just as much as you are his.
And he thinks the exact same. Despite what you think, he has had a girl approach him, professing his love only to get turned down by his puppy-like smile and his confession that he liked you.
Though his body exudes jealousy, there's a slight bit of relief at the fact that you turned all six of the boys down, telling them that you had a crush on someone else. He hopes, prays, begs that the person you think about is him. He furiously looks for a sign, because he’s tired of all this, and he needs a sign from you before he can courageously make the first move.
After school, the both of you walk down the buzzing streets with carts of street food lined up along the roadside. Your fingers bunching the fabric of Jaeyun’s shirt as he navigates the both of you through the crowded streets, making a beeline for his favourite churros shop.
“I told you the queue would be long, it’s Friday night,” you whine, mentally counting the number of people in front of you. Fifteen, that’ll take a while. “We should have just ordered in pizza and binge on Netflix shows.”
“Fine, we can eat churros another day,” Jaeyun pouts and you curse yourself for saying that even when you knew he wanted to eat churros.
“It’s fine, we can stay, since we’re already here.” You stop him, pulling him back beside you in the queue, “but you can’t leave to do something else like last time, you have to wait with me.”
The glow on his face coupled with the adorable smile on his lips makes you stare in awe. And you think Sim Jaeyun is so pretty and handsome all at once it’s a crime to look as good as him. His lips, god, they look so kissable and soft, you wish you could kiss them at any given time — now, tomorrow, forever.
But the moment doesn’t last long, as faint screams and shouts travel from a small corner shop down the road. “Thief, there’s a thief on the run.”
You watch as Jaeyun’s eyes widen, body in a sudden scramble, “uhm, I’m gonna go to the toilet for a moment,” he says amidst the whispers of the crowd, “stomach ache, you know.” Running off before you can give him a reply, brushing past people hurriedly into a random narrow street.
You shrug it off again because it isn’t the first time Jaeyun has acted out of character. However, you can’t help but realise it was always when there was crime.
The questions and suspicions floating around your head for the past week resurface as you focus on the narrow street your best friend had disappeared into.
Oh my god.
You blink profusely, pinch yourself, and rub your eyes because this is mind blowing information. You can’t seem to believe an ounce of what your eyes have just seen. Was that Spider-Man who just swung out of the very same alleyway?
Sim Jaeyun is Spider-Man. And your conclusion only seems to solidify as you hear the muffled voice coming out of his masked persona.
“Oops, sorry,” and a careless swing as he tries his best to manoeuvre through the crowd, accidentally knocking over a little girl’s ice cream cone, “I'm sorry, please don’t cry.”
Yup, that’s Jaeyun. His voice now so familiar you hit yourself in the head for not realising sooner. And his utterly helpless tone as he tries to soothe the little girl — you could recognise it from a mile away.
“I’ll get you a new one, I’m sorry,” he shouts as he spins his web and shoots again, lamppost to windows to signboards before effortlessly catching up with the thief; who was now bound to the wall by web.
“Sorry,” he groans for the fourth time in a matter of minutes, “it’s my job — i mean, not that you deserve to get away no, i just-” he rambles and you giggle at his comment. Seems like Sim Jaeyun will never change, even as a superhero or as your best friend.
“I meant to say, justice has been served,” he nods, seemingly proud of his awkward catchphrase that you were sure he stole from the superhero movie you watched with him a few weeks back. “I have to get back now, someone awaits me you know - i mean, no- I’m not supposed to give details of my personal life. I’ll just- stop talking… yeah.”
And you watch again as he swings back down the street. With his identity revealed, you can’t help but look up to Jaeyun even more now — a top student and a superhero? How unfair the world is. How lucky you were to have him as your best friend.
“Hey! Aren’t you yn? Spider-Man, is that your girl?” You shrink, head down as you fix your gaze on the floor immediately, cheeks a rosy red. God, you think, this is a little embarrassing.
You feel his presence before you see his shadow morphing with yours on the floor, “hey yn,” and you look up to see the superhero, who’s panting ever so slightly, stand in front of you in his glory. “Sorry about last week, I was well busy, and I know it isn’t any-”
“It’s fine,” you stop him from blabbering, a toothy grin plastered on your face. And Jaeyun feels proud, maybe him saving someone has put Spider-Man back into your good graces, maybe he has a chance with you as Spider-Man.
“I had fun with my crush at the amusement park. Actually, thank you for the opportunity, I kissed his cheek for the first time and it felt like heaven.”
He pauses, and Jaeyun wants to rip off his mask at the very moment to kiss you. You liked him back, fuck, you actually liked him back.
“Ah,” he says after a while of tense silence, his hands rubbing the nape of his neck, “that’s amazing. So- do you… I mean- so you’re like, in love with him? Wait love might be a little uhm-”
“Yeah, I’m in love with him.”
Time stops as your eyes pierce into his, and he can swear at this moment that you knew exactly who he was. He thinks it’s over, and he can finally ask you to be his — because he’s hellbent on loving you, for the past four years he has been.
“Seems like this crush of yours needs to step up his game, or I might just steal you away,” he remarks lightheartedly, uncaring of the sea of cameras pointing towards the both of you.
“Yeah, it seems like he does. Maybe you should visit him one day, tell him that it’s about time to man up, or I’ll be the one asking for his hand.” You shoot a knowing glance at him, a confident smirk on your face.
Jaeyun chuckles, “right, I’ll be sure to tell him that, wouldn’t want him to lose such a special girl.”
“Thanks Spidey, I wonder what I’d ever do without you,” you laugh, patting his suited shoulder before he once again swings away into the narrow alleyway, only to appear minutes later donned in his usual faded ripped jeans and white shirt, hair tousled and smile wide as he runs back to you.
And he’s before you all again, this time as your best friend and you swoon as his adoring eyes and elated smile. “You okay?” You ask, hand raising to fix his hair.
“I couldn’t be better.”
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v. Batman vs Spider-Man, a battle of the mans
“Spider-Man should now change his name into wing man as he is spotted once again, engaging in conversation with the very same yn from last week. Spider-Man was not only ruthlessly dumped by her, but was also asked to quote on quote visit her crush to ask him to grow a pair. Seems like she is off the market for our poor lonely superhero, who can’t seem to catch anyone except for criminals. That’s all for Spider-Man, here on The Daily News.”
“Seems like you can’t catch a break, huh Yun?” You point out as you switch the television off, “not only defamed into a wing man but also asked to grow a pair.”
And it seems like he really can’t because ever since you confronted him about being Spider-Man, his days have been filled with even more ruthless teasing, and weird questions.
“How do you even piss as Spider-Man?”
“Can I swing from building to building?”
“Can you hang upside down for ten minutes?”
“How do you think you would fare against Batman in a fight?”
But there’s one unasked question still hanging in the air. And Jaeyun really wants to address it, but it seems like you’ve lost your confidence by the way the flesh of your cheeks heats an angry red at any slight hint of him being your crush — or as Jaeyun would like to call himself; your soon to be boyfriend.
“I’ve grown a pair,” he says, shifting towards you, eyes trained on yours, “seems like someone has lost a pair.”
“Have not” you argue, lies — you could barely look at Jaeyun now without a lovesick smile on your face. Neither could you muster up the courage to ask him to be your boyfriend. “And if you ever grew a pair, you would have asked.”
“Ask what?” He teases, face moving closer to yours. He looks too good, godly almost, with his black rimmed glasses perched at the bridge of his nose.
You pout, furrowing your eyebrows as you place a light slap on the middle of his chest. And he lets out a low chuckle, the vibrant sun rays flush through the sheer day curtains of Jaeyun’s room, a natural spotlight glowing on the both of you.
“Fine,” he whispers, and you can feel his breath on your lips, it’s warm and inviting and you feel yourself leaning into him. “Will you be my girlfriend, love?”
You barely nod your head before he attaches his lips on yours. And you think you’re going to be obsessed with Sim Jaeyun — your fingers find their way through his hair and he sighs. It’s like he’s imprinted in your heart and you want to kiss him again and again and again.
Sim Jaeyun with pretty eyes, pretty lips, a pretty face, a pretty being, breaks the kiss only to kiss you again and again as you wish.
“Did I swing into your heart, love?” He smirks as you playfully roll your eyes at his antics. “Are we not going to bring up the time when you fell after showing me your web skills?”
He tackles you down and you giggle, “I can fall from the sky, I can fall from a tree, but the best way to fall is to fall in love with you.” He grins idiotically before racing out the door as you cringe at yet another bad pick up line from him.
“Sim Jaeyun, are you kidding me? I wonder how you even make up quotes like ‘with great power comes great responsibility’ with that mind of yours.”
“What mind? You mean my mind — the place where you always are?”
You groan in fake disgust as you watch your boyfriend (boyfriend!) smile proudly at his idiotic pick up lines. The both of you drinking sunlight as if it’s love — where he’s all yours and you’re all his.
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uncut. confessions i can’t make ( a crumpled confession letter written by a sixteen year old sim jaeyun )
hi dear yn,
i like you. it’s been a while since you took my breath away we first met. this is my first time ever writing a confession so i don’t really know what to say write… i guess it’s like writing physics notes so maybe it wouldn’t be too hard i hope
chapter one part one : what i like about you
i like the way you smile laugh, how your eyes turn into the tiniest of crescents, it makes me proud of the jokes i crack (that physics joke was good was it not). i like the feeling i have around you — it’s warm and fuzzy, natural — talking everyday without any forceful conversation, laughs or attention.
part two : why you should like me
i think you should like me because i like you. i think you should like me because i’m smart! i can help you with physics and maths. i don’t really know what else i can give you but i’ll try my best to make you smile everyday.
will you be my girlfriend? Oh god, this is so weird i actually like you a lot and
(a bunch of scribbling)
forget it. you’ll never like me back.
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dear mister sim jaeyun,
after three hours of fighting for my life, i have finally gotten my hands on the most treasured item of the year, a sixteen year old you’s crumpled confession letter to me. and since you wrote it in a physics notes style like a loser, as your girlfriend i have no choice but to follow you (so that you don’t feel lonely)
one. what i like about you
everything. i like your hair, i like your face. I like the way you say sorry to every single person in the neighbourhood while courageously saving them. i like your pick up lines on some days and how you have the guts to challenge Batman to a fight when i proclaim him as my favourite hero. i like the way you laugh and i like the way you smile. i am especially enchanted by your kicked puppy ways and easily manipulated demeanour where i can always get what i want without question.
two. why you should like me
i’m your girlfriend and you’re my girlfriend. (you are my girlfriend) you should stop staring at me with those eyes, it gives me the ick (i meant that in a ‘whatever you say pretty boy’ kind of way) you should like me because i am the person who likes you the most. (i love you so much)
will i be your girlfriend? obviously i will, i mean who can say no to you.
love you babe,
spider-man’s (your) hot sidekick
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© SJYUNS
2K notes · View notes
gayandfairycore · 5 months
Text
But it’s better if you do
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Summary: Being Jennifer checks human girl friend and being best friends with needy, instead of Jennifer finding needy when she freshly turns she finds you. You struggle to find the right time to confess your love for the demon girl, when People of devils kettle go missing you can’t bring yourself to care when the succubus’s lips are on yours.
Warnings: reader doesn’t really care about anyone but Jennifer, homoerotic gay friendships are my fav, Jennifer killing and eating boys normal succubus things, arson, a complicated relationship with Jennifer where she kisses reader w/o consent, stalking, breaking and entering, probably more but I’m not sure!
A/n: I love Jennifer check so much I’m only like 80% proud of this fic but man Jennifer is so hot & what else could I do aside from using a patd song!
✧༺༻∞
Melody lane, a shitty little jukebox club in the middle of devils kettle usually filled with drunk old men, crusty teenagers, and Jennifer’s flings.
But occasionally they had a half decent band playing. And okay alcohol when Jennifer actually managed to convince the bartender. the only way you’d ever hear any of them was when Jennifer managed to drag yourself and needy along with her to the club to watch as she seduced either a new fling, or an old one.
You never minded Jennifer dragging you to places, you liked the company, I fact youd jump when the girl invited you to one of hers and needys sleepovers, it was usually filled with sinful thoughts, movies you’d rented, and shroud gossip about your drab peers. To you Jennifer and needys were the most interesting people in devils kettle.
