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#I’ve shared more adult things there before
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How do you write a child character who is knowledgeable and experienced but is not annoying or unrealistic? I'm a big fan of ATLA and Percy Jackson novels (as well as the anime HxH) and all of the main leads in the series are very worldly for children who are around 12 year olds and yet never come across as too overpowered or irritating, which is something that I'm worried I'll do in my writing. It's hard for me to design a characterization that balances the fact that they are in the end just really smart kids but not just adults in children bodies.
Writing Smart Kids Who Aren't Adults in Kid Bodies
If you spend some time studying the relevant characters, I suspect you'll find that even though they're smart, experienced, and accomplished, they're still given plenty of kid moments. They'll have kid-relevant flaws, kid-specific/appropriate thoughts, moments where they're just being "normal" kids (or want to be if they can't), and they're not being shown doing or thinking adult things.
See what's typical for kids of your character's age, and make sure to incorporate some of those things into the character. It makes all the difference!
Writing Kids Writing from a Child’s POV
Happy writing!
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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!
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moonstruckme · 3 months
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poly!marauders x reader helping her move into their shared flat! maybe a little angst cuz she doesn’t wanna impose but also fluffy
Thanks for requesting!
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words
“Angel, we’ve got it,” James says again, warding you off with a playfully stern look when you get too close to your own dresser. Sirius, clutching the other end for dear life, looks less confident. “Go start putting things the way you like them, we’ll handle the rest of the big stuff.” 
You give Sirius a guilty look as you do what you’re told, going into the kitchen where Remus is opening your taped-up boxes with a butter knife. 
“Best to stay out of their way,” he advises you. “Jamie will fully let go of that dresser before he lets you near it, and we’ve got a busy enough day ahead of us without taking Sirius to A&E.” 
You grin. “Too true.”
Remus makes a funny cooing sound as he pulls your heart-shaped measuring cups out of a box. “Oh, these are precious.” His bottom lip curls softly. “Is it odd that this feels sort of like opening gifts? Do you have a zester? I’ve been pining after a zester for months.” 
“I do,” you say, somewhat giddy at the prospect of having your things amongst theirs. “It’s in the other box, though.” 
“Fuck, it’s like Christmas.” Remus tears into that box, leaving you to the first. 
It helps that you already have a sense of where things go in the boys’ flat, having stayed here many nights over several months before they’d asked you to move in. You grab the next thing out of your box and reach for the cabinet behind Remus, minding his head as you open it, and look for an empty space on the top shelf. 
“Oh.” The word drops limply from your lips.
“Hm?” 
“You already have a blender.” 
“Yeah, Jamie’d never get by without one,” says Remus with a fond eye roll. “He all but lives on those protein smoothies.” 
“Right. Yeah, I forgot.” 
“You can put yours in there next to it, love.” He looks at you over his shoulder, a slight bemusement in his expression at your dispirited tone. “He leaves that thing dirty in the sink all the time, it’ll be nice to have a backup.” 
“Okay.” You slot yours in beside it, but your eyes fall to the neat stacks of plates and bowls on the shelf below them. Somewhere in the bottom of one of these boxes, you have your own plates and bowls, mismatched and collected from different stores over time. These ones are uniform, a matched set. “Do you think my dishes will go okay in here?” 
“What do you mean?” Remus turns around, following your gaze to the cabinet. “We’ve got plenty of room.” 
“I know, but…” But with your dishes added onto theirs, they’ll be stacked nearly to the top of the shelf. More than anyone needs. “You all picked yours out together, and mine don’t match. I don’t want to add things you don’t like.” 
“You won’t be.” Seeming to sense you need it, he wraps his arms around your shoulders, standing with your back to his front. “Darling, we picked out these dishes because when we moved in here, all three of us had only been using paper plates. It wasn’t a big decision, we just needed to feel like adults.” You can hear his smile close to your ear. “Don’t worry about matching, alright?” 
“Alright,” you say, sinking into his hold, but your mind is already cataloging every way you could be intruding. 
Your glasses won’t go with theirs either, and neither will your pots and pans. The cabinets will be full to bursting. By the window, their little kitchen table has three chairs. The couch in the living room is only big enough to fit three, the armchair they’d bought to accommodate you when you started coming over regularly sitting off to the side. Separate. 
“Hey,” says James, popping into the kitchen. You’re partway through unloading your kitchen things, your guilt mounting with every overstocked shelf. “Do you want to come tell us where you’d like your dresser? We’re having some trouble, it’s a bit of a tight fit.” 
“Yeah,” you say weakly, following him down the hall. Remus, the unofficial master of logistics, comes behind you. 
In the bedroom, Sirius is trying to jam your dresser in between a nightstand and the wall, shoving it with his shoulder and threatening to take off the paint in the process. 
“Stop!” you and Remus say in unison, him rushing forward to grab Sirius while you hang back, open-mouthed. 
“You’re scuffing the wall,” Remus tells Sirius, not unkindly. “Don’t try to make it fit if it doesn’t, love.” 
The words ring around in your head, an omen. 
“I don’t need it,” you say. All three boys turn to look at you, various degrees of befuddled. “It doesn’t fit, it’s fine. I can get rid of it.” 
“It’ll fit,” says Sirius. “We’ve hardly tried yet.” 
“Angel, you love that dresser.” James looks like a confused puppy, clearly having caught onto the fact that something’s wrong but unsure what it is.
You shrug, trying to look nonchalant. You do love it, truthfully. It’s been with you since you moved into your first place, collecting tiny scratches and absorbing the coalescent scent of the candles you keep in the top drawer. It’s been the hallmark of every home that’s ever been your own, but this place isn’t just yours. Your boyfriends are already doing a lot by sharing their space with you, and you don’t want to be more trouble than you’re worth. 
“It doesn’t fit,” you say simply. “It’s okay.” 
“We can put it right there,” Remus says. The three of you turn, and there is a wall by the door, entirely blank. You’d completely forgotten about it. 
“Perfect. Genius, Rem.” James beams at Remus, his expression gentling when he looks back at you. “Okay, lovely?” 
“Yeah, thanks.” You smile weakly. Sirius makes a tsking sound, regarding you through narrowed eyes. 
“You’re being weird. Spill.” 
You shrug again, arms wrapping around your middle of their own volition. “I just didn’t think about how much stuff I have until now,” you admit. “You guys already have everything perfect in here, I don’t just want to…cram my stuff in when it’s already the way you like it. I don’t know, it…” You study the floorboards, unable to look at any of them. “It feels like I’m butting in a bit.” 
For a thick, dreadful moment, the boys are silent. 
“We want you to have your things here,” Remus says softly,  “because we want you here, dove.” 
“Alright, let’s not act as though that was ever in question.” Sirius shoots you a smile, dimming a bit when you look at him sheepishly. “Sweetheart, obviously we want you here. Why would we have asked you to move in if we didn’t?”
You nibble the inside of your cheek. “It’s okay if you’ve changed your minds. You guys work together so well already.” 
“We work together with you even better.” James comes up behind you, wrapping you up in a hug like he’s unable to help himself. He sets his lips on your shoulder, words buzzing against your skin. “It wouldn’t feel right if you were here and none of your stuff was. There’s plenty of room, but if in some places there’s not then we’ll make room. We want you here, okay?” 
You nod, trying to make yourself believe it. 
“Let’s have a break,” Remus suggests. “There’s lemonade in the fridge.” 
“Yes please.” Sirius is quickly onboard. “I can feel the soreness coming on already; my muscles have never been so terribly abused. I’m going to need a massage tonight, definitely.” 
“I’ll do it,” you offer. James keeps you tucked under his arm as you all start back down the hall. “Seems like the least I can do.” 
“In that case, I think my thighs are taking the brunt of it. Better pay the most attention to those, sweetness.” 
“These are privileges which you shall have from this night onward,” says James, mashing a kiss into your hair. “Welcome home, angel.” 
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penvisions · 9 days
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stages of devotion {away from the city}
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Pairing: Tired Dad! Joel Miller x Experienced Camper! Reader
Summary: The neighboring campsite hosts a tired dad who seems to be ill-equipped for what he openly admits was a rather impromptu getaway with his teenage daughter. Thankfully, you keep extra supplies in your hatchback and are willing to share.
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: canon typical language, cussing, brief mention of bleeding injury, sexual tension, pining, mutual pining, fluffiness, super soft yearning, sexual content, adult content, piv, fingering, dirty talk, pet names, depraved descriptions of the male body, just a light little piece for me!
A/N: hoping this isn't as lame as it seems in my head. imposter syndrome is flaring, y'all
ao3 link || series masterlist || navigation || ko-fi
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“God dammit.” A deep, gravely voice solemnly murmurs from the next site over. Slightly muffled from inside the tent the broad-shouldered man had dipped into shortly after pulling into the parking spot in a dark blue trunk. He had managed to get it pitched in a miraculously short amount of time despite the giggling and bouncing teen tangling the guy lines and rucking up the corners of the tarp underneath.
“Everything okay, dad?” The teen in question asked as she popped up from the cooler she was digging around in, a can of soda in her grip.
“…yeah, everything’s good, baby girl.” She glanced over at you with a roll of her eyes, not believing him for a second and needing someone to share in the moment. Before she could call him on the obvious lie, a loud hissing sound ruffled the side of the tent, billowing it out in a rather funny way.
Trying to keep your laughter low to avoid attention, you got up from your spot tending to the flames of your fire, foiled single use pan over the grill plate of the pit. A casserole you had parbaked last night in preparation for today. It was a broccoli cheddar one, the noodles and chicken beginning to season the air along with the crackling pine offered for visitors at the general store at the entrance to the park. The trunk of your SUV was silent as you lifted it and scanned the supplies you had stocked up in the space.
The spare air mattress you kept was on the smaller side, but it didn’t hurt to offer it to the little father and daughter duo. You pulled the fabric of your hiking shorts down a little, to cover up the bandage over a cut you had gotten earlier that afternoon on a hike before gripping the box and walked over to the edge of your site.
“Excuse me, sir?”
“Uh, give me sec!”
“Sir?” You walked over the invisible line between yours and theirs, aware of the girl now fiddling with a small MP3 player, wired earbuds already popped into her ears beneath a mane of kinky hair pulled back into low buns at the back of her head. “I’ve got an extra mattress if yours has holes in it.”
“Huh?” His head appears in the opening of the tent, dark curls tousled and slightly damp with sweat. His brown eyes were wide, his plush lips parted underneath a thick moustache. He was on his knees, prompting you to look down as you approached the tent. He looked up at you through his hooded eyes and you swore your heart jumped in your chest. He had crows’ feet at the edges of them, those and the deep wrinkle in his brow adding to his appeal.
“This is my spare, you’re more than welcome to borrow it.”
His eyes flicked behind you, gauging where his daughter was and why he hadn’t heard an interaction from her before you appeared before him with a gift in your hand and kind words on your lips. She knew how to hold her own, but he still worried for her because the world could be cruel. Her music was a low hum even from here, telling him she was gone from his world for the meantime, social battery probably low or even just a bit bored with him out here in the middle of the state park while he set things up.
“Uh, thanks. Who’re-“
“I’m from just over there,” You lean back a little to wave to the left. He had seen the hatchback parked there all day but hadn’t seen the camper until just now. You must’ve snuck back into the grounds from a mid-morning hike that begins off the campgrounds or a nap you were possibly taking in your rather clean tent. He felt self-conscious at the way he was looking up at you with wide eyes, the dirt and dust that coated everything from his cooler to his own truck to the tent he was currently kneeling in. The trip was last minute, but it just reminds him of how much better he needs to be about upkeep in his own home and garage. The truck he could get away with, but he didn’t want to bring his work home with him more than he already did. “We’re campsite neighbors.”
“Mighty nice of ya, think mine has a leak somewhere.” The admittance is easy from his lips, shocking you in its honesty. The last time you had tried to offer similar help, you had been shot down and denied a chance. Told you didn’t know what you were talking about and that the person who had been having trouble knew more than you did, that you should mind your own business. Shaking the bad memory and relationship from your mind, you offer a polite smile and lean over a little to peer into the space around the man eclipsing the entrance.
“Mind if I take a look?” You set down the rather hefty box containing the spare bed and lean down to unhinge the ankle strap on your campsite sandals. It may be a little forward of you, but he seemed willing to discuss the issue, and you wanted to help any way you could. When he doesn’t protest, still gazing up at you with that doe eyed expression, you step into the rather dusty interior. The mattress is in the center of the back wall, the foot end of it facing toward your campsite. You crouch down to inspect the area around the boston valve. Just as you reached out a hand to feel around the base of it, you felt heat at your right side.
“’s over on the other side, I think.” The man’s voice was close, the baritone of it vibrating through you as you turned your own curious expression over to him. He seems to have composed himself, as he shuffles close to you, nearly pressing his broad chest into your side to motion to the left side of bed. The near contact makes you jolt, the way he had almost unconsciously fallen into your personal space. Not having been so close to anyone in recent memory makes the moment into more than it is on the surface, and you try not to let it get to your head. Just a friendly interaction, that’s all.
“Apologies,” He’s moving away just as suddenly as he had appeared beside you, leaving your heart racing in your chest so loud you hope he can’t hear it within the confines of the nylon enclosure. You can’t tell with the bright afternoon sunlight, if there’s a tinge to the tops of his ears and the back of his neck. But you’re pretty sure if there is one it’s because of his embarrassment of the thoughtless act and nothing more. A simple accident of invading a stranger’s space and nothing more.
He’s just a stranger who needed a bit of help, nothing more. Tamping down the runaway thoughts of the man and how calming his presence is even with just a few moments of interacting with him, you focus on the task at hand.
After a few moments of fiddling with the valve and ensuring its secure, you have him press down the palms of his hands on the top of the mattress as you scoot it out to feel where the air is leaking from.
There’s a slit in the groove that helps to support the weight of whoever lays atop it, barely visible.
“Ah, yeah. It’s here.” You switch places with him and he sees what you’re talking about.
“Shit,” He’s rubbing a hand over the dark scruff on his chin, dragged down the column of his neck as he realizes it’s not even a hole but a tear. A mighty long one that he’s incapable of fixing out here with no duct tape or putty.
“No worries, you can use the spare I brought over.” Standing up, you clap your hands to rid them of the dust that you had gathered on them. Doing the same with your knees, you glance around the space and realize how small it is. “Is this the only tent you brought?”
“No, uh, Sarah – my girl out there,” Joel is hunched over, the inside of the tent not tall enough for him to stand at his full height, he’s following your form as you exit, taking the offered box that contains the solution to his current problem. “This one’s hers. Gotta get mine set up. Was just gonna give her mine if hers was damaged. Saved me the pain of sleeping on the ground.”
“I’ve got a small handheld vacuum, if you want to get the dust cleared up for her.” You offer with a slight smile, the small worry of overstepping making you self-conscious. “Just…if you want to.”
He pauses as he places the box beside the slowly deflating bed he had tried to set up. His eyes catch yours and you see something flash in them.
“’m not normally this unprepared, but she was…well, she was havin’ a bad week so we packed up after school and just hit the road.”
“Hey, no worries at all! I totally get needing to get away sometimes. That’s why I have enough to offer you my spare. Keep a bit in the car, a bit in the garage. Kinda ready to go whenever I feel the need.”
“It’s much appreciated.” His own lips twist up and you feel butterflies between your ribs. He’s effortlessly handsome, his chocolate curls mused and his face showing the years he’s spent raising his daughter and no doubt working hard to do it.
“I’ll just go grab that real quick then, leave you to finish setting up.” You crook your elbow and point back to your own campsite, but your feet stick to the ground when you see Joel crouched back down on the ground in his simple tee and jeans. His biceps flex with the way he begins to roll the remaining air out of the no-good mattress, catching your attention like a cat to a sunbeam.
“You’re an angel, can’t believe we lucked out with such a cool neighbor.” Joel chuckles to himself as he works, unaware of your watching gaze. “Last time we had this older couple that didn’t believe she was mine. Kept asking if she was okay or needed any help.”
“S-Sounds like a nightmare.” The lump that appears in your throat sticks even after you attempt to swallow it down. You couldn’t imagine the stress that caused, even if just fleetingly. They were obviously bonded, their easy temperance with each other speaking volumes for those around.
“Much better this time around, despite the faulty mattress.” He looks up once it’s rolled up and secured with velcro ties. His smile is brighter, reaching his eyes in a way that makes them sparkle. “Name’s Joel, and the tone-deaf teenager out there is Sarah.”
You look over your shoulder at the dancing, twirling teenager. She’s still got her music playing a touch too loud, her lips mouthing along to most of the words. Some of them she sings aloud, and it’s…it is rather tone-deaf. But it brings a smile to your face all the same, she’s allowed to feel like she can be herself around her father. That’s an impressive feat, that they seem so close with no underlying awkwardness or feelings of insecurity.
Turning back to him, you offer your own introduction.  
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The sounds of Joel finishing setting up his campsite fill the air but aren’t bothersome. Just a part of the afternoon that grows into the evening. Others showing up as well, the sound of rubber mallets securing tent spikes in the soft ground, of vinyl and tarp being stretched out and shifted into place, of grills being filled with charcoal and the sizzling of food as it hits the hot grates. Laughter and soft conversations float through the air amid the gentle breeze and you sigh as you sit down at your table with a bowl of the casserole that had finished cooking.
The peaceful reverie is enhanced by the infectious giggling of Sarah, the teenage girl just over the invisible line between the campsites. Joel’s own carefree laughter making your chest feel light. They’ve got their stuff all set up, the propane grill Joel brought working hard as he cooks what looks like too much food for just the two of them. But they both load their plates up and settled at their picnic table with freshly opened drinks from the cooler.
You feel the look before it registers, so caught up in the book gripped between your hands. It’s been on your list for far too long, a few pages read here and there throughout your hectic day, before bed as you try to wind down but end up passing out with it flattened on your chest. But now, the reading seems to be disrupted in the form of Joel. He’s at the edge of your space, calling out your name.
An offer for food if you wanted some, that there was a little bit of everything and plenty of it if you cared to join them. With no thought for the passage you had just been immersed in, you close the book and leave it in the seat of your camp chair. The vinyl hushes with the wight of the paper but you pay it no mind as you ask after what all he’s got and pick up a fresh beer from your cooler.
Easy conversation flowed and soon your laughter rung in the air alongside theirs.
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Sarah had gone to bed after a bit of gentle prodding from Joel. Her head had bobbed a few times, trying her hardest to stay up despite her fluttering eyes and deep breaths as she sat in front of the dwindling fire alongside you both.
They hadn’t been able to get one going in their own pit, too much debris left behind from the previous inhabitants. So yours had been stoked and kept alive for hours now as night fell. Their chairs had been effortlessly moved beside yours, surrounding the once roaring warmth, something you hadn’t minded in the slightest. He’s walking back up to now, hands in his pockets and a flannel added over his tee. He looks so cozy, so at home now that he’s gotten settled.
He sighs heavily as he plops back down in the chair beside your own, scooting it closer now that you’re alone. You can smell the lingering scent of his cologne on the new addition of clothing and it has you unconsciously leaning into his space.
“Mm, you smell good.”
“Thanks, darlin’. You smell mighty good yourself.” He’s smirking when your eyes snap up at the realization that you just said that out loud.
“Oh my god, I am so sorry. I didn’t-“
“’s okay. But I’ve been wonderin’ something.” His tone tilts, pitches low as he regards the fire that’s more smoldering ashes than flames in the pit. The shadows cast over his profile take your breath away, make your heart ache for how beautiful he is. He’s a good man, if your evening together was anything to go by.
A devoted father, a caring family man, a capable man who worked himself perhaps too much sometimes.
“Y-yeah?” You feel the air shift, something sparking between you two now that you’re alone. You wonder if he’s about to tell you his wife is back home waiting for their return, if he’s going to ask you why you keep stealing ogling glances his way. If he’s going to reveal to you that he’s onto you and doesn’t like the attention. But his question is exactly what you wanted to hear, because you have the exact same one for him.
“You got anyone waitin’ for you back home?” Joel’s voice is even, despite the way one of his hands is tapping away at the armrest of his chair. The empty beer in his mesh cupholder sweating and the label is peeled off. It’s endearing to see his quirks, the man rather enticing despite only knowing him for a few hours. Your heart skipped a beat, butterflies tickling your insides as you realized he may be as attracted to you as you are to him. Unless he was just making polite conversation now that it was just the two of you…
“Like a boyfriend?” You dare to ask, seeking clarification. Feeling the slight charge in the air is making you a little dizzy, the looks you had caught him giving you when you were busy helping Sarah with her smores only making you feel even more so as you recall the way his eyes had shown in the amber firelight. You lean toward him, finding that he had done the same. There are only a few inches between you now, elbows crooked and bodies curved toward each other. You try to disguise your surprise, but you’re sure he can see in as his lips quick up on one side.