But there was something especially, special about Jennifer. from her sensual smile, to the way she’d bite her lip when you were near, the the taste of her lip gloss, and the nights her lips were on yours. You’d deal with the disappointment of going back to friends the next morning as long as you got to feel the girls cold hands on your body.
she was addictive. so addictive, you’d stay in a constant loop of the girls lips on yours as you shared a bed with each other, her touch delicate and light over the skin of your chest. It was the only time her words were ever gentle and not piercing alone with you was the only time she’d let her guard down.
But you loved her in public too, when she was mean and cold. you didn’t mind when she was mean to you, infact you liked her meanness, her spirit, her beauty, her love for fun, her piping hot gossip. You liked Jennifer not just for her banging body but for her soul.
The way her hands would rest on top of yours underneath the table in geography, the way her perfect nails would scratch against your back on your sleepovers.
You loved Jennifer, like you loved breathing.
the night melody lane burned down and the freaks from that band wanted a virgin and some how hypnotised Jennifer to join them in their creepy van needy had to hold you back from chasing after the girl, but from the sound of people’s bones breaking and the smell of their skin burning off when you three were briefly trapped in the club it left you in the wrong headspace. It left you unable to think straight.
the only thing repeating in your head over and over, “where’s jen? Why did I let her go with them? I should have done more.” Over and over again
But from the burning bodies, needys quiet sobs, and watching as your best friend get in a van with freaks all you wanted to do was go home, sit on your bed, and cry. Your ride home in Jennifer’s sea-bring left you itchy and uncomfortable. it felt wrong to sit in Jennifer’s car without her. But still you sat there with the aircon blasting because you couldn’t handle the heat You still felt the residual burn from the fire.
It felt wrong to be safe in a car with needy When Jennifer was probably suffering in the hands of emo guys from a shitty band out of state that decided to lay their seedy sights on devils kettle and take your best friend from you. It felt like one big cruel joke.
“Are you gonna be okay without me?” Needy asked resting her hands on the steering wheel pushing her glasses up against her face. Snapping you out of your thoughts
“Yeah yeah… I’ll be okay will you?” You asked your arms tightly wrapped around yourself the chill of the night air against your uncovered arms was welcomed.
The nerdy girl observed your face, not quite believing you’d be okay by the far off look in your eyes she wasn’t even sure she knew where you were. She was wrong. you knew exactly where you were but your head was out of it. Part of you still left with Jennifer in the van Still fighting needys grip still being held back in needys hold as you watched the girl you love be carted away with strange men.
“Yeah I’ve got chip.” Needy smiled awkwardly your voices quiet in the silence the small car light basking you two in warm orange. Watching eachother in awkward in silence, you were just grateful for your lives. And you’d talk about the effects of this eventually, but not tonight.
“Drive safe needy.” You smiled hand squeezing her shoulder tightly before unbuckling and getting out of the car. The walk to your door had been quick the buzzing silence and the illumination from the street lights left an eerie feeling to chill your bones. Or maybe it was the chill of the night air cooling your burning skin.
slotting your key into the hole and sliding the door open you’re met with your home drenched in darkness. The usual warmth and safety of your house felt unnerving.
The warm yellow lights from your ceiling and the sounds of the tv that sounded like childhood was gone only filled with aching silence. It was like even your home reflected your mood.
The only light was what came from your porch and needys headlights as she left down your street.
you wandered to the kitchen in the dead of night, the familiar creak of the floorboards and the buzz of your fridge calmed your racing thoughts, the only light source from the beeping green timer on the oven that stayed on no matter what you did. This was good.
This meant you were safe. You were home.
As you Pulled out a glass cup and filling it up with sink water, resting against the counter you downed your glass quickly the smooth liquid cooled the dryness in the back of your throat, the smoke from the fire coated your throat and making swallowing difficult.
You felt so sick, climbing the stairs to your bedroom and collapsing on your bed you flick your dated lamp on the warm light illuminating your room you finally let the tension from your body the sound of a creak made you crack your eyes open straining your ears to hear anything else after a few minutes of silence
it was probably nothing climbing under the plush comfy blankets of your bed you felt like a little kid again. safe under the blankets tucked in where nothing could touch you.
Despite your blanket force field you didn’t dare turn off the lights. You keep them on and let them light the room.
You were always terrified of the dark. The only darkness you liked was the back of your eyelids
So you shut your eyes tightly and tried to ignore the horrible stench of smoke littering your clothes and staining your sheets. It would be your mother’s problem in the morning.
✧༺༻∞
When you cracked your eyes open again you were met with the sight of your light turned off and your room shrouded in darkness, Odd.
The world outside your window was also silent no crickets, no cars, just nothing.
Sitting up on your bed your blanket clutched to your chest you strained your eyes to look through the darkness, to adjust to the dimly lit room as you blindly reached your hand for the lamp switch turning it on despite the click you’re only met with darkness.
So you tried again,
Click
Still darkness?
“Fuck sake” you muttered the age of the lamp clearly took its toll and of course it chose today of all days to die.
Pulling the cord to you you’re met with a jagged edge, not the plug pulled out from the Power Point under your bed. But a cord that’s been cut the edges fraying dangerously.
Panic swirls in your chest any semblance of tiredness in you disipates as you observe your room, straining your eyes demanding them to focus. Your heart racing you can’t help but imagine a horrid monster under your bed that’s going to grab your ankle the moment you hop down.
Letting out a quiet whimper at the thought you push yourself against the headboard you’re met with two options: brave getting off the bed, and making a run for the light switch Or…Jumping out the window from the second floor, and splat on the veranda. no.
You’ve got one option,
You’d have to brave the darkness.
Taking a shaky breath you push yourself from the safety of your bed you become alarmingly aware of every step, every sound, every creak. You can hear your breaths in the silent room but something in the back of your mind swears you heard the breathing of something that wasn’t you.
you wonder if you’re being pranked, “ok needy, chip. Not funny!” You call shakily into the darkness.
but when a hand grips your foot and tugs you hard to the floor, you slam painfully against the wood Groaning at the impact it only takes you a minute before your mind is clear again.
And you realise there’s some monster under the bed that tugged you to the floor. And their hands still holding your foot. you scream and tug your leg from their hold with force but still your eyes don’t adjust to the darkness and your scrambling to get back up but the monster doesn’t let you tugging you again to the floor. their hand grips your upper calf leaving a wet, sticky hand print.
What the fuck.
You feel their body crawl over you their cold hand trails your body with force but
Before you can scream again hand is covering your mouth tears well in your eyes at the feeling all the worst scenarios come to mind as you lay there frozen in fear, tears well in your eyes spilling down your cheeks.
“P-please” you whimper in its hold and the monster laughs. It laughs. Or what you think is a laugh it sounds like a horrible gurgle but it must be amused by the way the pressure holding you down lets up only slightly.
Just as quick as the laugh came it’s gone replaced with silence and a monster straddling your hips it feels human.
And in away that makes it worse. When the monsters hands trail your body from your hips to your chest where they settle over the little silver bff locket Jennifer gave you, it brings its wet slimy lips to your cheeks and its tongue slips from its mouth and you come to realise it’s licking your tears from your cheeks. It’s hold lightens immensely as it places a light kiss over your lips and you cry harder unable to see what this thing is, before its pulling back and it’s stopped straddling your waist instead it sits with its hands on the floor and its knees to it’s shoulders.
In the dim moonlight you catch a glimpse of black hair, and a sickly smile
“Are you afraid of me?” It asks with a voice like Jennifer’s and you swallow the bile in your throat
“Yes.” You hoarsely whimper, you’re left with a horrible realisation the lips that just kissed you feel the same as when Jennifer does. Before you can confront this thing masquerading as Jennifer it replies.
“good” just when you think you’re safe the creature skitters back to toward you, you finally see what this creature is, the light a passing car that shines into your window gives you enough time to see the creature and you’re right.
it’s Jennifer, just Jennifer she doesn’t look like some permanently deformed monster she still looks beautiful despite Her face covered in mascara streaks and an inky black substance that littered her pale skin and what looks to be blood on her shirt jennifer smiles and she crawls towards you her hands trailing your chest to her necklace. And she leans near you her lips hovering over the shell of your ear and she places a kiss And it doesn’t feel like it did when you and Jennifer sleepover, or the way she leans towards you to whisper something in your ear at school this is intimate.
But this leaves you questioning If she was Jen why did she go so far to tug you to the floor? Why Did she hold you down? Why did cut your lamp? You had so many questions and by the way the girl observed you it unnerved you, it made it abundantly clear you weren’t getting any answers tonight but still you couldn’t help yourself.
“Jennifer?”you say through tears finally sitting up “Jen…what happened?” You ask tearfully she’s crouching on the balls of her feet her her arms holding her ankles and it’s impulsive but you can’t stop yourself you reach out to touch her cold cheek with a shaky hand.
“Why were you under my bed? What are you covered in?”Your hands still hold the girls face before venturing to her shoulders and you pull her to stand up with you and to your surprise she does it. she watches you with a familiar glint in her eyes and you can see she wasn’t some bogey man. Just Jennifer. covered in what you assume is blood, and an odd black substance, but she was still Jennifer.
“What did they do to you?” You whisper before you can stop yourself, tell yourself that is was just shock. Like shock did this kind of thing to people. You couldn’t trick yourself with lies something happened.
It would do no good to question the girl about it just yet, so you Lead her to your kitchen you filled up a glass of water for the girl and watched as she downed the entire thing before going through your fridge, tugging through all of your food, finding nothing of value.
She turned back to you and she watched you hungrily like she wanted to consume your soul like you were prey and she was predator, like a lion and an antelope on a nature documentary. It made your skin prickle.
“Jennifer? What’s going on?” You pleaded your eyes watching her every move, Jennifer stalks up to you with speed that makes you back track into the counter, and her body entraps you against the counter and her lips ghost yours before she pulls away and you fight the urge to chase her lips you watch as she dashes out the back door, the slam of a screen is the only thing that even told you you were not crazy That and the black goop drying to your body.
✧༺༻∞
The next morning you arrive late to school having missed first period, staying awake into the long hours of the morning too afraid to sleep. from the fire, to your odd encounter with Jennifer it left you shaking, sitting for hours in an extra hot shower trying to pull yourself together although the heat seemed to make your skin prickle and the fire in melody lane burn brighter in your mind. You needing to feel clean, you needed to shower off the grime, and the incident with Jennifer.
Maybe it was The mild case of smoke inhalation in your lungs that made you hallucinate last night but the black goo on your body made you question that theory.
when you finally arrived to your first class of the day you sat beside needy and the girl looked as traumatised as you felt and you don’t have to ask to know she’s had a night similar to yours.
“Hey” you greet and the girl greets a quiet “hi y/n” back but you don’t pay much mind not when you’re teacher begins to talk about the fire and the people who died who went to school with you.
At the mere mention of melody lane needy and yourself share a look with eachother a sense of guilt and dread that you three survived. It wasn’t dread over the fact you survived, you all were happy to be alive but you felt somewhat responsible for the fire despite not even setting it.
Why did three girls who are the most unlikely group of friends survive? Why not everyone else? Were they not equally important? What if one of them were going to cure cancer. Why did you live you weren’t going to cure cancer.
When the door to the classroom swing open and Jennifer walks in looking as perfect as ever, you can’t help but think the girl looks absolutely stunning (like always) your cheeks prickling with the feeling of her hand caressing them last night and you fight the urge to chase the imaginary feeling. Making sure you don’t raise your hand to your cheek over the feeling.
Instead you shake your shoulders like it’ll put your back in the present. It works. But you can’t shake the feeling of your hairs that stand up on the back of your neck as Jen pulls up a seat beside you and her warmth heats your side and her addictive perfume wafts around you, and you can tell she’s watching you with the same look as she always does. A sensual look thats different than the looks she gives her flings, it’s a look that makes you feel like you can’t breathe.
She slathers lip gloss over her plush pink lips as needy attempts to talk sense into Jennifer, you didn’t even realise she was talking. Only catching the final bit of her conversation
“Anyone we know?” You hear Jennifer ask like she doesn’t really care, but there’s a twinge of annoyance in her voice.
“We know everyone…” needy says her eyes watching Jennifer like she’s foreign. And you watch the desk like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.
You don’t pay much attention when Jennifer talks about how amazing she feels and how she doesn’t care about the fire. It shocks you truthfully because told but you don’t have the energy to pay attention to anything but the guilt when Craig’s friend, Jonas, starts crying in the middle of class.
You look down at your lap playing with your fingers as Jennifer talks to both yourself and needy you catch sight of needys hands. her nail beds caked with the same inky black substance that assaulted your body and for the first time since Jennifer walked in you look her in her eyes with a sort of horrified intrigue, it wasnt a dream that you conjured up in your fucked up mind. when your eyes flicker to needy something passes between you both. A shared Understanding.