“Like a boyfriend.” His breath is so warm as it puffs against your lips. He’s so, impossibly close and it wouldn’t take but a tilt of your head to close the gap.
“Oh.” Your eyes search between his own, looking for something behind them. Finding no ill intent, no underlying darkness. There’s only hope flickering there, shielding the loneliness you can sense in him, the same that you mask in your own life. You feel your lips pull up into a teasing smile as you glance down at his plush lips. “No.”
“Good.” And he’s closing the gap. Hands coming up to cradle your face and nose brushing against yours as his lips capture yours.
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The next morning, you’re packing up the remainder of your stuff as quietly as possible. The sun has yet to rise, the sky barely beginning to lighten on the horizon. Joel is snoring just loudly enough that you can pick up the sound coming from inside his tent. You don’t want to bother him, seeing as he’s resting after a rather long night. You feel the ghost of his lips against yours, the way they had dragged down your throat, your collarbone, lower still beneath your shoved off flannel and rucked up tank top.
“Don’t normally do this kinda thing.” He groaned into your skin as his exploring fingers undid the small tie at the front of your shorts. The thickness of them as they hooked in the waistband and pulled made you dizzy, made your body clench around nothing at the heady thought of them delving lower.
“What? Make out with strangers?” You huff a giddy laugh that turns into a choked whimper as his knuckles graze between your legs, feeling the dampness there. He presses close, and you feel the pressure of his hand against your swollen lips, can feel the way he slowly parts them with gentle movements. Fingertips find your sensitive bud and your body glitters, eyes fluttering shut.
“Make out with anyone. Been so focused on other stuff.”
“Focus on me then, just for now.” You whisper as you reach for him, guiding his face back up to yours and kissing him deeply. He swallows the moan that bursts from your chest as his fingers find your fluttering entrance. He’s knuckle deep and crooking them before you can catch your breath. It hitches, leaves you and causes you to break away from him when they nudge a spot just right, lighting up your body in a way it hadn’t been in ages.
“That’s the spot, huh darlin’?” He thrusts his fingers in a slow, deep rhythm. Feeling your soft walls clench around him, the jolt to your body and the arching of your back telling him he’s found exactly the right spot. “C’mon, you feel so damn good. Lemme see how pretty you are.”
Through a heavy-lidded gaze, you see him hovering above you. His outline stark in the glow of the string lights strung up around your campsite. His brown eyes are glittering and blown wide, his lips are parted and panting for breath, chest dusted with the same dark hair atop his head. When had he even taken his shirt off? It doesn’t matter, you lose the thought as your hands begin to explore his chest. Nails raking lightly down his pecs and toward the softness of his belly. Belt unbuckled and pants undone, but still secure around his waist.
Heat encompasses you, your body alight as he beckons you closer and closer to the edge. You fall with a cry of his name when he leans down to nip at your breast, nipple taut between his teeth. He guides you through it, fingers dragging it out before he gently removes them from your fluttering core and twitching clit.
“That’s a pretty sight indeed, darlin’.” He kisses your temple, your cheeks, your forehead. A grunt of surprise falls from him when you surge up and wrap your arms around his neck and use your feet to push his jeans off. His rumbling laughter fills the dark space as he quickly pushes them off all the way and kicks them off the bed. “Gonna let me have you, sweet girl, gonna let me feel you come on my cock?”
“Fuck, Joel, yes, please.” You rut against him as his erection bobs up toward his stomach, needing more, needing to feel him. This safe, beautiful stranger you hadn’t known existed until today. He was intoxicating. The hot, long line of him hard where you grind against the underside of him. He groans a deep, guttural sound at the feeling, the slick of your swollen lips and the beads of precum falling from his tip making for such an easy glide.
His hand snakes down to guide himself a little lower, eliciting a cry from you when his head rubs roughly over your clit.
“Shh, shh, gotta be quiet now, don’t wanna wake the whole campground, do we?” He’s watching your face twist in pleasure, the way your bottom lip plumps between teeth as you try to quiet yourself. He tries to muffle his own loud moan when he finally pushes in. Everything stills for the barest of moments, eyes meeting and breath hitching. Before he’s snapping his hips against yours, bending over you to lift a leg over his shoulder and his teeth grit as he tries to keep his sounds restrained.
You’re lost to the feeling of his body moving against yours, moving inside yours. He’s filling you so deeply, hitting that spot you didn’t believe any guy could find and it’s making your vision sparkle bright white.’
Your face heats as you recall the way he had desperately asked ‘where’ in that gravely twang of his. The feeling of him still filling you, dampening your underwear as he dribbled out a little bit at a time. It had been rather risky a move, but the pills you took everyday would help prevent any…mishaps with the handsome man you hadn’t expected to meet on your own impromptu excursion from the city.
Austin.
He was from there too and something compelled you to write your name and number on a blank page of your small notepad. A little note saying to call you for a coffee sometime because it had been nice to talk to him and his daughter. You left the remainder of the casserole in the tin and secured the crumpled foil over it before cautiously lifting the lid to their large cooler. Thankfully there was space for the extra food, they would need it with their additional night in the park.
But you needed to go, real life responsibilities calling your name back from the slice of reprieve you had sought out.
Picking up the packed tent, the handles rough in your hand like Joel’s calloused palms, you looked the campsite over one last time. Everything was packed now, the city beckoning you back though this camping trip had provided you with something you hadn’t had a taste of in a long time.
Hope.
next part
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hiraethwrote · 21 days
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there's a lightness in him
summary: finally, the day has come where you get the chance to meet gojo. but megumi doesn't handle it as well as you had hoped
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[ loner!megumi x popular!reader ]
cw: college au, modern au, f!reader, fluff, gojo cameo, some angst, aged up characters, no use of y/n
word count: 2.9k
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You really wanted to meet Gojo.
For reasons unknown to you, Megumi became even more quiet than usual whenever he was brought up — nearly blatantly refusing to talk about him at all.
Your curiosity was obviously peaked — who was this mysterious individual, who through unfortunate circumstances had ended up basically raising what had turned out to be your perfect boyfriend? Was this where Megumi had gotten his closed off demeanour from? Were shared dinners around the dining table spent in utter silence?
The few things you had gathered about Gojo: he was NOT Megumi’s dad. That was the most important thing you’d learned. Because how dumb were you when you simply assumed the adult man he lived with was his father?
You had also learned that there was a new level to Megumi’s frown that always grew deeper whenever he talked to Gojo on the phone. Granted, he was never happy whenever he was on the phone, but it was something entirely different when he talked to his… guardian?
“What do you mean you haven’t met his family?!” Kasumi exclaimed in pure disbelief once you told her, head tilting up from her doomscrolling.
“As far as I understand, there isn’t much family to meet. It’s mostly just this Gojo figure.”
“And that’s his dad?”
“God no, he’ll bite your head off if you assume so, but whoever he is, he’s the closest thing he has to a parental figure.”
She tried to blink away the worst of her surprise. “But you’ve been together since high school.” It seemed like she wanted the statement to be a question, but it definitely came out more as a judgemental remark.
“Look, his family situation isn’t ideal,” you trailed off, thinking about the few things he had actually opened up to you about — both his sister and his absent father, and you had quickly understood family was a fragile topic for him. So whenever you dared approach the situation about Gojo, you just wanted to be cautious in case there was anything serious he just did not want to talk about.
However, lately, the idea of anything seriously worrisome being the issue had slowly ceased to exist. Megumi genuinely only seemed to be annoyed with whatever it was Gojo said or did — nothing graver than that.
“Does that mean you’ve never been to his house?” Yet another shocked question fired at you.
“No, I’ve been to his house plenty of times,” you chuckled. “It just so happens that Gojo is never home. He’s apparently sent out of town a lot for work.”
She quirked an eyebrow, shaking her head and turning her attention back to her phone. “Your boyfriend is kind of a weirdo, not gonna lie.”
A small, smitten smile automatically grew on your lips. “Yeah, I guess he is,” you said, probably mostly to yourself.
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“I have to go now.”
“What, already?” You whined, bottom lip sticking out in a dramatic pout as Megumi got up from his seat beside you. He met your pleading gaze, leaning forward to capture your lips in a tender kiss to ease his departure.
“It’s probably gonna take a while today,” he sighed, walking over to the door. Before his hand had even managed to clasp around the handle, you were already at his side, staring at him with doe eyes while your arms were tucked behind your back — like you always did when you wanted something.
“Then why don’t I come along?” batting your eyelashes at him.
Whatever your ulterior motive was, he was weak for the look you gave him — sucking in his cheeks to smother the smirk you were slowly pulling from him.
“You wanna come along?”
“I wanna be with you as much as possible!”
“You gonna help with errands, too?”
Your innocent smile was pushed into pursed lips instead. “I can watch?”
He instantly let out a taunting scoff. “Cute,” he sighed, placing a quick kiss on your cheek and opening the door to leave. Before he got too far, you already grabbed ahold of his wrist.
“So, you’re going home for these errands, right?”
And once you said ‘home’, Megumi immediately understood why you had suddenly decided to be so persistent in tagging along for his duties, when you always preferred he just get it over with so he could return to you once he was done.
And his body slowly started to tense up, because unlike you, Megumi really did not want you to meet Gojo.
Why? Well, Megumi could list hundreds of reasons why he wanted to shield you from the menace he had lived with most his life. But he knew those reasons were all superficial, and he never really dared put into words what really plagued him about the situation.
“Megumi,” you spoke his name softly, slowly letting go of his wrist. “I want to meet your family.”
There it was again, your genuine interest in him — somehow always catching him off guard despite you proving it to him from the very first moment. He just didn’t feel deserving of it.
It was written all over your features just how important this was to you — guilt striking him as he couldn’t understand why he had been so selfish as to deprive you of meeting his family, when he had no real reason to.
But what wasn’t he willing to do for you? With a clear of his throat, he tried to set aside his ever present anxiety about the situation, grumbling a low “fine” as he pulled out his phone to send a quick heads up to Gojo.
“Wait, really?” The fragile sentiment in your voice was replaced by an airy relief, not quite expecting him to surrender so easily — especially considering how long you’d bothered him about it all.
“Has to happen eventually, right? Might as well get it over with.”
The nonchalant shrug of his shoulders and the look in his eyes was all it took for you to feel your stomach tickle with butterflies — you saw he was trying to power through his stubbornness for you. He wasn't going to let his own struggles triumph how important this was for you.