✧༺༻∞
You spent the first day back at school in a weird headspace like your drifting through the hall’s hollow. Like your energy’s stagnant, like a ghost. It’s like you died in that fire.
It’s like you’re not actually here anymore you walk the halls seeing but not observing. Clutching your book to your chest as you walked the halls with needy the sounds of sobbing filled the halls, friends embracing friends it made the scene even more intense.
You were counting every minute down until the end of the day until you could go home watch some tv and stare into space, you stood beside needy looking through your locker as needy told chip about what she witnessed with Jennifer. You couldn’t help but pay attention to her story despite your hands searching for your school book.
“It was like evil…” needy shook her head unable to come up with words to describe it, chip watched the girl with something akin to awkward concern? Although chip was always awkward.
“I think you need to see the school shrink. I love you needy but that’s a little…crazy?” Chip shrugged defiantly before placing a kiss to needys cheek and walking to class.
“Well, I believe you needy. Something happened to me too last night she cut the cord to my lamp and she was under my bed…she pulled me to the floor- Somethings wrong.” Your voice shakes as you lowered it to a whisper confiding in needy with a nod of the blond girls head
“We need more information” needy spoke pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose
✧༺༻∞
When needy called you that night that Jonas had apparently been murdered and eaten it felt like time stilled, What curse was plaguing devils kettle stealing away its people it was odd. It was like melody lane was the one thing that caused a chain of events.
It was no time before news broke again there was another murder.
then another,
then finally Colin gray died after Jennifer agreed to go out with him.
Each murder had the same mo, a cannibal killing. murdering only boys. it was poetic As it was confusing, now you didn’t particularly care for any of these boys why would you? Who needed boys when you had Jennifer and needy? but you would admit to be eaten alive, left in a half finished houses, nothing but carnage with their pants down, rosary clutched in their bloody hands. It was pretty disgusting.
You empathised for these guys but truthfully you didn’t care, not one bit. The only people you cared for was needy and Jennifer and Jennifer had been glowing recently despite the murders, the girl waltzed around not a care in the world, she was living her best life. until she wasn’t.
Then there’d be another murder.
and then Jennifer would look beautiful again (not like she ever stopped but she’d look inhumanly beautiful.) And then shortly after she’d find another boy to toy with at school and in her fling with that boy she’d spend her nights in your bed, her soft fingers playing with your hair as you rested on her knees listening to the latest fall out boy cd And her strawberry lipgloss would leave a sheen on your lips that you’d be tasting for hours after.
And a scent on your tshirts that had you sniffing them for weeks, Then she’d disappear from your hold again. for weeks, she’d leave the sheets cold and her absence ever growing.
And you lay in your bed re-listening to fall out boy, and smelling her perfume on your tshirt to quench the Jennifer shaped hole in your life.
And she’d stop glowing, and she’d look tired, at school hair lifeless compared to its previous glowy form only a week ago.
And it began to make you wonder if maybe it was something more than just pms. It solidified your theory that something darker happened to Jennifer the day melody lane burned to the ground.
Maybe it changed Jennifer so much it made Jennifer kill these boys, you didn’t forget that night at your house where she looked inhuman. where she tugged you to the floor and her lips pressed against yours with force. like she’d have you right then and there like you’d be her last meal.
You had to confront her, Something was wrong with Jennifer check.
✧༺༻∞
It was a normal school day, nothing particularly special happened the morning your house empty by the time you woke up, the heater of your car blowing the same warm air against your cheeks as it always did, then you’d be at school the lively chatter of your fellow students excitement over the upcoming school dance was the only thing buzzing through the hallways
The various murders had become old news, by the time Colin grey died it was no longer of interest to be focused on the maneater “tormenting” devils kettle.
Just as quickly as the chatter came it left, and in its wake left nothing but a trail of murders behind and the horribly popular song released by low shoulder that seemingly took everyone in devils kettle by storm.
You couldn’t give a shit about the murders, these guys never cared about anyone but themselves, plus who needed boys they were useless anyway.
You’re infatuation with Jennifer grew but By this point in time you began to decipher by the help of needy, that Jennifer was a succubus. The blonde had been horrified to learn her friend had been killing these boys. That Jennifer virtually died the night the band shut the van door. Leaving Jennifer trapped with them.
The realisation that you indirectly killed the girl made you want to throw up, you’d never dream of harming the girl so learning you kinda sealed her fate left you wallowing.
The school library was chilly its plastic blue chairs and sad grey carpet left you rolling your eyes. The plain white desks and rows and rows of books left you and needy hidden from prying eyes
Shutting the occult book needy and your self discovered in the library both your hands shook with the realisation your friend was infact a demon, both needy and yourself shared a mildly horrified look and in no time the both of you departed the library the blonde to chip. And you to Jennifer.
✧༺༻∞
Rushing through the halls of devils kettle highschool you didn’t care to observe the faces of your peers opting to instead hurry through the halls to the change rooms Jennifer would have been only now finishing getting changed back from her flag girl practice and she’d always stay later for a long shower, so the room would be pretty much deserted. Perfect.
Flinging open the door to the change rooms you’re met with Jennifer tying her shoes on a small wooden bench the black haired girl lifts her head as you enter the room her usual bored expression plastered on her face her lips perfectly glossy and her eyes watched you with a sense of unnerving pleasure.
Like she enjoyed reading you to see when you’d figure her out.
“I know what you are” you tried to hide the shake in your voice when you spoke closing the change room door and stepping towards her. cringing inwardly at how blunt you seemed you refused to let the facade of fearlessness die so easily so you watched as Jennifer’s perfect lips tipped upward as the revelation
“Do you?” She dragged tucking hair behind her ear and standing up to stalk towards you bumped into the door as you stepped back you stopped the shuddering breath from leaving you when you felt her body creep in front of you her wicked eyes watched you.
“You’re a succubus. You’re the one killing the boys.”
“Boys are just placeholders, they come and they go.” The girl sneered her glossed lips bright as she watched you.
Steeling yourself beneath her gaze you took a breath filling your lungs with humid changeroom air;
“do you deny it?”
Your voice was strong as you stood your eyes boring into eachother you knew your icy tongue wouldnt do the girl any real harm, she’d had her fill she was immortal. Regenerative.
When you were met with silence Jennifer’s cold gaze calculating whether she should confess or kill you now. But the brave look in your eyes and the familiar feeling of your lips on hers she’d grown far too fond of you.
“Do. you. deny. it.” There was no doubt in you, now you were sure, Jennifer was a succubus you just needed her to confess to ensure you were not insane. Staring the girl in the eyes you hardened your gaze and you waited on baited breath for which of you would crack first.
This time,
it was Jennifer.
breaking eye contact she turned her gaze to the ground sighing. “Yes I’m a succubus god.” The girl groaned bored
“how did it happen?” You felt the flood gates open it had been involuntary for your concern to slip out through your cold facade
“The band freaks like totally sacrificed me, when I got into their creepy van it was like the fog on my mind cleared and I realised the trouble I was in, they took me to the falls and I tried to run but they caught me and…” the girl dragged the last bit out before plopping herself down on the bench sitting crisscrossed you sat next to the girl you felt tears well in your eyes.
Jennifer was murdered by the band freaks, and you didn’t try harder to stop her from entering that van, She died because of you.
You felt a lump rise in your throat, “they sacrificed you” you nodded and it felt like you were going to implode looking at your best friend and imagining her bloodied corpse all alone at the falls.
“Mhm, When they caught me they gagged me, and then sacrificed me to Satan- how fucking lame is that!” Jennifer rolled her eyes yet there was a hint of pain shining in her eyes maybe Jen wasn’t completely gone.
“And well after everything happened I managed to find my way to you… I was so hungry but I couldn’t bring myself to kill you, I like you too much.” Despite her bored tone her fingers fiddled in her lap she was nervous to confess this.
“Jennifer” your eyes shone as you watched the girl this was the closest you’d get to Jennifer telling you she loved you, atleast right now. But you understood what the raven haired girl was telling you, and it was like everything she’s done up to this point didn’t matter to you.
“Jen. I don’t care that you have to kill and eat boys, i don’t care that you’re like a demon now? I don’t care about any of it.” You shook your hands as you spoke with volition any confliction you held washed away.
“Jennifer I have loved you since we were kids. you were always my girl. Fuck those guys! The boys you’ve eaten, the band freaks, every pathetic morsel in devils kettle! fuck all of them! I want you, Demon and all.” You exclaimed your warm hands enclosing her cold ones your eyes booring into hers, the shiny sheen of lipgloss on her pink lips made you want to kiss her
It had been months since the fire, months since the girl had caressed your body like she was starving. Like your soft skin bled life itself into her undead heart.
You couldn’t wait any longer, you only had now.
“Can I kiss you?” Your hands hovered over the girls cool cheeks as you asked in a whisper, Jennifer didn’t respond instead the girl shot forward catching your lips into a kiss her lipgloss sticking to your lips as Jennifer had her way with you the girl certainly was a great kisser finally snapping out of your stupor, you kissed her back feverishly.
Both lips fitting together like pieces to a puzzle you hope to never pull back from her lips again. You’d put all of your fears behind you even if it was just for now.
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moonlight-prose · 4 days
Note
You asked for old man! Logan thots. I’m gonna give you old man! Logan thots. Also, hi hehehe 🤭
SO, my favorite thing about him other than the fact that he’s fucking old as dirt, is that even if he’s very rough along the edges, he’s also the tiniest bit pathetic. Sure, he’s giving, he can be soft when he wants to be especially if he’s too tired to care, but he probably just likes sitting you on top of his face and licking and sucking away at your pussy after a long day at work. Or he likes to have you on his lap so he can touch you through your underwear, maybe even grind and hump you through your clothes as he kisses you.
To me, old man! Logan is the perfect mix of pussy drunk and just enjoying pussy as it comes. No rush, no fuss, he’s just here for the vibes lmao.
note: the sound i made when reading this is beyond feral. please excuse my mind going haywire beneath the cut. i have no excuses. i just really love this old man.
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Old man Logan is done with having to pretend he's incapable of feeling pain. After near a century of getting bruised and sliced open and treated like an animal, he deserves some time to just be. And with that comes the need for intimacy. He never got the luxury of it before - never wanted it.
So he's absolutely a little pathetic about getting his mouth on you; entirely at ease to suck at your clit languidly as if you're not shaking above him from too many orgasm too fucking fast. He's fucking knackered. He's pretty sure if he tried to fuck you into the mattress, his skeleton would give up.
You're clutching the headboard with tears in your eyes. Thighs strained with how many times he had you ride his mouth. You're pretty sure if you look down you'd see nothing but glazed hazel eyes and a furrowed brow.
His mind shut off an hour ago; his body taking over to do the rest. And you've become the means to an end in order for him to find some sanity to cling to. He's gone dumb with it. The taste of your pussy the only thing he really needs after a long day.
Other times he'd drag you on his thigh, mouth open and panting into yours with high choked sounds he'd never admit to making. He'd kiss you stupid. Spit and teeth and just a bit of your slick from where his fingers were knuckle deep in your mouth.
Tonight though he's got you seated right where you wants you. His cock is a leaking mess on his stomach, but he can't fucking care.
Especially when you brokenly sob above him, another wave of slick pouring into his mouth. He grunts, fingers digging into your thighs, and suffocates himself.
Far too lazy and slow for you to even notice. At least until he forces another one out of you; his mind a blank slate of white noise as you struggle to breathe.
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strvberrydoll · 1 month
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Rosemary
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Summary: After finding out Arthur’s secret you soothe your aching heart with a nice girls night out drinking in Rhodes. Unfortunately for you your problems seem to follow you everywhere. part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4
AO3 link (a better rewritten version of this fic on ao3)
Pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!reader
Content: angst, hurt/no comfort, nothing a girls night out cannot cure ;) grammar errors for sure :(
a/n: I know you guys all wanted part 2 to be their happily ever after but,, I crave some more angst so yeah it gets messyy !! But nonetheless our girl gets some fun with the girls and some more information about Arthur and Mary’s hush hush meetings. Let me know your thoughts about it and if you sweets want part 3 !! P.S. I recommend you listen to “Rosemary” by Sierra Ferrell while reading. It’s so so good, it also kinda inspired this little fanfic here <33 (gif from pinterest)
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“G’mornin’ sweet girl” Arthur groggily whispered against your neck giving you a light kiss, the movement causing the thick hair of his beard to tickle the space between your neck and your shoulder, before rolling out of bed with a tired groan, the mattress shifting under his movements unlike your unmoving form.
After your late night discovery of not one, not two but a whole drawer full of your boyfriend’s ex-fiancé letters it was safe to say that sleep didn’t come easy for you. As much as you wanted for all of this to be a dream, to close your eyes, wake up and sigh of relief laughing about the ‘bizarre dream’ you had with your Arthur while cuddling under the soft protection of the thick bed sheets, reality decided to slap you right in the face instead, leaving you awake all night trying to hold onto all the broken pieces of your heart.
During your sleepless night you wandered to yourself your next move. Should you just throw everything into his face revealing to him that you knew that the ‘sorry fellow’ of the letter was, in reality, his ex fiancé and yell at him as soon as he wakes up or wait and find out more before confronting him ? Considering the fact that you couldn’t properly read, you just had Mary’s name on various envelopes as evidence. Maybe they’re catching up on each other’s life. Just harmless conversations.
Although your heart screamed at you to just confront him first thing in the morning you knew that with what little evidence you had you would just cause a scene. You needed to go deeper into this story. As much as I’d hurt you needed to know for sure if you wasted three years of your life going after a man whose heart had already been claimed a long time ago.
You brushed off Arthur’s affection muttering a quick tired ‘morning’ before stretching your limbs out and leaving the tent, ignoring the man behind you still sitting on the bed looking at you with a puzzled expression at the lack of your usual loving greeting. Even though you two had the biggest tent in camp, aside for Dutch, it felt claustrophobic being in there with him. You needed space to think, to breathe, to not hurt.
The fresh breeze of October grounding you from your spiraling thoughts as you walked towards the pot of coffee on the fire near Pearson’s tent.
“Well look who’s here in all her glory” a voice, which you recognized as Karen’s by the thick accent, basically yelled at you over the nearby round table.
“You look like you fought a damn herd of buffalos Miss. What the hell are you an’ that old man doing in the night” she cackled at the last sentence gesturing you to join her at the table. Seated on her left Tilly shook her head sending you a sympathetic look.
“Are you already drunk ? Why are you so loud for, it’s seven in the morning” you grumbled in your mug of coffee as you took a sip, instantly cringing at the burnt taste that filled your mouth before sitting down with them.
“I’m happy to inform you that I haven’t had a sip since yesterday at lunch” she smiled smugly lifting her chin up at her achievement.
“That’s ‘cause we haven’t seen Miss Grimshaw yet. Bet you by the end of the day you’d kill for a little bit of booze after that woman.” Tilly said fixing the buttons on her yellow blouse, her words reminding you of the long day ahead of you, making you mentally shiver. It wasn’t exactly that you dreaded the woman, after all, you all knew she cared about you in her own twisted way but her attitude didn’t help with making the camp’s chores more tolerable. It seemed like the warmer weather of Lemoyne was putting everyone on edge.
After a few minutes of Karen and Tilly arguing on what was the worst chore to do around camp Abigail and Mary Beth’s dainty figure joined your small group, Mary Beth’s eyes briefly locking on yours before greeting the other girls. You couldn’t quite understand the meaning behind that look but something told you that at some level she knew something about the letters. That possibility made you nauseous to even think of because it would mean that Mary Beth, the girl who always put a smile on your face, the one who always had your back ended up covering for your cheating partner. You needed to know the truth and you needed it now. But before you could even mutter a word to her Karen called your group to attention.
“Gals, I don’t know about y’all but if I stay just one more moment in this godforsaken camp I’m gonna lose my mind.” her statement gaining a few nods and grunts among your group. With the unnecessary gunfight in Valentine leading you all to move further away from the West and this absurd play at sheriffs in town, tension was undeniably high around camp. “I heard from a handsome fella I met in town that there’s going to be some famous lady from Saint Denis singing at the saloon this evening. Heard also there’s going to be some rich folks from Saint Denis with her. Are y’all thinking the same thing I’m thinking ?”
there was a moment of silence as Karen looked at everyone with gleaming eyes.
“Hells know I need a break from this. I’m in” Tilly was the first who broke the silence followed by Mary Beth, the two girls earning a big smile from Karen.
“I don’t know, I have Jack and,” Abigail never had a chance to finish the sentence as Karen immediately interrupted her, telling her to leave Jack with Hosea for a few hours at not make a fuss. It’s not like you were going to be there all night, plus god’s knows how that woman needed some well deserved time for herself once in a while.
You couldn’t lie, the idea of going out after weeks of being in the same spot with the same routine every day excited you quite a bit and if on top of that you add some good ol’ pickpocketing then consider yourself sold. You were going out this evening no matter what.
“Are y’all lazy do-nothin’ girls done chit chatting !? There’s so much work to do today and you’re all sittin’ there doing nothin’. This generation is unbelievable. Get your asses off to work. Now.” The unmistakable trill of Miss Grimshaw's voice shook you from your comfortable seats putting you all to work for the day. As you got up from your seat you tried your best to ignore Arthur’s piercing gaze on you.
––––– ✧ ✦ ✧ –––––
The sun was slowly setting over flat iron lake, the sky tinted with a mixture of oranges and pinks. You passed your day washing the camp's dirty laundry, scrubbing dry blood and dirt from the old fabrics of each camp’s member clothes. Managing more or so to avoid Arthur throughout launch, the task not easy as he sat down with you and wouldn’t stop talking to you or asking you questions. You tried your best to not straight up ignore him, answering with monosyllabic answers to his questions. Eventually, he understood you weren’t having it, his hands leaving their place on top of the one you had flat on the table. An annoyed expression evident on his face. Why all of a sudden were you ignoring him ? His mind working miles an hour to find out what he did wrong but failing at the task. You seemed fine last night so what the hell happened to make his darling so distant from him.
When you were getting up from the table to put your dirty dish in the washing bin he tried to stop you, his calloused hand delicately taking your wrist. His confused face met with your tired one. He studied your face almost as if the secret to your behavior was hidden through your mesmerizing features. He tried to say something but the words wouldn’t come up, leaving both of you staring into each other eyes, his aqua ones filled with turmoil, before Uncle's voice burst your bubble calling Arthur for work.
After that, you only saw him half an hour later mounting on his horse before riding off.
You definitely needed this night with the girls.
Putting on your last finishing touches to your lipstick you met with Tilly and Abigail near the horse-drawn carriage that Lenny swiftly stole from a nearby town.
“Hello ladies,” you faked a bow lifting your skirt up by the sides the action causing the other two girls to laugh “ready for this eventful evening ?”
“Well of course I’m ready” Tilly replied mimicking your fake posh accent before getting on the carriage helped by Lenny who was your driver for the night since he also had some business to attend to. You waited for Karen and Mary Beth before going off to town, the drive to Rhodes filled with light chit-chat and silly songs, your mind and heart already feeling at ease.
As you all thanked Lenny for the drive you looked around noticing the numerous people around you, the town buzzing with life but most importantly buzzing with opportunities to steal. Before entering the saloon you strolled through the town, Abigail and Mary Beth’s skilled hands already pickpocketing around while you, Karen and Tilly distracted the poor fellas.
Twenty dollars in your pocket and half an hour later you entered the saloon, gladly finding an empty table to sit near the stage that was occupied by a tall blonde woman in a fancy dress who you deduced was the famous singer from Saint Denis.
With drinks on the table and the sweet melody of the guitar, a light conversation about your successful operation sparked amongst your group until a man approached your table, the heavy scent of alcohol evident on him as he tried to drunkenly flirt with Tilly, ending up insulting her rather than woo her earning a slap in the face from the girl, attracting some attention to your table. Luckily the slimy man was too drunk to react and decided to wander off as you all giggled at the situation.
Round after round you all let loose getting up to dance to the merry melody of the music. Tilly standing near the table swaying in her red dress, with Karen by her side singing her heart out, already too drunk for her own good, while Abigail chatted with one of the men from Saint Denis. You shot her a wink as soon as you noticed the wealthy man making her face light up with mirth.
What an absolute fool you are John Marston.
The only two sitting down were you and Mary Beth, whose eyes never left you since sitting down. Her presence a reminder of your cracked heart. It was supposed to be a fun night at the saloon away from your problems, but your curiosity and need to be wrong about Mary and Arthur gnawed inside of you.
“Mary Beth,” you cautiously greeted her, scooting your chair closer to hers so the other girls wouldn’t hear the two of you from their nearby positions. You didn’t want any more drama to spread around tonight.
“Hi,” there was a long uncomfortable pause before she looked up to you again and started blurting everything out. “I’m sorry, I really do. I should have told you he was receiving letters from her again I just didn’t know how to tell you. When I found the first letter two weeks ago he told me he was gonna tell you. But then I saw how you reacted yesterday seeing her letter and I knew he didn’t” She took your hands in hers before continuing, her words coming out fast, the alcohol in her system making her accent heavier “Oh I’m such a fool, please forgive me, I just didn’t want to come between your relationship”.
You were taken aback by her sudden confession, you thought it would be a tad more complicated to let her open up to you about it. Hearing her point of view definitely helped you clear your mind a bit, she had a fair point. It wasn’t her fault Arthur decided to hide something like this. Your anger towards that man growing more and more. Nonetheless, you couldn’t help but notice one thing.
“You said the first letter arrived two weeks ago ?” you asked her. His drawer was full of letters, it was impossible to send that many letters in just two weeks.
“Yes, then I gave it to Arthur, I usually pick up the mail but Arthur has been helping me lately, why?” you started to fidget with the bracelet Arthur gifted for your first anniversary, a small gesture you did when thinking or anxious. The dots in your mind slowly connecting.
––––– ✧ ✦ ✧ –––––
You were about to go back to camp, everyone was on the carriage. Lenny, who had come back from his business with some intel, was back in his driver seat ready to go when you noticed you forgot your gloves at the saloon. Quickly apologizing you clumsily hopped down the carriage, your tipsy state making your movements far from gracious, giggling to yourself you walked back to the saloon to retrieve your gloves. Thankfully they were still on the table untouched.
As you walked back to the carriage enjoying the chilly weather of October from the corner of your eyes you noticed a familiar figure standing outside a building. Maybe it was the alcohol running through your veins or perhaps your curious nature but you turned to steal a glance at the figure.
All color drained from your face as you saw who it was.
As you saw her.
You met her just once in the past but the figure you saw was unmistakably the one of Mary. Smiling up at a man you instantly recognized.
You felt your heart cracking even more. You ran away as fast as you could, leaving pieces of your shattered heart behind as you reached the carriage, quickly hopping on.
During the whole ride, you tried your absolute best to not cry in front of everyone and ruin the cheerful mood, biting the inside of your cheeks as a distraction.
––––– ✧ ✦ ✧ –––––
You were back in your tent when Abigail stopped by.
“Hey, I saw you earlier and you didn’t look so good, are you ok sweetie ?” she asked, her sweet voice full of concern as she put her hand on your shoulder moving it in a calming manner, the tone of her voice and her action causing you to break down in tears like a child to their mother. She quickly pulled you into one of her comforting hugs as you violently sobbed your heart out. Soft ‘It’s ok’ left her lips as she held your shaking form in her arms. Managing to let out a small ‘Arthur’ to answer her question on what was wrong.
Seeing him with Mary tonight was the final straw. You didn’t need any more evidence, you already had everything you needed. He lied to Mary Beth about the letter, he lied to you about it too, matter of fact he lied to you about everything. How could he walk around kissing you, touching you, acting all caring as if nothing. As if he didn’t have a drawer with Mary’s letters, as if he didn’t lie to you this whole time.
Your heartbreak slowly turned into anger, the more you thought about it the more your blood boiled.
“Wanna talk about it ?” sensing you calming down from your sobs she gently fixed a strand of hair behind your ear, a concerned expression evident on her fair features. You dried your tears, your hands stained with mascara. You undoubtedly looked like a mess, or at least you felt like it.
Then, a familiar sound of hooves on the ground could be heard from the entrance of camp.
Arthur was back.
“Oh, so help me God I’m gonna strangle that piece of shit”.
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kumkaniudaku · 9 days
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Stay A While
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Summary: Terry's back home and trying to make amends with an old friend.
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC
Word Count: 3,944
Part: 1 of ??
Warnings and Notes: None. This one's a safe for work slow burn. Enjoy.