“You’re just so-“ endless giddiness spilling over in your expression, unable to finish your sentence. You cupped his face and placed the sweetest kiss on his cheek, before you rather abruptly interrupted your own actions by yanking him after you towards his car.
For the entirety of the ride, you held a mostly one sided conversation, hoping your casual talk would calm him down — but it didn’t stop his knuckles from slowly turning paler when his fingers gnawed at the steering wheel, hoping you didn’t catch how his teeth were grinding against each other.
But he wanted to try — for you.
Pulling into the driveway, surrounded by the familiar scenery of the neighbourhood he grew up in, none of his nerves seemed to disintegrate. Even when he opened the door for you (like he always did) and you laced your fingers with his, the nerves remained knotted inside him.
“If you really don’t want to do this-“
“No, ‘s fine,” he interrupted you softly, reactively squeezing your hand to ground himself. “Let’s just get-“
A blaring voice shouting your name cut through the sad tension, both you and Megumi jumping at the sudden outburst.
Capturing your wide eyed glare, you were met with a freakishly tall man staring directly at you with the most intense blue-eyed stare one could imagine and untamed hair of the purest white — and lastly, a somewhat off putting grin that was overflowing with outgoing charm.
This was Gojo? The Gojo? The very same who had raised your stoic and quiet boyfriend? The one who seemed to have too much pent up energy in his body, despite the size of it? This was not at all what you had expected.
You were about to take a polite bow to introduce yourself, but Gojo simply waved his hand. “No need for formalities. Feel like I know you already.” His smile never wavered, even when he took a step back to let you in.
Megumi was already grumbling to himself, unable to stop how his fingers clenched harder on your hand as a reaction to Gojo’s first appearance — and heat was rising up his neck, slowly colouring the tips of his ears red with embarrassment.
“So glad you finally managed to convince him,” Gojo nearly sung, leading all three of you into the kitchen. “I’ve tried desperately since that day he first visited you. But Megumi never listens to me.”
He was so far from the character you had created in your mind, taking some time let the new impression replace the old one. He leaned so casually against the kitchen counter, while Megumi acted on instinct and pulled out the stool for you, taking a seat next to you.
“I couldn’t quite believe my eyes when he came back home that evening, and he smiled. You know how hard I try to make him smile?”
“Oh, it’s not so hard,” you laughed along, turning to look at your boyfriend only to see he was looking at Gojo with chronically furrowed eyebrows. The lump in your stomach formed immediately, hating just how displeased Megumi appeared to be — reaching out to grab his hand under the table, head turning to look at you, smoothing the crinkles on his forehead. You started to believe he wasn’t even aware of the way he was looking at Gojo, because all evidence of annoyance was gone when he shifted his eyes towards you. “He smiles plenty.”
“Hmpf,” Gojo pouted, arms crossing loosely over his chest. “Well, maybe you just share the same bad sense of humor.” The comment caught you a little by surprise before the genuine laugh slipped past your lips, while Megumi went back to shooting him an ugly scowl.
“I’ve been wanting to meet you too for a while.”
“Is that so?” His tone sounded accusatory as he met Megumi’s eyes. It didn’t take a genius to understand the subtext that Megumi had served him excuse after excuse on why he’d never introduced you.
“Yes, but my schedule is crazy busy,” the lie rolling of your tongue so easily, Megumi almost believing it himself. “Something always came up whenever we tried to make it happen.” It was a small gesture, yet Megumi’s heart fluttered lightly at how you tried to make this as comfortable as possible for him.
“I’m very pleased you finally got the time,” he beamed, seemingly buying into the lie.
And then the conversation flowed as smoothly as butter. He asked questions about your studies and your family, showing a real interest in your life. And he was funny — the clutching-your-stomach type of funny. You didn’t even notice when Kuro and Shiro walked into the kitchen, Shiro lightly nudging your hand for pets before both of the dogs laid down by Megumi’s feet.
But the conversation consisted mostly of your and Gojo’s voice, Megumi only contributing with a weak “hm” or “sure” whenever fitting, which definitely put a thorn in the atmosphere of the company.
“How about we get around to those errands?” You suggested, bringing an end to the constant rambling you knew Megumi had probably prayed would stop.
“Yeah, we probably should,” he mumbled lowly, quickly jumping out of the seat he had been glued to since you arrived. “I just have to get something upstairs-“
“Just go,” you giggled, knowing he was about to ask if you were alright with being left alone for a second.
Megumi hurried away, leaving you and Gojo alone. It didn’t take long before he broke the silence again.
“He’s not usually this cold towards me.” His tone had completely changed, now full of sentiment, one you could only assume came from genuine love for Megumi. “It doesn’t look like it, but I’m sure he secretly likes me. The death glares are at least kept to a minimum when it’s just the two of us.”
“He has a tendency to be a little cranky.” He smiled then, a small and almost shy smile.
“I’m going to make this quick, because he’ll be back down any second,” he took a deep breath as he straightened his posture. “After you came along… I’ve never seen him like this.” Your breath hitched in your throat at the slightly ominous statement. “There’s a lightness in him I’ve never seen before. You clearly mean a lot to him, which is why he exaggerates his frown. He’s just being protective.”
With further clarification, your shoulders found rest, starting to shuffle towards the front door, Gojo close behind. “Believe it or not, he brings me lightness too.”
“No, I believe it,” he smiled as Megumi came down the stairs, both of his dogs following him. “I see it in you too.”
“Ready to go?” Megumi asked in a monotone voice, already having put on his shoes and opened the door.
“It was nice meeting you, Gojo,” you bowed.
“Looking forward to the next time.” Megumi didn’t manage to fully conceal the quiet groan that escaped him, both you and Gojo deciding to not pay it any attention.
“I’ll be back in a few days,” Megumi sighed, already halfway down the pathway, simply waving goodbye over his shoulder.
“I’ll miss you!” Gojo yelled dramatically after him, your boyfriend never sparing him a second glance. While he opened the car door for you, you decided to pay Gojo the decency of a smile and a tiny wave.
Megumi did not hesitate to start the engine, his childhood home quickly disappearing behind you.
Then silence hit — thick silence, nearly suffocating on all the thoughts you could so clearly tell was swarming Megumi’s mind.
“I like him,” you breathed, leaning back on the headrest.
“Yeah? I’m glad.”
“You don’t sound glad.”
“Sorry.”
His eyes were glued ahead, as if there was nothing more interesting than the boring scenery and the asphalt going straight ahead.
“Megumi?”
“Hmm?”
“Why didn’t you want me to meet Gojo?”
He didn’t answer — he only let out a deep breath through his nose which you suspected had been trapped in his lungs since the moment you first pulled up in his driveway. Then he pulled over, the car slowly rolling to a halt.
Your pulse quickened, eyeing how his hands had left the steering wheel only for him to pick at the skin around his nails — a nervous tick you only saw him do when he was extremely anxious.
“I don’t want to mess this up.”
His confession was quiet, and had it not been for the fact that there was not a sound in the car or any distractions outside, you would not have been able to hear it.
“Meeting family… it brings expectations. And if I am to mess this up-“
“Don’t say that, you’re not going to mess this up!” You cut him off, hands cutting through the air to intertwine your fingers with his, stopping his bad habit.
“You don’t know that.” His voice still came out low, eyes directed at your hands. “After last time-“
“Stop it,” you interrupted again, bringing one hand to his face to force him to look at you, breaking your heart when his eyes had turned glossy. “We’re past that now, okay?”
“I know we are, it’s just-“ he took another deep breath, “for some reason, I just felt like that if I kept you from meeting him, I could contain the damage and disappointment if I were to screw it up.”
“I didn’t know you felt this way,” you sniffled quietly, fighting not to let the tears take over. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know,” he averted his gaze again, back to fixating on his lap. “Scared, I suppose.”
“You’re not in this alone. You can always talk to me about these things, okay?”
“Mhmm,” the weak sound was barely heard.
Once again you cupped his face, wanting his eyes on you when you said “I’m on your team, Megumi.” His nostrils flared, not wanting the tears to spill. “Please just let me be on your team!”
Yet again he took another deep breath to steady himself, slowly beginning to nod along before leaning into your touch. “Okay,” he whispered.
He didn’t say it, but you could sense how he had actively reached within himself to fint sparks of confidence to give himself over to your request.
Megumi was just used to doing things on his own, never depending on anyone but himself. And up until he met you, that had worked perfectly fine. But faced with a relationship, he had found himself between a rock and a hard place, where exposing himself emotionally to another human being was necessary for it to work — and you were worth every ounce of dedication. Every other aspect of his life had turned miniscule in comparison to you.
He hadn’t exactly made it easy for you to cooperate when it came to his feelings. But that stopped now, fully surrendering to the fragility one could not avoid in a relationship. He knew you’d be there.
“You want me to drive?”
“No, it’s fine,” he sighed, the evidence of tears gone as he sat back up in his seat. He removed your hand from his face to place a soft kiss on your knuckles.
“You’re not still going to run errands, are you?” Your pulse finally started to calm down when you spotted a small smirk lurking at the corner of his lips.
“Not a chance.”
“My place and order in?”
“Sounds perfect.”
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tags (taglist is open)
@sad-darksoul @nyahctrl @ssetsuka @aceakariii @chxlexauriana
@ps-forgetmenot @thejujvtsupost @acowboykisser @rixo-19
@aestheticallyvini @iheartlinds @rory-cakes @tiffanyandrson
a/n okay idk what's happening but i'm not quite vibing with my writing lately... words aren't wording iykwim... however, did yall catch me teasing some angst in here tihi?? look forward to that
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jjenthusee · 2 months
Text
Handshakes And Trash Cans
Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader
a/n: simply, i wrote a lot and i didn’t wanna release it in parts, so i squeezed the entire fic here. I’ve been having fun writing small excerpts and then they turn into full fics. Jason deserves all the love, so i focused on a neighbors to lovers? No mention of vigilante stuff, but tons of domesticity. With some mentions of big brother Dick (i’m a firm believer that he’s the number one supporter of Jason and just wants the best for him), a bit of steaminess if u squint, and a very devoted Jason. leave me any comments if your comfortable sharing because i wanna know what u guys think XD and if you were crying screaming sliding down the wall like i was (also despite me still being in my repenting era, i wanted to release this as an early apology cause i wanna write another angsty drabble so maybe…maybe not look forward to that) ENJOY (link to the work before this one here)
word count: 7.1k
tags: pining, tons of fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, heartfelt confessions, big brother dick shenanigans
When you got your first two-bedroom apartment, you always thought the dream would only be possible with a roommate. You didn’t have much money during college and transitioning into a full-time job didn’t allow you to freely spend outside of necessities and rent.
But you did it. You got two bedrooms and you didn’t initially know what to do with the extra room. A hobby space, a library, a guest room, or an office? There were too many possibilities.
This was your space, so you combined it all. A basket to keep all of your current craft obsessions next to a bean bag, two full shelves of books from your childhood to your university years, and a desk in the corner to write. It was everything you hoped for. A spot to leave work out of, to decompress and remember the things that made you happy.
You were proud you did it on your own. You could enjoy solitude, your hard work and give time to prioritize yourself.
But an unexpected accomplishment came with an unexpected visitor. A handsome visitor no less. Maybe being an adult wasn’t so bad all the time.
But meeting new people was bad. Or you were bad at it.
When you were up at two in the morning, doing normal two a.m. activities like trying to turn your entire life around, you believed that dragging yourself to one of the community events at the apartment complex would help you get to know your neighbors. Then you could scope the scene to see if you wanted to hide forever or maybe have a friendly acquaintance you acknowledged in the hallway.
Now you wanted neither as you sat, alone, at a bar stool in the well decorated community balcony. Although you were distancing yourself from the main party, you couldn’t help admiring the string lights they hung up, the pristine décor, and new furniture. They clearly went through a grand renovation before you moved in.
Despite your need to socially decompress from all the small talk, you did feel mellow in the warm lighting, listening to the slow music you quietly hummed to.
The view was great from your table, you got to see from the edge of the balcony into the city view. Gotham City did have its moments and lots of outsiders tend to see all the bad that overruns it, but when the city is calm, it has its own virtue.
As you watched the sky line, a man also decided to join in, admiring the city lights. He stood farther from where you sat, leaning against the glass and steel railing. He was probably distancing himself from the party like you were. You could only see half of his face from your current angle and distance, but he was…charming. Broody and charming.
Gotham did have the best views, but staring was bad. A little bit of hope crept into your mind at the thought of a handsome neighbor living in the same apartment building.
Another pretty man joined him. Wow, you never realized that Gotham had a lot of great views. Maybe you needed to get out more, enjoy the scenery a bit.
The two beautiful men seemed to know each other. One more talkative than the other, but they seemed close. It was amusing watching the way they contrasted one another, a man clearly dragged to be here tonight and the other fueling himself with the night vibe.
As much as you wanted to continue to be nosy, maybe it was time to call it a night, it was late and you got enough of your pretty boy fill for the evening. Which would have been the plan if you didn’t make eye contact with the second model that blessed your eyes.
You nervously observed the charismatic man walking toward you with a bright friendly smile.
“Hello, I just wanted to ask if my brother—the tall very alone one standing over there—could be tall and very alone over here, in this seat.” He dragged the stool out from underneath the glass table you were resting your arms on.
You looked at the empty seat across from you, then glanced at his presumed brother you were staring at earlier. He clearly didn’t agree to this sudden turn of events as he watched the two of you talk and he looked more mortified than you were. It was…cute. It brought a smile to your face.
“Well, your tall and very alone brother looks scared of me.” You glanced back to the man still holding the chair out.
Your comment must have been hysterical at the way the man was almost leaning forward from laughing. His dimples fully visible and his hair falling forward. Everything he did looked stunning.
“I promise he’s friendlier than he looks.” He breathlessly held his stomach still amused at your first impression of his broody brother. “He’s tall, alone, and friendly if it helps.”
You thought for a moment, debating on your options: leave or sit with a handsome man in possibly awkward silence.
“I don’t mind being alone together.” You smiled more, giving into the curiosity of the man leaning against the railing.
You were a simple human and apparently the man in front of you was too when he ushered his brother over. A man much too large for the bar stool, but you got a good look at his full face.
The curls, defined dark eyebrows, a white streak. His face had definition, a particular beauty that differed from his brother. Not less beautiful, but you were more drawn to the rougher look.
You definitely made the right choice.
Before you had any time to say anything, the conspirator left to go mingle with another bunch of attendees. You watched him hop from one conversation to another, you didn’t know whether he knew them or he just met them like you had five seconds ago.
“I think social anxiety is scared of him.” You laughed in disbelief to your new companion.
“Trust me, you have no idea. I’ve seen him wear some of the most horrendous outfits in public, willingly. What’s worse is—I hate to admit it—but he can pull it off, in a horrifying way.” The stranger shook his head, no mortification in his voice, and you almost unconsciously lulled to the sound. “But he means well, uh, sorry he dragged you into whatever he’s planning. I could leave you alone, he tends to unintentionally be pushy.”
Oh? Broody, charming and thoughtful. Was the bar low or were you easily impressed? Maybe the husky voice is blurring the distinction.
“No, it’s okay, he seemed worried about both us being ‘very alone’ as he put it.” You spoke, glancing into the eyes of the man in front of you. Greenish blue. A wave of amusement washed over you and with the most serious expression you could muster, you decided to test the waters. “From one alone person to another, let’s be alone together.” You reached out your hand to introduce yourself.
He coyly smiled at your formal gesture, leaning in to mimic your movement. You were both leaning onto the glass table, close enough to see the slight scaring on his face. Faint enough to see them only if you were close enough, wanting to drag your thumb across them.
His warm hand engulfed yours. Calloused. A firm handshake.
“Jason, alone man, and been alone for twenty-one years.” Jason gave you the most breathtaking smile, never letting go of your hand. “I’m looking forward to this opportunity…alone, of course.”
You laughed, almost giggled from how charming this man was.
“It’s been twenty-three alone years and still counting.” You mischievously smirked, glad he joined in on your antics. “I’m glad to let you join the team. I expect great things from you.”
“And I hope to learn a lot from my superiors, I’ll be in your care.” Jason’s voice was so low at the end of his statement. It caught you off guard that you almost missed the way he held onto your hand just a tiny bit longer than you anticipated. So short that you felt like you imagined it.
The warmth still lingered on your hands after you let go.
You were so engrossed in Jason’s company and Jason only had the eyes to look at you, that neither of you could see the man, who schemed your interaction, was beaming from watching the connection spark.
That single handshake and nonchalant agreement that you shared with an unknown neighbor actually kept it’s promise. That evening, you found out that Jason lived on the same floor as you did, that his brother visited him a lot, and he took out the trash on Wednesdays.
He didn’t tell you the last one, but you found out the last bit of information by accident when you bumped into him on your way back from the trash room. You thought the evening you met Jason would be the first and last time you would see him, but your laziness prevented you from taking out the garbage on your designated day and you were graced with seeing his lopsided smile as you passed him in the hallway.
You were so giddy from the surprise and seeing Jason’s captivating smile, you tested your luck and took the trash out on the same day and time the following week.
You listened out in the hallway, trying to hear a door open, it was honestly crazy behavior, but you continued your slow pace, but with no tall alone man in sight and a defeated sigh, you walked to the trash room with no Jason by your side and swung the door open.
Like a beam of light cascading over you, the man in question was standing in front of you, opening the trash shoot. You never thought a man in a trash room would be sexy, but with his shirt tightly straining on his body, a flushed face, and his muscles eye level with you, anything was possible.
May whoever told this gorgeous man to live at this apartment complex eat delicious meals, have working phone chargers, and a lifetime of happiness.
Somewhere off in the far distance, Dick sneezed.
You almost forgot the reason you were in the trash room after you set your eyes on Jason’s post-workout state. He kept the shoot open for you and with unsteady steps you threw your trash bag to disappear to the unknown. You were trying to not trip up with Jason’s defined arm holding the handle open and the close proximity of his chest to your face.
Maybe you need to go on a run. Why were you acting like this right now?
“Hey, neighbor.” Jason casually spoke to you. His voice felt airy, probably winding down from the exercise. “You come around here often?”
You cleared your mind from any thoughts, the trash room was not the place to start flirting, but what were you supposed to do when Jason started it? Or what you assumed to be flirtatious conversation.
“Nah, I’m new to town.” You glanced over to him, leaning your neck back to grasp his full height. Jason hadn’t missed the movement, combing your collarbone with his gaze. “But, I might stay a while.” You melodically spoke.
Before your stare and voice settled in the air, you stepped to the side to add a little distance between the two of you. Pulling away from the tension.
“Just so I can continue my alone things.” You explained trying to smoothen the mood with a playful tone.
Jason stayed quiet like he was contemplating something in his mind. Then he let the trash shoot close and with small steps the both of you walked out into the hallway.
“What alone things do you have planned tomorrow?” Jason nonchalantly asked, so casually you almost thought you heard wrong.
“Uh, work in the morning, but nothing planned for the evening, I wanted to try out a new cookie recipe.”
“Do you wanna come over to my place—I wanted to cook something for dinner, but it just hasn’t worked out yet. Maybe you can bring those cookies?” Jason didn’t look at you, suddenly interested in the pure white walls of the hallway. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.
You were stunned. How was such a beautiful man asking you to come over to his place with the promise of him cooking you dinner and all you had to do was bring your shitty cookies?
“I want to warn you that my cookies aren’t award worthy. I just follow the recipe, they’re nothing special.” You wanted to ensure that Jason was really inviting you over.
“Then I can’t wait to try your ‘nothing special’ cookies.” He reassured.
You spent the entire afternoon making sure your measurements were precise, not a lump of flour above the rim of the measuring utensils you haven’t brought out in a while. Usually you winged the ingredients, not really worried about the quality too much since it was just you.
But now you wanted to cry.
How did you properly fold ingredients, were you whisking right, maybe you should’ve got the too expensive butter from the store?
It took three full hours to prep, bake, and try your hand at cutely packaging the cookies. It took four attempts to arrange the cookies in a way that didn’t make you want to cancel the dinner.
But after a few pep talks in the mirror and reassuring yourself that this was a hang out and not a date, then you were able to walk over to his unit number.
You hesitantly knocked on the door, five minutes after seven because you would torture yourself thinking about arriving right on the dot before you fell asleep tonight and every night after.
Your worries left your mind when you saw Jason open the door in an apron.
“You’re just in time, I’m ready to plate everything.” He beamed.
Your heart might not be able to survive tonight. But it was just dinner.
You awkwardly handed Jason your tin of homemade cookies. You tried to limit your snooping around his apartment when he told you to wait for him to get the drinks, but curiosity was coursing through you once you realized that you were being invited into a part of Jason’s life and home.
You were no longer going to be strangers. You didn’t know if this qualified to make you friends, but you knew you were two people about to eat dinner together. A dinner he made and cookies you made as thanks.