Drunk minds speak sober thoughts. Or at least Terry hoped that was the case as his thumb hovered over a familiar name in his contact list. A dingey hole in the wall became a haven on the tail end of his journey back to some sense of normalcy. He was down a bike, a truck, and a piece of his heart but continued to press on until fatigue forced him to stop for rest. The owner, a small woman with a big voice noticed his rough appearance as he passed by on foot and invited him inside to duck an incoming storm. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, even when he repeated that he had ground to make up before nightfall.
When she asked if he needed help he politely and foolishly declined all but a glass of brown liquor and access to an outlet. That same whiskey and a sprinkle of Motown-era love songs playing on a rickety jukebox had broken a grown man down enough to reach out to the one person who might still be willing to take him in. Even if only for a night.
Searching for extra courage, Terry took another sip of lukewarm Jack Daniels before tapping his phone screen. The line rang once, twice, and then a third time before a short pause signaled the call had connected. 
The silence on the other him was loud, forcing him to speak up first. 
“Hello?”
Fading voices and shuffling in the background were the only indicators of a presence on the other line, making Terry feel embarrassed for starting a call in the first place. 
He cleared his throat before speaking again. “Hey, look… if now’s not a good time I ca -” 
“Terrence? Did you mean to call me?” 
“I, uh…yeah. I did. I’m sorry. I should’ve -” 
“Are you okay? It’s loud wherever you are. You good? You hurt?” 
“I could tell you if you would give me a chance to answer,” he chuckled. His amusement made her kiss her teeth in annoyance. “I’m okay. I’m a little banged up, but I’ve seen worse. I’m somewhere between Charlotte and home. Stopped in this spot for a drink and somewhere to sleep for the night.” 
“And what does that have to do with me?” 
Terry took another swig of whiskey and sighed. “Nothing, really. I was hoping I could see you, though. You know, when I make it back tomorrow.”
“You staying anywhere when you get here?” 
“Not yet, but I’ll find somewhere. I know how to survive.”
“TJ…,” More silence. Thick. Long. Full of tension and years of baggage that they had yet to discuss. The other voice sighed before answering. “Come on by. I’ll have the back room ready for you. You need toiletries?” 
Terry’s face softened into a near smile at the invitation. “Yes ma’am. A meal would be nice, too.” 
“Okay. I’ll have you something if you can get here before dark tomorrow. Please be safe, Terrence. I mean it.” 
Before he could attempt to extend the conversation, the call ended, leaving her contact photo in full view. Terry allowed a slow grin to spread across his face just as a short text with her address came across the screen. 
“Another round, brother?” 
Terry looked up from his phone to find an expectant expression on the bartender’s face. He shook his head and reached for the wallet in his back pocket. “Nah, but thanks, man. Think I’m gonna close my tab, actually. I gotta see about a bus ticket before it’s too late.” 
“If you heading to her,” the man started, pointing toward Terry’s phone. “you need a cut, man. A lineup. Something. You look like what you been through. If you got $20, I can get you right.” A slight frown and knitted eyebrows in response made the bartender shoot his hands up in surrender. “I don’t want no problems, big dog. I just know what it’s like to see your lady after a hard time. Let me help you.” 
A quick look into the black mirror of his cell phone screen forced Terry to reckon with his appearance. He couldn’t remember his last haircut and his mustache was starting to dwarf his upper lip. He sighed and reached into his back pocket. 
“Extra $10 and you can get the face too?” 
“Extra $20 and I’ll get you where you going myself.” 
------
City noise had long been replaced by suburban quiet by the time Terry’s destination came into view. His friend back at the bar was true to his word and arranged transport that turned a 6-hour journey into 2 hours of UGK on the speakers, a little privacy, and AC on the hottest summer day so far.  
After exchanging pleasantries and cash, Terry stepped out of the cramped Honda onto the smooth driveway pavement. Every house, street sign, and front yard looked exactly as he remembered them, bringing mixed emotions forward.
The short journey to her front step felt arduous for his tired legs, but he persisted until he was mere inches from the front door. He lifted his arms and prepared to knock but stopped short when it swung open unexpectedly. 
“Knocking when I can hear those heavy feet from a mile away is courteous but unnecessary.” 
He chuckled and rubbed a hand down the back of his head. “Good to see you too, Treece.” 
Patrice greeted him with a half smile as she studied his appearance from toe to head. A few years and a little extra weight had done wonders. She settled on his eyes and softened her gaze. “You look good, TJ. Come in here and cool off.”
Stepping inside her home felt like walking into a time capsule. He’d spent so many after-school days and summer nights here that it felt like his childhood home not too far up the road. Photos from yesteryear lined the walls on the way to the living room where nothing had changed except new furniture and a bigger television on the TV stand. The heat from the oven mixing with a slight chill from the air conditioning unit kept the room comfortable enough to nap if he could settle for more than a few minutes. 
Terry’s eyes drifted from his surroundings to Patrice as she led the way. Long braids covered the back of a high school t-shirt and jean shorts. Her brown skin had become golden under the North Carolina sun, making her glow a little in the morning light. Grown woman weight had settled onto her once thin frame, transforming her into a more of a mini version of her older sister than before. All the changes he’d imagined when he had a free second were ions better in person.
Patrice gestured toward the leather recliner in the corner without speaking, inviting him to take a seat and settle in on her way to the stove.
They existed without words for a few minutes while she took fresh biscuits out of the oven and arranged them next to sausage patties and an omelet on one of her good porcelain plates. Terry trained his attention on his shoes, trying and failing to find a way to break the ice. He wanted to apologize. Confess his wrongs and desires in one grand speech designed to erase nearly ten years of absence. But the words wouldn’t form in his throat and the moment came and went. 
Balancing a dinner tray in one hand and orange juice in the other, Patrice carefully made her way to his spot in the living room. Seeing her kind eyes calmed his nerves and set his chest ablaze.
“No more pork for you, right? This is chicken sausage from my Nana and them in the country.” She asked as she sat the tray on his lap. 
He nodded in appreciation. “Yeah. You remembered?” 
“You ain’t been gone that long, TJ. I still know who you are and what you like. That orange juice don’t have pulp in it either.” 
“Thank you,” he said sheepishly before hanging his head to pray. 
“Any time.” 
A re-run of A Different World became the only sound in the room outside of an occasional content sigh from Terry as he tore through his breakfast. Patrice watched in amusement until her broad smile caught his attention. He slowed in embarrassment and returned the stare long enough to induce loud laughter from both of them. 
“I look crazy, huh?” 
“No,” she assured with a sweet smile. “You just look like you're happy to be back home, is all. Fayetteville missed you.” 
“All of Fayetteville or someone specific?” 
“Don’t start, TJ.” 
“I’m only asking a question.” He answered without making eye contact. “You know you’re the only one who still calls me that?” 
“What? TJ? That’s your name.” 
“Yeah, but…you know. It’s not 2010 anymore.” 
Patrice shrugged and settled deeper into the couch. “Considering that’s about the last time I saw you in the flesh, I guess it stuck for me. But, I can call you Terrence if you like.” 
“Nah, TJ’s good. I like it. From you…specifically.” 
The pair exchanged equally bashful looks, both too shy to say anything that would incriminate themselves. Instead, they watched the television in silence and stole looks until a commercial break took away their distraction. 
Without speaking, Terry began to gather dishes and stand, prompting Patrice to rush over before he could move too far. 
“Treece, I can do it.” 
“I know,” she answered in a sing-song voice while sliding the tray from his grasp. “But I haven’t done this for you in a while. Let me love on you a little bit.”
His eyes tracked her every move until she was behind him at the kitchen sink. Boyish nervousness made him twiddle his thumbs until words came rushing out like water from a burst pipe as he sat back down.
“So, how you doing? How you been?” 
“I’ve been okay. Mostly work and no play, you know. Thankful to be out of that classroom for a few weeks and get some peace.” 
“Yeah? Kids driving you crazy?” 
“Baby, the kids, their parents, and my parents are driving me to drink,” she laughed. “I can’t catch a break.” 
“What about your man? He driving you crazy?” 
Patrice scoffed and shook her head. Her mama and his mama talked too much. Terry chewed his bottom lip, hoping he didn’t offend. 
“We…aren’t together anymore. Hard to build a family together when he’s off building one across town.” 
Terry craned his neck around the armchair to make sympathetic eye contact. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that part. I wouldn’t have said anything.” 
“It’s alright. I gave it to God a long time ago. Maybe I’m not meant to be anybody’s wife yet.”
“Maybe you weren’t meant to be his wife.” 
“Well, it’s not like any suitors are knocking down my door for my hand in marriage.” 
“Probably because you keep swinging it open before anybody gets a chance.” 
Patrice rolled her eyes and flashed her middle finger in Terry’s direction. “Ha-ha. I see you didn’t lose your jokes at Lejeune. Only your ability to keep in touch.” 
Her retort left a shallow cut in Terry’s ego, making him turn his attention back to the television. He knew he’d broken a decades-old promise and that atoning for his sins would take time. But he also knew that, at any moment, Patrice could send him back into the world with nothing more than a full belly and a swift kick in the ass. He had to tread lightly. 
Taking the lull in conversation as his opportunity to lick his wounds in private, Terry stood and gathered his belongings in both hands. Patrice watched him from her spot with an apologetic expression. 
“You don’t have to leave. Got a couple errands to run so it’ll be quiet in here. Take the whole couch if you want.” 
“That’s alright, but thank you. Figure I can make myself useful and cut the yard. Maybe unpack some of this stuff if that’s alright with you. You got a mower?” 
“Yeah, it’s back there,” she answered, gesturing toward the backyard with her head. “Will you be here when I get back?” 
Sensing the hidden motivation behind her question, Terry dropped his bag to the ground and made his way into the kitchen. Cautiously, he leaned down to press a short kiss to Patrice’s forehead before using his index finger to tilt her head upward and meet his eyeline. “Yes. I promise. You don’t need to worry about me.” 
Her eyes fluttered closed for a half second while she nodded her understanding. A wave of relief made the hair on her arms stand at attention but she quickly bit back any urge to engage further. 
“You looked tired when you got in,” Patrice started, turning her back to Terry to conceal her flustered face. “I cleared Junior’s old bed back there. It’s a little small but sturdy. The sheets are fresh. Let me know if you need more blankets. I like it cold at night.” 
“I’ll survive, girl. I’ve slept in worse places than a full-sized bed. Thank you.” 
A split second of hesitation kept their eyes glued to one another until Terry ended the stalemate by backing out of the room and disappearing down the hallway. 
Patrice took his absence as an opportunity to compose herself. Busy hands and racing thoughts fueled a cleaning marathon until tasks that had long fallen to the bottom of her to-do list were crossed off. 
For hours they co-existed without many words exchanged. Occasionally, Patrice would steal glances at Terry while he meticulously tended to the lawn and bushes. When he could, Terry made a point to brush up against her when he walked past and agree with each of her many suggestions. Being in her space was enough for him and he dared not upset the natural harmony. 
By the time dinner rolled around, they had found a groove. A quiet dinner led to an even quieter cleanup shift and quick good nights exchanged after watching Jeopardy together. 
Terry left Patrice to her own devices while he fought to acclimate to such cushy surroundings. Try as he might, he couldn’t get used to the soft mattress below him or the near-frigid temperature in the house. Tossing and turning left him unsatisfied. The walls felt like they were converging. Flashbacks were turning into night sweats. He needed to escape.
Slowly, he slid out of bed and into a pair of slippers Patrice had gifted him earlier in the day. Measured steps help him sneak past her bed bedroom, out of the back door, and down into the backyard without causing a disturbance. 
The early June air was balmy, clinging to the skin beneath his t-shirt. In the distance loud bass from someone’s car speaker vibrated until it was out of earshot. Dogs barked and howled to salute the moon worked in tandem with the faint smell of charcoal cooling from a night of backyard barbecues to remind him that he was far from the trouble of Shelby Springs. 
It’d been a while since he could enjoy the night without being on high alert. The last week was a special kind of hell that he feared he could never shake. The urge to flee was beginning to creep in like the tide, threatening to wash away what little progress he’d made.
After a few deep breaths and mumbled prayer, Terry retreated to a porch swing to rest his weary legs. His shoulders relaxed as soon as his backside met the aged oak and, almost instantly, he felt safe enough to close his eyes. One deep breath turned into another until he was drifting into his first peaceful sleep in weeks. 
Minutes passed like seconds. Thoughts slowed to a halt. His heartbeat regulated. Near bliss was upon him.
Inside, a single lamp flipped on to illuminate Patrice’s path as she searched the house for her guest. His room and bathroom had turned up empty results with almost no sign that he’d been there throughout the day. He wasn’t on the couch or in the kitchen raiding the fridge like she half expected. Worry had all but made her pass out until she heard the slight creak of her swing on the porch, making his head appear and disappear from the window above the sink.
She couldn’t fully open the door before Terry opened one eye and looked in her direction. She froze and he smiled.
“Feet not as heavy as you thought, huh?” 
“Yeah, yeah. If I’d known you trade in a bed for this old thing I wouldn’t have wasted my time on laundry.” 
“Hey, I built this old thing, remember?”
Patrice chuckled at the memory and pointed at the metal chain keeping the swing in place. “Damn near lost a finger behind it, too.”
“Would’ve been worth it knowing you were happy.” Patrice nervously shifted her weight from left to right under Terry’s intense gaze while he took his turn to look her over. Finally noticing her awkwardly standing between the screendoor, he motioned to the spot beside him. “Sit with me for a second.”
Patrice visibly wrestled with her decision but ultimately joined him. They maintained a careful distance, being sure to keep their individual limbs from connecting for fear that the mere sensation would set them ablaze. They played a childish game of cat and mouse until Patrice spoke.
“I was rude earlier,” Patrice confessed while fiddling with the hem of her t-shirt. Terry closed his heavy eyes to cure the burning sensation growing by the minute but acknowledged her statement with a confused grunt. She continued. “I never asked how you were doing. The whole thing about my ex sort of brought up old feelings.” 
He frowned, hurt by her revelation. “You know I wasn’t trying to hurt you, right?” 
“You never are. Same ol’ honorable TJ. Terry, I mean.” 
“TJ for you.” 
Again he popped one eye open and paired it with a grin that disamered Patrice and made her giggle like her high school self. The sound had him resolve that he’d spend his whole life making stupid faces if it meant she’d get some joy from them. 
“You ready to tell me everything I missed or are you content with popping up on my porch? And how long do you plan to be here eating all my food, anyway?” 
“I don’t think you wanna hear that,” he answered in an attempt to dodge the loaded question. Patrice persisted. 
“No, I do. I see the tattoos and the fresh haircut. TJ turned into a man while he was gone. At least let me get to know this new person.” 
“I grew up,” he sighed after some time. “Gained some. Lost a lot. Still trying to pick up the pieces.”
“What’d you lose?” 
“Lately? Money. Family. Shit, my mind.” 
“Why?”
“Mike died.” An abrupt interruption of an already complicated conversation brought forth a long pause. He waited for an interjection but found none, prompting him to offer more details. “He was killed. In jail. I tried to get him out and bring him home but I was too late.” Terry answered without making eye contact. Shame wouldn’t allow him to meet her potential judgment.
Patrice mentally cycled through names and faces until she realized the gravity of Terry’s statement. She reached out to breach their unspoken barrier and grabbed his hand which he accepted with no pushback.
“You wanna talk about it?” 
“Not really,” he answered before squeezing her hand and finally returning her eye contact. “I handled everything. It’s over for now. I’m here with you. We can focus on that.” 
“Even though you keep skipping how long you’ll stay.”
Patrice’s warmth was starting to take a backseat to her cold nature. Old wounds had started to re-open and rebuild a wall they both thought they’d successfully hurdled. Despite her attempt to pull her hand out of his grasp, Terry stayed put. He eyed her for a moment, picking up on a thin veil of tears threatening to form at her water line. 
She watched his normally steely blue-gray eyes soften into something that mirrored the softness he carried when they were kids. She couldn’t find the gumption to look away as he brought her knuckles up to his lips for a set of short kisses before looking back up at her. Pleading. Begging for any indication that she had softened her heart toward him. 
“Treecey, I’m sorry. I don’t know how else to say it. You meant more to me than the way I left and I pray every day for a chance to make it right. We crossed a line that night and I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t handle that like a man should have. I’m sorry until I’m blue in the face.” 
Sincerity was thick in his voice despite his low, even tone. 
Patrice listened without a word. A single tear cascaded down her face despite her valiant attempts to keep her emotions at bay. She swore she’d never cry about Terrence Richmond again. But old habits die hard. 
Terry used his free hand to swipe away that tear and the next one sitting at her lower lash line with the pad of his thumb.
“Say something,” he pleaded. “Anything. Tell me you hate me.” 
“You know I don’t hate you,” she whispered, too choked up to continue without a deep breath. “I…I just feel like you took a piece of me with you, you know? And you never wrote back. You never called. You shut me out like we were never friends. We could’ve gone back to how things were.” 
“I fucked that up.” 
“I’m aware. But that doesn’t mean that I trust you won’t do it again. No matter how much I don’t hate you, I’m not eighteen anymore. My patience is thin. I can’t allow you to turn my world upside down again.” 
“Hand to God I wouldn’t dream of it.” 
“Yeah. I hope so.” Though she whispered, Patrice’s words sliced through Terry like a hot knife through butter. 
He hung his head in defeat as she pulled her hand from his grasp and made quick work of standing from the bench. Her footsteps retreated past him and to the back door until she paused. 
He looked over his shoulder to find her eyes closed and chin pointed to the sky in contemplative silence. This was it. The final blow. 
She took a deep breath and stared straight ahead. “Stay as long as you want. Junior’s living with his girlfriend now, so nobody’s coming to make you leave. Tomorrow, we can go get you some new clothes. I’m tired of looking at those raggedy t-shirts already.” 
Terry took her jab in stride and gave her a half smile as a sign of compliance. “Yes ma’am. Thank you.” 
“Mhm. Lock the door behind you when you come in.” 
“Good night, Treecey.” His farewell came in an annoyingly sweet voice as a last-ditch effort to drag some loving words from her. Patrice stopped and gave him one more once over and a dismissive eye roll.
He waited for the ghost of a smile that disappeared before he could blink. She shook her head and took a step inside the house.
“Shut up, Terry. Go to bed.” 
Terry hid his amusement until she was out of sight, leaving him alone to grin at how even her rebukes felt like love letters. 
“Shut up,” he repeated to himself as he closed his eyes to doze again. “Hm. I’ll take it.” 
TAGS: @planetblaque
Happy to tag whoever is interested.
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ikigaisvt · 6 months
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quiet love
in which your boyfriend vernon likes showing his love for you in a quiet way.
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pairing: vernon x f!reader words count: 2k content: childhood bestfriends to lovers, fluff, domestic warnings: so soft but very corny, contains pretty common prompts imo, vernon's love language is not words of affirmation lol, implied that kids are mean to vernon, mention of driving, drinking, loss and exes, reader is sick at one point (the flu), a lot of food/eating talk, they are so healthy youre gonna throw up, soooo much physical affection they make me SICK (holding hands, kissing, playing with each other's hairs, hugging etc), babe/baby petnames note: omg im alive?!?!? hiii!! it's been so long since i posted a fic! this one is a birthday gift for the loml @vcrnons <3 happy birthday, u know it all already but don't forget i love u sm!!! i hope you enjoy this childhoodbff!vernon (it's ur thing) who's very very in love but very very shy to say it. hope anyone else who sees this fic enjoy too! don't forget to interact with this if u liked it, rbs are very very very appreciated! thank u<3 (also this was proofread by tired me so if there is any mistakes, ignore it pls thanks <3)
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Vernon has always been a man of a few words; when you first met him in elementary school, he was the quiet boy and nothing could get him to speak apart from spinning tops and his favorite cartoons. Still, you decided to befriend that calm boy – at the time, people used to think you were only being nice but deep down you knew: you were making a friend for life.
Going through all of the different steps of childhood and teenage hood with Vernon by your side was an experience – you raised hell together, driving your parents crazy. But it was also having a best friend to experience each other’s every first times: first partners, first time driving, first time getting drunk but also first breakup, first bad haircut and first loss. You have seen each other through everything. No, you have watched over each other through everything; wherever you were, Vernon was standing two steps back, making sure you were always safe. And wherever he was, you were always standing two steps back, making sure he was always loved.
And that’s how you both fell in love. It was slow and secure; falling in love with Vernon was never complicated or painful. It was how things dropped into place and none of you ever denied it; at the time you knew you were meant to be – maybe you always did. And so, you let yourself fall into each other’s arms, a safe place, full of quiet love.
You were 24 years old when Vernon first wanted to tell you he loved you; yet, he didn’t have the courage to fess up. Having spent his whole life showing his love through actions, he had a hard time saying it out loud. After a nice date to the cinema and the restaurant, he drove you back home, small talk and look exchanged during the trip. As soon as he puts the car in park, he reaches out to hold your hand, his thumb drawing circles.
“Had a nice time tonight?” he asks.
“Of course I did,” you answer, a blush creeping on your cheeks, “You know I always do with you,” you add, reaching out to cup his cheek.
“You need to go, you have an early day tomorrow,” he tells you, kissing your palm.
“Yeah, I’m going,” you say as you reach down for your bag and open the door, “Let me know when you’re home, okay?”
“Of course,” he says as he holds your face between his hand, “You do the same,” he adds against your lips before kissing you softly.
“It’s literally two steps away, I’m already home,” you chuckle as you exit the car.
“Won’t leave until I get the text, babe,” he smiles as he leans over the center console to look at you.
You roll your eyes sarcastically at him but still, your lips go up into a smile as your cheeks reddens from the way he so apologetically loves and cares for you. This boy would do anything to make sure you see how much he adores you. So, you wave him goodbye and it’s only when you close your front door and his phone buzzes with an i’m home :) drive safe, text me xx that you hear him drive off.
The second time he almost confessed to loving you was when you were 25. You had just gotten over an awful flu that got you bed ridden for days, unable to go on with your schedule as you normally would. You were sleeping the sickness off for hours on end, only waking up when Vernon knocked on your door to check up on you. Honestly, he knew it was only the flu, but he was so scared for you; in his eyes, you always appeared as the strongest women on earth so seeing you so weak and tired pulled at his heartstrings. He thought about confessing his undying love as you were blowing your nose – maybe it will magically heal her, he thought one night. But deep down he knew you needed someone to help you out physically and so, he did. He had taken such good care of you; he kept your home clean, did the laundry and helped you out to the shower if needed. He had thought about doing the cooking but he knew his poor skills wouldn’t get you to eat at all. So, even if you couldn’t finish your plates, he had ordered your favorite meals all week, even if he didn’t really like some of those.
It's been a few days since you last had a fever, so even if you were still blowing your nose and coughing a little bit, you could still get out of bed and hang out with Vernon. You two decided to have an at-home date, ordering your favorite meals and watching the show you recently started together. Since you were less sick you could finally finish your plate and eat more than usual; even after finishing your food, your stomach was still grumbling.
“I’m still hungry,” you whisper to yourself, not thinking Vernon would hear you.
“Yeah?” he asks, still looking at the TV as he holds a spoon full of food in the air, “Want a bite?” he says as he looks at you.
“Is that okay?” you ask, not wanting to take away his favorite food. Even when you were sick, you saw how Vernon only ordered your favorite foods – he deserved to have every bite of his favorite dish.
“Of course it is!” he smiles at you, extending his spoon in front of you, “You like it?” he asks, waiting for your nods of approval.
You nod enthusiastically, giving him a thumbs up with a smile, “That’s so good!” you exclaim before Vernon reaches for your plate. You look at him, wondering what he is up to before you see him fill your empty plate with more than half of his meal, “No, no, no,” you say, trying to reach for it as Vernon puts it out of reach from you.
“You need to eat, babe,” he says as he puts the dish on your lap, “Go on,” he smiles, patting your head before turning his attention back to his almost finished meal and the tv.
You smile down, cheeks red from your boyfriend’s attention. You notice how he gave you the tastier part of his dish – meat, veggies and a lot of gravy with a good amount of rice – and he kept most of the rice and only a piece of meat for himself. You start to eat happily, re-adjusting your position on the sofa to be closer to him. It might have been a year and a half since you started dating with no I love you’s said, but you know this is how he shows he loves you. And that is enough for you – it will always be.