Once you were ready to eat, you stared at your plate filled with spices, fresh veggies, a meticulously cooked entrée and a…homemade lemonade? You stared up at Jason, watching you look at his food.
“I feel like bringing you cookies isn’t enough.” Although you felt guilty, you took a bite because you didn’t want to look at one more second of Jason’s shining eyes.
You could only sigh, which made Jason worry.
“I think I’m going to name my children after you.”
Jason chuckled at your exaggeration.
“I’d be honored.”
The rest of the meal was relaxing. You didn’t have to force yourself around Jason. Your conversation flowed easily and you were interested in learning about the man you met on the balcony.
After many trips to the other side of the apartment building and a couple of deep cleanings of your apartment, you got accustomed to having Jason walk around your kitchen, rummaging the cabinets and organizing your spices the way he likes it.
One shared meal after another. Sometimes several times a week or spaced out further when work got busy. It was nice to look forward to a meal with Jason.
Now you had text messages from him on your phone, a designated mug for him, and a couple of his snacks that he wanted you to try.
You traded recipes. Jason gave you his favorites and you mainly just gave him ones you were curious about, not very fond of your kitchen.
After several failed attempts at convincing him that it was your kitchen that was the problem and not your ability to cook, he came over more to prove you wrong.
Now you sat at your kitchen island to watch him concentrate on mixing an assortment of spices and herbs while you memorized as much of his face and hands as possible. The TV was on, but you had no interest in whatever movie played.
“I have a confession to make.” You sadly looked at Jason.
He glanced over from the pan on the stove to your face. Confusion in his eyes from your sudden change in tone.
“I actually don’t really like cookies.” You threw your hands up in a guilty pose. “Now it’s eating me inside that I had to give those to you when I first came over to your place.”
Jason hummed and tilted his head with one of his eyebrows raised in a teasing manner.
“So, the guilt finally got to you, huh?” He grinned moving his attention back to the food cooking in front of him. His nonchalant voice resonating around you.
“I can’t sleep at night anymore.” You exaggerated, walking a little closer to his side. “Well, once you became my personal chef I realized I had to make it up to you.” You could smell the food better now that you were standing next to Jason.
“I can see the guilt in your eyes.” He flatly said watching you eyeing the food.
“We always eat when we hang out and I can make simple foods, but if I can follow a recipe I was going to suggest if I should cook something, but you are also here to prove me wrong that my kitchen isn’t cursed. Which it is by the way—”
“Your kitchen is not cursed.” He warmly scolded you. “I’ll come over everyday to prove it if I have to.”
You always had to reset your brain when he used that tone with you. It just felt too…sincere. Too intimate.
You wanted him to come over everyday. You took a breath.
“I make more money than when I was still in college, but I don’t think I can afford that many grocery bills.” You teased him. “Why do you think I go over to your place?”
You wanted to evade any serious topics and humor was the best at evading. You were good at avoidance.
“So, I’m a free pantry to you?” His eyebrows rose, questioning you. “I knew you were using me!” He faked a flabbergasted voice like he just heard his life-long partner declare they were cheating on him for months.
He turned off the stove, covering the pan with the lid and turning to face you.
“I didn’t mean to, it just sort of happened.” You gave him your best dejected look. “I promise I’ll pick up more shifts to help restock your fridge, but let me just taste your homemade ravioli one last time.” You begged as he moved closer to you, closing you in with the kitchen island behind your back.
His height and broad shoulders easily caved you in. You gulped watching his face lean down and inch closer.
“If I can’t trust you with my fridge, you don’t deserve my ravioli.” He lowered his voice, gazing down at you with a look that made you breathless. You couldn’t move with the counter behind you and Jason hovering dangerously close to you. “But, you can make it up to me.” He brought his thumb to your chin, barely a wisp of touch.
“How?” You stammered, wondering if the bit was still going.
“Let’s go to the farmer’s market tomorrow.” His hand moved from your face to the edge of the counter, close enough to touch your side and his voice returning to normal, but he didn’t pull away.
“Okay, uh, I’m off tomorrow.” You stared, darting your eyes between Jason’s eyes. Trying to adjust to the tension that was radiating off of him.
“Good, foods ready.” Jason pulled away, moving to the cabinet to grab your glass plates. He was too familiar with the layout of your kitchen.
That night you quickly learned how easy Jason was able to turn the tables. Your racing heart and shallow breathing were the only evidence of it ever happening.
The heat beat down on you. Of all days for Gotham to finally clear it’s clouds, it chose today.
Although you weren’t fond of the warm air, you liked watching all the colorful tents, the food on display, and seeing the various local products. Everything looked intricately cared for and it brought a proud feeling to contribute to the locals.
“Bags?” Jason asked, going through his mental checklist.
“Check.” You raised the reusable grocery bags in your hands.
“Hats?”
“Check.” You nudged the baseball cap on your head.
“Money?” Jason smirked.
You grabbed onto Jason’s bicep. Giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Check.” You grinned up at Jason looking at the placement of your hand. “Now let’s go!” You gleefully led him to the first tent with your hand still on him.
You had no idea how you ended up carrying all the bags, but you were trying to ease your mind that this could be considered a date. Jason didn’t call it that and you never asked to clarify, but you couldn’t help it itching at your brain.
You didn’t want to label anything, out of respect for Jason and what he wanted, but you noticed he had started to touch you more and the contact makes you giddy that you had to put all of your focus on making sure you don’t drop his produce.
You stood by Jason, looking at various jars of loose leaf tea. He was smelling all the aromas, helping to move the jars to your nose, so you could smell them too. He insisted on helping you since you refused to give him a bag, but you also didn’t have a free hand to grab the jar.
After a couple more sniff tests, he settled on a jar of prickly pear tea, a lemon-ginger flavor, and he was contemplating on some earl grey cookies. You were watching him, entranced by his concentration. His brows lowered, a small line appearing between his brows. You could see more of his face with a cap on, no messy curls on his forehead and his side profile was really something.
You broke out of your trance when he offered you a piece of the earl-grey cookie, holding it in front of your mouth.
“They’re free samples, try it.” He looked at you, waiting patiently. “I know you don’t like cookies, but these are made with the tea sold here. I saw all the tea you keep in your pantry, so I think you would like it.”
In your lost state at this man in front of you, that could’ve sounded like a proposal to you at that point.
You inched forward, opening your mouth for the cookie. You hesitated at the intimacy, but how could you tell that face ‘no.’ Staring at the small piece of cookie, baked a quarter of the original size they sold, you also saw all the scars that littered Jason’s hands. Many healed over, but you could see the faded lines.
You dangerously wanted to kiss each one.
You grabbed the piece in your mouth, but you didn’t realize that you accidentally touched Jason’s finger with your lip.
You quickly glanced at Jason, but his eyes were glossed over. His attention focused on your mouth.
What a sight.
You chewed and hummed. They were good. Jason cleared his throat at your approval.
“I’ll get a bag and the tea. I’ll be back. You can put the bags down for a bit because there’s a small line.” He quickly turned around, a small tinge of redness left on his ears with his head turned away from you.
You watched his back walk away, then settled the bags down to give your arms a break.
“Excuse me, I just wanted to tell you that you two are adorable.” A honeyed voice spoke trying to grab your attention.
Your head whipped back to the table of teas. An older lady restocking the various collection had a mischievous look in her eye. You hadn’t noticed her there at all.
“The way your boyfriend looks at you, I haven’t seen a look like that since my husband passed many years ago.” The lady gushed.
“Wha, no, I—“ You stammered, trying to clear up the confusion, but your flustered face must’ve amused the woman.
“That made my day, so I wanted to give you this lemon bar we just started selling. Go on, take it and share it with him.” She pressured you to take the free treat. You were too speechless to try to refuse it and insist that you pay before she placed it in your hand herself and she walked off to help another customer wanting a sample.
Your face felt hot and you hoped it cleared before Jason came back, but before you could fan the redness away he appeared next to you with his purchase.
“Hey, you okay? Where’d you get that lemon—”
“Let’s get some lunch!” You grabbed the bags and nudged him to the food trucks lining the edge of the market, trying to hide your face with your hat and leaving the comments from the woman behind.
“Wow, this might be the best empanada I’ve ever had.” You chomped at your lunch.
Jason found a waffle place and settled on a berry topping. It was wrapped perfectly to fit in his hands.
You sat across from Jason at an outdoor table with an umbrella to shield you from the sun, sitting away from the rush of people lining up to also eat. The midday lunch rush got to you and you wanted to have a bit of privacy before you went back home.
“How long have you known about this place?” You asked Jason, a slight breeze grazing your face. Watching a kid nudging his dad for a piece of banana bread he found on one of the vendor’s tables.
“Last year? It was recent, but I’ve heard it’s been around for a while. Maybe over five years?” Jason took a bite of his waffle.
“I wish I had found this during my university years. This is a bit out of the way of my walk route, but it would’ve been awesome to browse with my friend.” You saw the boy you were watching earlier smiling wide as he held his dad’s hand and the banana loaf as big as his head. You smiled at the interaction.
“But I probably would’ve sent my friend into shock.” You continued, the boy and his dad disappearing into the crowd. “I wasn’t very social during my university years.” You glanced at Jason, his waffle gone and he was neatly folding the wrapper.
“My friend would joke that I would only meet someone if they magically met me at home. Like that was the only way I could score a date.” You pitifully joked at the old memory. “Sounds absurd doesn’t it, but she wasn’t wrong—“
You saw a shift in Jason’s eyes. He had an oddly serious look, it stopped you from talking and you sat up straighter, wondering what he was thinking about.
You waited, watching him internally fight with whatever he wanted to say.
“That’s not true.” He hesitated. “You’re funny, you’re able to connect with others, you’re a great listener, and you’re honest. You don’t have the heart to be mean to others and your facial expressions are adorable.” His voice rose the longer he defended you. His serious expression further amplified with his furrowed eyebrows. A part of his face obscured by his cap, but you felt the raw emotion emanating from him.
“Anyone would be enamored with you, even if they met you in the hallway or walking down the street.” He puffed, crushing the waffle paper on the table.
You were surprised, glancing over at Jason, watching him get this frustrated. You realized you’ve never seen him this…emotional and he refused to look at you.
The sudden development and his clear thoughts about you stunned you. You joked with Jason how alone you both were, it even brought you together thanks to his brother, but you didn’t really know how alone he truly was. You don’t think he really understood how lonely you were too.
You enjoyed your shared meals, you craved his time and attention.