It's now been two years since you started dating Vernon; you’re 26 years old, living with your boyfriend, your two cats and waking up every day with the love of your life next to you. Life is beautiful and you could not ask for more. To celebrate your anniversary with Vernon, you planned a trip to your hometown - only a 1 hour-drive from home – so you can have your date where you first kissed: at the cinema. If someone told Vernon he would one day ignore a movie to give his attention to a human being, he would have laughed at their face. But here he is. Countless of movies and shows watched with you right there, next to him, and yet you always steal his gaze away from the screen. You are just so beautiful, he thinks to himself. And when he sees you, laughing at a stupid joke from a character, he smiles with you. Not because the joke is funny, no, but because he cannot watch you without his heart filling up and his feelings pouring out onto his lips. He knew since he woke up that day, on your 2 years anniversary, that he would say it. It had been on the tip of his tongue since the first time he saw you in elementary school, smiling at everyone and saving bugs, but he always held it back. He thought it would be too soon, too fast, too much – but how can love ever be those things? he realized recently. He had said I love you a thousand times already through his actions, he had said he loved you out loud to his friends, his family, his cats. He thought now was the time you should hear it. So, all day, his head was in the clouds, thinking how to bring this up, how to say I’m in love with you to his soulmate. It happens when you pull him into your apartment at 1 am, your anniversary already over. You both get rid of your shoes, the tiredness of the day finally falling on your shoulders, before you pull him into you for a hug. Your arms stay at his waist, his heart going thump, thump, thump against yours as his cheek rest on the crown of your head.
“Gonna let you go to sleep,” you mumble against his shirt before letting him go, “I’m gonna shower.”
“Hey- babe,” he says softly to get your attention, his hand wrapping around your wrist, “need to tell you something,” he tells you as you’re pulled back against his chest, hands on his front as one of his rest on your waist, the other one covering your cheek.
“Everything’s okay?” you ask, rubbing circle on the fabric of his shirt.
“Yeah, everything’s good,” he whispers, his eyes going down to look at your lips and up again, “You’re pretty,” he speaks under his breath, a blush making its way on your cheeks – and his.
“Thank you,” you smile as you reach for his neck, pulling him down for a kiss, “You’re not so bad yourself,” you whisper against his lips.
He holds onto your cheeks, your foreheads resting against each other, “I love you,” he murmurs so low you think you made it up but as you open your eyes and see tears in his own, you know this is nothing but real life.
“Oh,” you gasp softly, taken aback, “I love you too,” you say, smiling up at the love of your life.
“I know this was long overdue and I’m sorry it took me so long-“ he starts to babble, uneasiness bubbling in his chest before you cut him off with a kiss.
“It’s okay,” you whisper, playing with the hair at his nape, “To me, you’ve said it a thousand times,” you reassure him as he blushes, chuckling softly at how you always find the right words for him, “But a thousand more wouldn’t hurt,” you tease slightly, making him snort.
“I love you,” he repeats, his arms wrapping around your shoulders as yours find a resting place at his waist, rubbing his back over his shirt.
“Again,” you say with a smile in your voice before kissing his chest in an I love you too.
“I love you,” he says against your hair, his hands making its way under the straps of your dress.
“Again,” you ask him, never getting enough of these words flowing out of his lips.
“I love you,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, leaving a kiss behind, “so much.”
“I’ll never get tired of hearing this,” you whisper, your hands meeting the end of his shirt, “I love you,” you say as you touch his bare back.
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he says like a mantra, “I’d unlearn any other words so all you could hear is my love for you,” he whispers, his eyes meeting yours, before your lips collide – just like your worlds did so many years ago.
You’ve always found reassurance in this quiet love you and Vernon were giving each other – but maybe you liked your love being a little louder sometimes.
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thank u for reading! hope you enjoyed hehe <3
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pathologicalreid · 6 months
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Hi, I was hoping you could please write a Spencer x fem!reader where they're hanging out as friends but they get separated and she gets aggressively hit on and is uncomfy. He sees this, realizes he likes her in that way, gets jealous, and steps in to protect her? Please oh please!!!
red flags | S.R.
spencer steps in to protect you from a drunkard
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: protective!spencer, bars, alcohol, reader gets very aggressively hit on and is called a bitch and baby doll, reader is explicitly referred to as female (girl, lady, woman), kissing, spencer makes the first move (ooc?), the guy at the bar should be arrested ngl word count: 1.17k a/n: i fear i may have verged from the request, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless! thank you so very much for requesting!!!!! <333
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Shaking your head, you stood up from the table, “It’s fine, I’ll go up to the bar.”
“Are you sure?” Spencer asked from his seat, looking up at you with big brown eyes.
Smiling softly at him, you grabbed your purse off of the booth seat and walked across the restaurant to the bar. Neither you nor Spencer were really “bar” people, but this place was close enough to Marbury University’s campus that it felt worth your while.
That, and it had been deemed a “townie” bar by your students, so there was a low probability of running into any pupils here.
Dinner with your colleague had eventually turned into your entire night spent in that very booth, now that the kitchen had closed and the waitstaff clocked out for the night, you had to go to the bar to get water.
As you waited for the bartender to notice you, you turned your head back and shot Spencer a reassuring smile. You weren’t sure either of you had been in this situation before – no one wanted the night to end.
Next to you, a man nudged you with his arm, “I’ll pay for the lady’s drink.” Judging by the smell of him, he’d had enough drinks for the entire bar.
“I’m just getting water,” you brushed the man off, holding up the number two to let the bartender know that you wanted two glasses of water.
Naturally, the drunkard next to you didn’t get the message, he continued to pester you, “We can’t have that, let me get you a drink, little lady.”
Demeaning nickname aside, you had no interest in drinking anything this man purchased. Crinkling your nose, you responded, “Thanks, but I’m really not interested.”
He leaned over the bar and looked at you, bright green eyes and salt and pepper hair – your unwelcome companion was probably old enough to be your father. “In me or the drink?” He asked as you tried not to gag at the sheer stench of whiskey on his breath.
Resolutely, you decided not to answer the man’s questions. Your attempts at placating him were obviously not turning out the way you had wanted them to.
“Hey,” he interrupted your thoughts. “I asked you a question,” he prodded.
He was persistent. Persistent men were bothersome, but persistent drunk men were dangerous. Red flags were appearing in your head as you looked over at him, “Neither, I suppose.” Glancing back at your table, you hoped to shoot a ‘help me’ look to Spencer, but he was nowhere to be found.
The man seemed offended at your answer, reaching out to set a hand on your arm. The red flags quickly morphed into sirens. “What, are you some kind of prude or something?”
Despite your attempts to remain stone-faced, your lips parted in shock.
Lowering his head so it was level with yours, he whispered, “I can fuck the prude out of a girl, you know?”
Had he really just said that to you? In a public place?
“She said she’s not interested,” a familiar voice said from behind you as you flicked the man’s hand off of your upper arm.
Your harasser looked outraged as if he was viewing Spencer stepping in as a personal attack. Scoffing, the older man shook his head, “Do you usually butt into other people’s conversations?”
Spencer furrowed his eyebrows in response to the challenge, “Do you usually harass women at bars?”
“Fuck off, dude,” he said. You held back a laugh in response to this man calling Spencer ‘dude.’
Shrugging, Spencer reached out a pulled you away from the man, familiarly setting his hand on your waist. You weren’t sure how long had had been standing behind you, but you were glad he was there. “Why didn’t you?” Spencer retorted easily, you supposed he worked with people like this often when he worked with the FBI.
A confused look contorted the man’s features, “What the fuck do you mean?” He obviously wasn’t used to being stood up to.
“When she asked to be left alone, you didn’t. What makes you more deserving of having your wish granted?” Spencer impugned easily, never moving his hand from where it rested on your waist. Without meaning to, you had backed into him, leaning your back into his chest.
What looked like realization dawned on the man’s face as he nodded. “Oh,” he said, the gravel in his voice causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up.
You peered up at Spencer, “Can we just go, please?” You implored. The bill was paid, you just needed to walk out the door.
“You’re already screwing her,” the man said – far too confidently.
Flinching at his crude language, this time you tugged at Spencer’s jacket to try and get his attention, “Spencer, let’s just go.”
The drunk man shook his head, “No, baby doll. Don’t go. I want to know what he thinks he’s gonna do. Are you gonna stop me from getting to your bitch?”
Before Spencer even had the opportunity to react to his words, you had instinctively grabbed one of the ice waters that the bartender had placed on the mat and tossed it in his face. Maybe it would help him sober up, but it felt good either way.
Reinvigorated, you grabbed Spencer’s hand and dragged him out of the restaurant, not stopping until you were up the street and away from the bar. “What was that?” You mumbled to yourself; you had never lashed out against someone like that.
“I’m sorry,” Spencer said from behind you, causing you to spin on your heel. You peered up at him through mascara-covered lashes as you waited for him to continue his thoughts. “It wasn’t my intention to make him think you couldn’t stand up for yourself, but you looked so uncomfortable out there that I had to step in. Believe me, I’ve seen situations where that exact situation has gone south very quickly.”
You did believe him. Timidly, you nodded in acknowledgment “Thank you, Spencer. I was uncomfortable,” you admitted, “I’m glad you were there.”
Taking a deep breath, you stepped away from him, looking at the street signs and trying to acclimate yourself to your location.
“Do you mind if we take the long way around Third Street? I don’t really want to have to oh-“ You were cut off by the feeling of soft lips on yours.
All night, you had been thinking of ways to make the first move. It hadn’t occurred to you that he would be the one to make the first move.
Slowly, Spencer pushed you back against the brick wall, moving the both of you so you weren’t in the middle of the sidewalk. Shyly, you reached up and wove your fingers in his hair as he kissed you as if his life depended on it.
Leaving you breathless, he pulled away. “As it turns out, I don’t mind taking the long way around. At all.”
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alwaysmicado · 1 year
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You wanted this
3.1k | 18+ MDNI | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 1
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When he gives you this look, you know you're fucked - literally.
Warnings: no outbreak au, implied age gap, alcohol, smut: piv sex, rough oral m and f receiving, rimming, choking, D/s dynamic, creampie, pet names, degradation/praise Summary: Joel and you have a fun dynamic going. You provoke him, he punishes you - you both get off. When you meet him after you’ve fucked someone else, he decides to show you who you belong to. It’s all fun and games, right? A/N: Please read the warnings before you continue! You're about to read unadulterated filth. We're headed straight for Whoreville™️ and there's no getting off early (wink wink). We'll see more of these two for sure... Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 🖤 pt. 2 / series masterlist / AO3
“You look hot,” you purr into Joel’s ear, “expecting someone special?” He chuckles and turns to look at you.
“I actually was,” he smirks, “but she was too busy flirting with some random guy over there, so now I’m just entertaining myself with a drink.”
He taps the glass and studies your face. You look especially stunning tonight, your skin is glowing and your smile is illuminating the dimly lit bar.
“I wouldn’t exactly call it flirting,” you coo, playing with the straw of your cocktail. Joel raises an eyebrow in amusement.
“Is that right? What else would you call it, darlin’?”
“Trying to explain to him why I left him alone in bed a few days ago and never returned his calls,” you answer while maintaining eye contact.
“Hmm, and why did you?” Joel asks, taking another sip of his drink.
You scoff and shake your head. “None of your business, Miller.” He gives you a knowing smile and nods. 
“It’s a shame though,” his deep sultry voice makes you shiver, “I know how nice it is to wake up next to you.” He puts his hand on your knee, causing your skin to heat up and a familiar ache to grow between your legs. 
“You’ve only ever done it once because I was too drunk to go home, so how would you know, hm?” you purr, leaning in to be closer to him.
“So feisty today,” he starts caressing your thigh gently, brushing the hem of your mini dress, “I’m assuming you’re frustrated because you haven’t been fucked right?”
You chuckle and down the rest of your drink. “I dunno, Joel. What would you call not being able to walk for the past three days because he fucked me for hours on end? I’m sure you could still see bite marks on my thighs if you looked closely,” you smirk and open your legs for him to see you’re not wearing any panties. 
Joel’s grip on your thigh tightens, his eyes completely black now. “You wanna act like a whore, baby?” he growls and grips your hip with his other hand, “You know I got no problem treating you like one.”
He starts kissing your neck with his warm wet lips, mumbling into your skin how he’s going to enjoy putting you in your place. You’re legs are trembling and you’re moaning softly into his ear. 
He loves seeing you like this - squirming under his touch, pupils blown, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. All because of him.
“Get up,” he orders, “we’re going.”
---
“Last chance, darlin',” Joel growls, “I ain't gonna be gentle, so get the fuck out now if you can't take it.” Oh, now he did it. He's playing you like a fiddle and you both know it.
“Do your worst, old man,” you bite back, raising an eyebrow at him. 