You got so used to his presence that the days you didn’t see him, you felt like you were dreaming. Waiting to wake up when you heard that familiar knock on your door.
Your heart raced and you hoped he cherished your time together like you did.
You didn’t want to assume his witty personality as being flirtatious, you didn’t want to misunderstand any of his intentions because he was funny, charming, and awkward in ways that you just wanted to grab his face and protect him.
You didn’t particularly need Jason as your person, that felt too selfish, but you also wanted to be somebody to him. Either next to him or from a distance.
A friend, a companion, a lover. The label didn’t really matter to you because you were open to any role. A lover wasn’t more significant than a friend would be. They both had the same foundation, to care for someone unconditionally.
You convinced yourself that you were happy alone, but not until recently you realized you weren’t living. You were asleep in the routine of life.
And when Jason entered your life, you felt like you woke up for the first time.
Like he was the only one who could wake you up.
All you knew was that you wanted to be there. Through his pain, his suffering, his happiest moments, his accomplishments, his anger. To be his person.
To also help him wake up.
Your silent contemplation made Jason panic.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get worked up—“
“I think apartment community events count.” You softly whispered, indecisive of whether you wanted him to hear you or not.
“What—“
“And secret meetings in the trash room too.” Your voice meek.
You were shaking, too tense to look at his reaction to your words.
“Despite what she told me, I still managed to meet you. And I was able to have some of the best meals. I’ve never laughed as hard as I have when we joked. I’m able to try new things.” You raised your head, overwhelmed by your feelings, but you hoped to convey yourself properly to Jason. “I’ve never felt so comfortable and safe with anyone else.”
Jason looked at you wide eyed and speechless, his mouth slightly agape. You took the disbelief as a sign to continue.
“I’m able to be all those things that you said because I’m with you.” Your voice filled with more resolve the more concrete your feelings felt, the more sure you became. You squeezed your eyebrows together, complete sincerity in your gaze, your heart filled with so much emotion.
But your eyebrows relaxed once you saw Jason’s face turn red. His ears a crimson shade. Before you could engrave it in your memory, he tilted his head down, covering his face with the front of his baseball cap.
“Wait, wait, wait—I didn’t expect this.” Jason rubbed a hand down his face, but the redness contrasted the skin of his hand. “You were so shy every time I tried to push the boundaries between us, but now your directly confessing everything at once.”
He stopped rubbing his face and rested his hand on the table. Meeting your gaze, a tint of red still on his skin but not as deep as before.
“I’ve been trying to get closer to you. I’ve been hoping to run into you since we first talked on the balcony. When we met in the trash room, I purposely tried to meet you again. I’ve looked forward to every meal I’ve cooked for you and although I haven’t been clear about my feelings, I didn’t want to pressure or rush you.” Jason took a breath, closing his eyes for a moment.
When they opened again, his eyes were completely focused on you.
“I want us to be more than friends…I want to be able to come over when I miss you, fold laundry together, buy you things when they remind me of you, I want you to call me when you need car maintenance.” He kept his eyes trained on you, but his voice faltered. “I want to hold your hand and to kiss you. I want us to go on dates.”
You raised your hand to the table, placing your hand over Jason’s, but he quickly flipped your hands so he was holding yours a little more firmly.
“I want to know if you snore while you sleep, to have your things at my place, so I see you in every inch of my life. I want you to know how much I’ve fallen for you.”
“I want that too.” Your voice trembled. “I’ve been wanting to hold your hand while we walked today and I want you to come over more often.” You choked as Jason leaned in to caress your face with his hand. A sickening sweet touch that you never knew you would get to feel. You cupped your hand over his.
“I’m so happy. I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while.” Jason whispered to you, his voice so honey sweet.
You looked up to him. A gentle gaze reflecting back.
“I probably look like a mess right now.” You shakily laughed.
“Of course not, you’re breathtaking, sweetheart.” Jason rubbed a thumb on your cheek, completely enamored by you.
“As much as I would love to hear you continue, I’m worried about the stuff you bought and this heat.” You tried to focus, but the smooth touch of Jason was difficult to ignore.
“Yeah, we probably need to make our way back.”
Despite his words, he didn’t move. He lingered on your face a while longer before he looked at all the bags he accumulated this morning.
“Will you let me help you carry some of the bags?” He asked. “I also want to hold your hand on the way back.”
You beamed at him. Reaching for his hand as you stood up.
Your walk back was refreshing.
You were exhausted from the intense flux of emotions you released, but Jason’s grip on your hand stabilized you.
You couldn’t stop smiling, the heat no longer bothering you. You swung your interlaced hands to the motion of your steps and Jason let you do what you wanted as long as you still held on.
When you got to the entrance of your apartment building, you were graced with the AC hitting you. Your hair would definitely be messed up from the sweat and your cap.
You waited in front of the elevator doors as it descended from the last person that used it. The lobby was empty, except from the usual leasing office workers inhabiting the space, but it was just you and Jason off to the side.
As you glanced around, making sure the employees were occupied, you used your grip on Jason’s hand to pull him down enough for you to kiss his cheek. A little awkward with your cap in the way, but you were able to surprise Jason.
He stayed hunched forward, shifting his face to look at you closely and digest what you did.
Ding. The elevator doors opened and you pulled Jason in the elevator.
You felt accomplished as you pushed the button to your floor. When you moved back to Jason’s side, you looked up to him, but he grabbed your face.
His hand pushed your cap up, so he could lean in and kiss you. His hat also moving up at the angle he was in.
You closed your eyes, disoriented at the feeling and because Jason completely blocked your view of the elevator, so you only heard the doors close.
Lost in the feeling and the movement of his lips, you dropped the bags in your hand to grab at Jason’s sleeve, wanting to grasp at something.
You’ve never felt so desperate to get Jason even closer and he must have understood or he craved it more because he pushed you back against the elevator wall. You felt the cold metal against your back and you gasped.
Jason devoured the sound, motivating him to hold your waist, but it wasn’t enough for him. He crouched a little lower to grasp you behind your legs to lift you fully off the ground, inching your body up, higher and more level with his face.
The angle changed and you easily wrapped your arms around his neck while simultaneously wrapping your legs around his waist. The moment intensifying as you pulled at his hair below his hat and you swallowed the low groan that left his mouth. You were drawn to the deep sound and the feeling of the hum you felt on your mouth.
You were practically flush against his body and you were down to your last few breaths, but you didn’t want to pull your face away from Jason.
You nipped at his lower lip and he lifted his hands to cup the sides of your face, digging his fingers into your sweaty hair and rubbing the back of your ears. You opened your mouth wanting to feel more of him when you heard someone loudly clear their throat.
You pulled away, shoving Jason by his shoulders as he whipped his head to see where the voice came from. You fell to your feet trying to lean against the wall with the sudden motion, hair a mess with your cap lopsided as you looked past Jason to see Dick standing there with a hand on his waist and the other holding the elevator door open. He didn’t look at the two of you directly, more like a lost look to the side.
You breathlessly adjusted your cap as you frantically smoothed out your shirt.
Jason pulled his cap down as he sighed then redirected his attention to you, gently reaching out to you to smooth out some of your hair and help you stand up straighter. Then he grabbed the bags you both dropped on the floor as he turned around to face his brother.
“I didn’t know you were coming over. You should’ve texted.” Jason walked past his brother, annoyance laced in his voice.
“I did.” Dick replied. He looked at you then followed after Jason. “But it seems you were a little occupied.” Amusement coating his voice and visible in the way he walked.
“I see you’re getting to know your neighbors very well.” Dick teased, a giant grin on his face. “I’m glad.”
What a way to meet Jason’s brother again after all this time. You wanted the floor to open up and swallow you away from the lack of awareness you had to make out with Jason in public.
You couldn’t decide if it was worse that a stranger could’ve saw you or that Dick was the one who did.
“Yeah, yeah, come inside.” Jason unlocked the door to his apartment. You nervously followed after the two.
“No seriously, I’m glad you two continued to see each other.” A genuine comment from Dick. “I’ve never seen you so comfortable with someone, Jaybird.”
A small hum from Jason as he set the bags down onto the counter.
With no indication that he wanted to speak further, you decided to talk.
“I’m sorry we’re meeting again like this. I promise I’m usually a better influence.” Hopefully your lighthearted tone would give off a better impression than the one on the elevator.
“Ha! I know you are because,” Dick moved in closer, lowering his voice. “This is the most behaved I’ve seen Jason in months.”
“Alright, enough, dickwa—Dick,” Jason cleared his throat. “But we just got back and I want to shower. It was too damn hot today.”
“Oh, I bet it was—“
“Thank you! Never come by again. See you. Good Night.” Jason raised his voice, shoving his brother out the door.
“No, please, I swear I’m done!” Dick pleaded as he was trying to hang onto the door frame, but Jason closed the door before he could start to beg.
“Are you sure he’ll be alright?” You questioned Jason.
He didn’t bother to answer your question as he closed the space between you and wrapped his arms around you, resting his forehead on your shoulder and letting his hands intertwine around your waist, falling onto your lower back.
Jason signed into your shirt. The feeling slightly tickling you.
“I wasn’t done earlier.” He whispered against you. “Then that dickhead had to interrupt.”
You laughed, loving the pouty sound of his voice.
You embraced him back, leaning your head against his.
“I think the elevator interrupted you.” You rubbed his back in soothing circles.
You closed your eyes for a moment, letting a silence fall in Jason’s apartment before your curiosity got to you.
“Jaybird?”
“It’s a nickname.”
“It’s cute.”
“Enough about him, we need to put away all the stuff we bought.” Jason lifted his head to sullenly look at the numerous bags.
“That reminds me.” You let go of him to dig around the bags, trying to find your earlier gift. “I was told to share this with you by an older woman who thought my boyfriend was adorable.”
Jason shifted behind you. Closing his hands on the edges of the counter, both of his arms on your sides. Once you found the lemon bar, you turned your body, careful to lean against the counter with Jason’s body still in front of you, around you practically.
“It’s a new product. She said I could have it for making her day, but I have to thank you because we wouldn’t have gotten it without you.”
You opened the wrapper, breaking a piece off to feed to Jason.
“How does it taste?”
Jason lingered. You anticipated what he thought, but he leaned forward to kiss you. You held onto the lemon bar, but lowered it the more heated your kiss became. The tangy taste invading your mouth.
“Amazing.”