“You’re gonna regret that, sweetheart.” He glowers at you, the darkness in his eyes setting all of your nerves on fire. 
He closes the distance between you two in a few strides and towers over you menacingly. You can feel the heat radiating off his body and smell the irresistible scent that is so uniquely him. The ache between your legs is becoming unbearable. 
Joel leans in, his left hand pulling you close by your waist, his right hand grabbing the back of your neck, forcing you to meet his gaze. 
“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you forget you ever even met that asshole. You understand?” “Yes, sir,” you nod, wetness seeping out of your pussy. You fucking love it when he gets like this. 
Joel’s eyes carefully search yours and when he’s satisfied with what he finds, he immediately pulls you close to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss. He’s greedily sucking and biting at your lips, tangling one hand in your hair and squeezing your ass with the other, wanting to devour you - make you his. 
You’re just as eager to give him what he wants, completely pliant under his touch, moaning into his mouth and rubbing yourself on his thigh. 
“Fuck,” Joel pants, breaking the kiss and tracing your swollen bottom lip with his thumb. 
He looks into your glazed over eyes, mesmerized by the fact that such a stunning creature is submitting to him so willingly. He palms himself over his pants, his cock painfully hard and in desperate need of relief.  
“On your knees, baby. Hands on your thighs,” he commands, his gaze never leaving yours while you lower yourself on the floor. “Good girl,” he praises, unzipping his pants and pulling them down together with his boxer briefs just enough to free his heavy cock and balls. 
You gasp at the sight, never really getting used to his sheer size, despite having taken him before. You bite your lip and press your thighs together to relieve at least some of the burning ache in your core.
“God, you’re beautiful when you’re desperate for my cock,” Joel murmurs, tilting your chin up and pressing down on your tongue with his thumb, “my beautiful girl. Now, you’re gonna take what I give you, darlin’. I’m not gonna stop, so don’t even try your whining. The only thing I wanna hear is you gagging on my cock, got it?” 
“Yes, sir.” 
“Good.”
Joel positions himself in front of your mouth and taps your lips with the tip of his cock. “Open up, baby, stick your tongue out.” You do just that and Joel hums approvingly. 
Holding the base with his right hand, he slides his cock into your warm wet mouth in one single thrust until he’s hitting the back of your throat. “Fuuuck, that’s it, baby,” Joel groans, “I’ve missed your perfect mouth so much.” 
You gag and sputter, trying to move your head to relax your throat for a second, but Joel is faster than you, gripping the back of your head with both of his hands, effectively holding you in place. 
“Nuh-uh, princess,” he tuts mockingly, “where do you think you’re going, huh?” Your eyes are watering and you feel like you’re choking, but Joel just smirks at you. “Eyes on me, sweetheart. I want you to look at me while I’m fucking your pretty face,” and with that he sets a punishing pace, bucking his hips into your mouth over and over again. 
You're gorgeous - on your knees, reduced to a crying, drooling mess over his cock. Joel's clenching his teeth, every muscle in his body strained while forcing you to take his length. 
“You’re doing so well, baby. So perfect for me,” he groans, sending shivers down your spine. Your clit is throbbing and you can feel yourself growing wetter with every second.
When one of Joel’s thrusts hits particularly deep, you instinctively brace your hands against his thighs, trying to push him away. He just laughs at you, tightening his grip on your neck. 
“Poor baby,” he scoffs, “not used to my big cock anymore? Why fuck that loser if he doesn’t even do it right, hm?” Your cheeks are burning and you shove at his legs again. “Keep doing that,” Joel chuckles, “you look so cute when you try to fight me.” 
He thrusts his hips a few more times before pulling out with a strangled groan and releasing your head. “Don’t wanna come yet,” he mumbles. You’re immediately gasping for air, chest heaving, tears still spilling down from your now closed eyes. Joel scoops up the thick string of saliva that connects his cock with your lips and spreads it on your cheeks. His soft touch doesn’t match the filthy action.
He crouches down so he’s on your level and tilts your head up gently. “Hey, look at me,” he scans your face, “you okay?” Your eyes meet his concerned gaze. “Yeah, yeah. Just needed a second to breathe,” you reassure him.
He looks at you intently for a moment longer before getting up and motioning to the bed. “Take your clothes and shoes off and lie on your back.” 
You get up and pull your dress over your head, take off your heels and sway your hips on your way to Joel’s bed. It smells like him and you hate that you can’t stay and fall asleep here. Pull him close at night, savor his warmth, marvel at his precious sleepy face in the morning. 
As soon as you’re lying in the middle of the bed, your head propped up on Joel’s pillows, he walks towards you. “Spread your pretty legs for me, darlin’. I wanna see how wet you got choking on my cock.” 
You slowly open your legs while keeping eye contact. Joel sucks in a sharp breath at the sight of your puffy and glistening cunt. He unbuttons his shirt hastily, letting it fall to the floor. “Touch your clit, baby,” he pants, unlacing his shoes and keeping his eyes on you. 
You obey and start circling your neglected bundle of nerves with two fingers. A desperate moan escapes your lips as you’re finally able to get some relief. Joel takes off his shoes and pants, staring at you for a second before climbing on the bed and stopping between your legs.  
“Fuck, baby, you’re so beautiful.” He slowly traces your legs with his fingertips, enjoying how you writhe under his touch. When he stops just at the apex of your thighs, you whine desperately, only for him to do it again.
“Please touch me, Joel, please,” you whimper, unable to keep your composure anymore. He sits back on his heels and keeps caressing your thighs while you’re continuously drawing circles on your clit. 
“D’you fuck him raw?” he asks, grabbing your wrist to halt your movement.
You gaze into his dark eyes and shake your head, “No.” He nods and starts peppering your thighs with kisses, gripping your hips with his calloused hands.
“Good,” he murmurs, nipping and biting at your soft skin, “‘cause I’m not wearing a goddamn condom with you. Gonna pump you so full of my cum you’ll be leaking me until I fill you up again.” You whimper at the prospect of feeling Joel’s warm cum deep inside you again and try to shift your hips, so he’ll finally touch you where you most need him.
“Mmm, yeah baby, I like the thought of that, too,” he smirks, his face now hovering right above your wet cunt, “but I really wanna taste you first.” He starts by spreading your lips with his hands, opening you up for him to look at you fully exposed.
“Fuck me, sweetheart,” he groans, “you have the cutest little pussy I’ve ever seen.” He draws the hood of your clit back with his right thumb, keeping your lips spread with his left middle and index finger. You mewl at the sensation, spurring him on to finally latch his lips onto your yearning clit, sucking eagerly before licking a broad stripe from your asshole up to your wet slit. 
“Oh fuuuck!” you cry out, clawing at the sheets when he repeats the motion with his tongue, now also circling your clit with his thumb. “Mmm, you taste divine, darlin’.” He slides two fingers inside your warm cunt, pumping them in and out of you steadily. The squelching sounds from your pussy mixed with the sound of your breathy moans are making Joel dizzy. 
Right when he feels your walls starting to clamp down around his fingers, he stops his movements. “Turn around for me, baby. Ass up face down,” he orders, sitting back on his heels to watch you get into position. 
“Good girl,” he purrs, “being so good for me, doing everything I say”. He caresses your ass cheeks and the backs of your thighs before dragging his nose through your wet folds, inhaling your intoxicating scent. Your whole body shivers at the sensation.
Joel starts sucking on your clit again while fucking you with two of his thick fingers. You clench around him, the way he’s rhythmically pumping his fingers in and out of you almost enough to send you over the edge right then. 
“Fuck, baby, so sensitive today,” Joel teases, licking from your clit up to your asshole. He starts lapping at the tight ring eagerly, reducing you to a whimpering, trembling mess when he dips his tongue inside of you repeatedly. “Mmm, I love the pretty little sounds you make for me,” he groans, wiping his mouth and chin with his forearm.
He spreads your cheeks and looks at your exposed holes in awe. You look absolutely delicious and Joel wants nothing more than to bury himself as deep inside you as possible. He laps your juices up thirstily, the vibrations from his moans sending shockwaves through your whole body. His throbbing cock is leaking precum, screaming for attention.  
“I need to fuck you, baby” Joel hisses, manhandling you onto your back. He’s on you in an instant, kissing you hungrily, his hand tangling in your hair. You squirm underneath him, tilting your pelvis to gain some friction. “Please, Joel, please fuck me.”
He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he finally aligns his tip with your core and pushes his cock into your wet hole in one quick thrust.
You gasp at the intense sensation of him splitting you open, not allowing you any time to adjust to his size. “Oh fuck, baby, your cunt is gripping me so hard I can barely move,” Joel moans breathlessly, rolling his hips to pump his cock inside of you again and again. 
His pelvis puts delicious pressure on your swollen clit and you start to push against his thrusts to chase your high. Joel grabs your legs and puts them over his shoulders, kissing and biting your calves until you scream. The new angle allows him to hit a spot deep inside you that has you quivering and shaking, bringing you closer to your orgasm with each powerful thrust of his hips. 
“Oh fuck, Joel, you feel so fucking good,” you moan, throwing your head back and curling your toes. He grins, reaching around your legs to grab your soft tits with his hands. He massages them roughly, tweaking your nipples until you cry out in pain. “You’re so perfect for me,” Joel pants, mesmerized by the way your body moves under him, “my perfect little slut.”
Your cunt involuntarily clenches around him and you can’t hold back the needy moan that escapes your lips.
“Oh, the princess likes that, huh” Joel teases, “likes when I call her my little slut?” You furrow your brow and nod at him. “Mmm I like it, too,” he groans while continuing to snap his hips at an unrelenting pace, “always want you to be my slut. Mine.”
You can feel your orgasm approaching fast, the combination of Joel’s cock and possessiveness hitting all the right spots in your cunt and mind. 
“Fuck, baby, your pussy’s choking the fuck outta me,” he chortles, burying his face in the crook of your neck, sucking and biting at the delicate skin. You cry out from the overwhelming mix of sensations and Joel answers you by putting his hand around your neck, expertly shutting you up without cutting off your air supply. 
“Stop being a brat if you can’t take the consequences, baby,” Joel murmurs, his face hovering above yours, an amused smile playing on his lips. You glare at him, but he quickly disarms you by leaning down and kissing you passionately. You wrap your legs around his waist and dig your nails into his back. Your skin is on fire and you have zero control left over your body. It’s all his.
He puts your left leg over his shoulder again, splitting you open even more. The volume of your desperate moans increases as Joel keeps fucking your pussy with abandon.
“Fuck, that the spot baby?” he pants. “Yeah,” you whimper, “please don’t stop.” “Look at me,” he grabs the side of your neck and rubs your cheek with his thumb, “tell me your mine.” He looks at you with wild eyes, sweat glistening on his skin. 
“Yes, Joel, fuck I- I’m yours. Fuck, keep going,” you whine, the tension in your core so close to snapping. “I got you, baby. Let go for me, I wanna feel you,” Joel encourages you, chasing his own high deep inside you. 
“Oooh, Joel, I’m gonna come,” you sob as your walls spasm and contract around his cock, shockwaves of pleasure gripping your whole body and blurring your vision. You’re convulsing in ecstasy, not knowing where your body ends and Joel’s begins.
In this moment right now, you’re one.  
“F-Fuck!” Joel comes so hard his final thrust pushes your body up the bed. He spills himself deep inside you, your pulsing pussy milking every last drop of his cum. He collapses onto you with a strangled groan, panting heavily. 
“Fuck, darlin’, you tryna kill me or something?” You giggle and start drawing shapes on his back with your fingers. Joel kisses your neck and hums contentedly, making sure his cock stays buried inside of you for as long as possible.
---
“Are you gonna be good from now on, hm?” He nudges your cheek with his nose. You turn to face him and look into his eyes. 
“No, sir.” 
He chuckles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Good girl.”
You press a soft kiss on his lips before turning around and getting up. You put your dress and heels back on and walk over to the bathroom. 
“You don’t need to leave, you know,” you hear Joel say from behind you. You sigh and flick the light on. 
“I can’t stay, Joel.” You look into the bathroom mirror and quickly comb through your hair with your fingers. Your makeup is smudged, but it’s dark out so you don’t care. 
“We could order from that Indian place you like and watch Heat again. Besides, it’s getting late,” he murmurs, looking at you with his big puppy eyes. 
You smile at him, but don’t answer. He nods and gets up from the bed to lead you to the front door. 
“Okay, sweetheart. But text me when you get home, alright?” 
“I will.” 
He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. 
“See you around, darlin’.”
---
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