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need a part 2 for sleeping beauty already omg ur writing is too beautiful, need to read Spencer being shy n sweet
:((( ♡
thank you honey🥺 i want spencer to whisper in my ear😔 pt1
“are you okay with sharing a popcorn?” looking to your left at spencer while the two of you stood in the concessions line.
the old styled theater was heavily packed with different ages of people. from young children with parents, to couples holding onto each other, and elderly adults sitting down before heading into the show room. you could see why spencer would enjoy coming to this place, he could meet people of similar interest.
spencer held on tightly to the strap of his satchel, “i don’t really eat popcorn much. also did you know that popcorn has been around for about nine thousand years, evidence found by archaeologists in peru.” he looked away from you then squeezed his eyes shut, “uh, but i’ll be okay with- with sharing if i want a few pieces.”
your lips shaped into a smile, “we can ask for a water cup and pour some in for yourself before i start eating.” two steps forward in line, “what size drink? and beverage?” eyes squinting a bit to read over the options.
“your not paying, right?” a stern tone from spencer that it gives you whiplash for a moment. his brows are harshly pinched in the middle, a finger twitched at the urge to smooth out the wrinkle.
you shrugged, “you bought the tickets, thought i could buy the food. probably gonna be equal pricing in total.” used to splitting or paying in full for past dates.
spencer pushed his bag behind him, your wallet was tucked away in the brown leather. “no, this is a date,” insisting, “i’m paying for everything. i want to treat you.” softening his voice as he stared at you, his eyes rounding out into that doe shape.
you bit into your bottom lip, saving your cheeks from their future ache of how strong your smile widened. “okay,” embracing spencer’s gentlemanly deed. you looked back to the line, only three more people ahead.
you let your arms rest at your sides, fingers constantly moving, wanting to do something bold but unsure if it’s too soon. there was a ghost of knuckles that tingled your skin and then, one slender finger wrapped itself around your pointer finger. your heart skipped a beat at the contact, but you acted like this was an everyday occurrence, the intimacy felt normal.
“do you want any candy?” spencer resumed your food chat. you hummed for a moment, “if i get a kitkat and reeces pieces, will you share with me?” giving your joined digits a slight swing.
“the kitkat. not a big fan of the reeces texture.” once at the counter spencer recited your order easily, not bothering with a spare water cup. you carried your soda while spencer held the small popcorn, his water and the candy placed into his bag.
“are you okay with the back? don’t want to distract people with all my moving.” standing at the foot of the steps, only two third of the seats filled during the commercials.
you dragged spencer behind you as you guided the both of you to the last row, a pair of seats close to the middle. “are you okay with translating the whole thing? if it’s like the original then i’ll be fine.” hoping spencer still agrees, but the movie is an hour and a half long.
spencer was distracted with his bag when he replied, “i’ve already seen this movie. i don’t mind talking you through it.”
your face warmed instantly at the innuendo. “just- just take a break whenever. i can use context clues.” crossing a leg over a knee so you can lean closer into spencer’s side. “thank you, for this date,” whispered between the two of you.
spencer turned his head quickly that your noses brushed, his lip parting and you let your eyes drop to the plush pink calling to you. you let your head move in just an inch closer, waiting to see if spencer will lean away or go forward. just before there was a definite decision the lights dimmed and an usher walked in front of the screen.
you settled your back against the cushioned chair but stayed leaning, elbow resting on the arm rest. “enjoy the show,” the usher finished with before leaving and just a moment after the projector lights shined above your heads.
sleeping beauty appeared in swooping cursive titling then faded into the opening scene of a giant fairytale book. you barely moved your head when you felt spencer’s breath ghosting over your ear, needing to suppress a sudden shiver.
“once upon a time…”
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blissfulbarbie · 11 months
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I Hope You're Happy / Joel Miller x Reader
Description: Joel breaks up with you, thinking that he's setting you free to chase your dreams. And you do. And he gets another girl pregnant. And you meet each other in the cereal aisle of the grocery store. And you hope the other is happy. But you're not. You're both not.
Word count: 2.6k
A/N: Angst angst angst. No outbreak AU.
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Deep down, you knew this day would come. What did you expect, dating someone 10 years older than you? You just didn’t think it would come this soon. Or that it would hurt this much. 
As you sat there in the dimly lit living room, the weight of Joel's words hung heavily in the air. It had been a typical evening, sharing a meal and telling each other about your day, but something felt different tonight. The air seemed heavy with tension and Joel’s smiles didn’t really reach his eyes, betraying an inner turmoil that you hadn't seen before.
"Listen," he began, his voice tinged with regret, "I’ve been thinking a lot about something."
You felt a knot tightening in your stomach as you nodded, prompting him to continue.
Joel stared at the floor, avoiding your gaze. "I love you. So much. More than I ever thought I could love someone. But, I can't keep pretending that I can give you everything you deserve. I'm 35, and I've lived a life that's... complicated. I don't want to tie you down, especially when you have so much of the world left to explore."
You tried to understand his perspective. Tried to see where he was coming from but all you could think was, Why now? Why now when I’ve already fallen in love with you?
"I don't want you to look back one day and regret being with me," he continued, his voice gentle as he clasps both of your hands in his. "I couldn’t live with myself if one day you look at me and all I’d see is regret in your eyes. I want you to experience the world, to find your own path. I know you'll go on to do amazing things, and I don't want to be the reason you didn't." His eyes glimmered with tears. 
“And what about what I want?” You stared back at him, defiant. “What if I want to be here with you?”
He smiled softly and shook his head. “You know, I could be selfish and keep you here with me. But what can you achieve in this town, really? You had such big dreams when we met, remember? Don’t think I forgot.” 
He was right. You passed on a few big job opportunities in New York when you settled down with Joel, and you kept telling yourself you’d apply next week, which became next month, next year, until it never happened. Suddenly a fancy job and new apartment in the Big Apple didn’t seem appealing anymore. Not when you had Joel. 
“Dreams change.” was all you managed to get out before your throat started to tighten and you felt the prickling of tears in your eyes.
Joel pulled you in for a hug and buried his face in your shoulder. “Don’t change them for me. Never for me.” 
Deep down, you knew you had to go. Not because you wanted to, but because you knew Joel would never forgive himself if you didn’t. It was ironic and so painfully stupid that it hurt - he thought this breakup would help you and you went through with it to help him. 
So there you went. You packed your bags and you were out of there in less than a week. You moved in with a friend in New York for a couple of months until you secured a stable job and an apartment. You followed Joel's advice, exploring the world, pursuing your dreams, and building a life that was uniquely your own. You missed him more than you cared to admit, but you knew that his intentions had been pure, and in a way, it did benefit you. 
You have proper savings now, and you are a fully independent adult, carving your way painfully through a year of hard work, job searches, apartment hunting - all while navigating a broken heart. And while you love your new life, late at night in the dark of your fancy new apartment overlooking the city skyline, you often found yourself thinking, was it all worth it? 
But you shake your head out of the daze eventually. Because if it isn’t worth it then all the pain and all the tears were for nothing. So you had to love this life. Forced yourself to love it because that’s what Joel wanted for you. Joel. Even now, you still live for Joel. 
Until you didn’t. Your fingers freeze on your phone as you read the caption on Cassie’s new instagram post with a man who looks all too familiar. 
Excited to welcome a new chapter into our lives. 👶❤️
Your stomach sinks. Your phone drops to the bed. And tears sting your eyes. No. It can’t be. You pick up the phone again and there he is. Your Joel, messy hair as if he just rolled out of bed and his scruffy beard. Smiling at Cassie who’s holding a picture of an ultrasound. CASSIE? And JOEL?
You try to think back to every interaction they had during the course of your relationship but it had never been more than polite small talk at neighbourhood gatherings or run-ins at the grocery store. Wasn’t she married? Fuck this. You double tap the picture, giving it a “like”. This will give them something to talk about, you think spitefully. He wanted me to move on with my life? Well this is me, moved on. As you throw your phone to the other side of the bed, the pain finally sinks in and you cry into your pillow, wondering if you truly, will ever move on. 
In the years that pass, you try to distract yourself with work and your new friendships. On paper, your life in New York was going swimmingly well and you had even dated a couple of nice guys. Dating still gives you a little twinge in the heart but you ignore it for the most part. People would kill for the life you have and you will NOT be ungrateful about it. 
But of course, life is never that simple. Just when you think you’re able to find happiness, you get thrown a curveball. And this curveball came in the form of Joel Miller, standing in the cereal aisle of your local grocery store. He’s older, grayer, but damn him, he still looks so fucking good. You stand there staring for a moment, while he examines the box of Cap’n Crunch. As he puts the box back down and glances up, he meets your eyes and you hate this cliche, but you swear to God, time stands still. 
He whispers your name, almost in disbelief as his brows furrow. “Hey. Wow.” 
“Hey.” 
“You… How are you?” 
“I’m good. Yourself?” 
“Yeah great.”
Somehow this exchange cuts you deeper than the day he broke up with you. When did you become people who could barely speak 3 words to each other? 
Trying to alleviate the clenching of your heart, you speak up. “What are you doing here? This is the last place I thought I’d ever run into you.” 
He chuckles softly. “Yeah, I uh.. Tommy’s up here meeting a couple of friends and asked me to tag along. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out by the way, I should have texted when I knew we were heading –” 
You cut him off, not wanting to hear lies. “No, that’s okay. I wouldn’t expect you to. You must be busy now anyways with the kid.” 
His eyes soften at that, guilt and pain flashing through them but you push on. “It’s fine, really. You’re not obligated to tell me these things. I just saw on Cassie’s instagram. Is she here too?” 
At that, he visibly stiffens and clears his throat as he replies, “Oh, Cassie and I aren’t together anymore. Well we were never.. But we kind of.. Yeah she’s not in the picture. It’s just me and Sarah.” 
Sarah. He had a girl. A little girl. Your stomach twists and you kind of feel like throwing up so you try to find an exit. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Well, Sarah is lucky to have you. I always knew you’d make a good dad.” 
He smiles for the first time in this conversation. “Truthfully, I have no idea what I’m doing half the time but she’s a good kid.” 
Enough. Enough. Enough. “Well, it was nice meeting you again Joel, and I’m glad you’re doing well–” 
“No, wait. Can we talk, please? I.. I’ve missed you. I want to talk.” Joel steps towards you as if to stop you from leaving but then holds himself back. 
“I don’t think we have anything much to say to each other anymore, Joel, don’t you think?” You chuckle a little to mask the overwhelming urge to cry. 
“I just want to know how you’re doing.” He looks at the ground, like a puppy scolded by his owner and you know you can’t resist the floodgates that pour out. You take a deep breath and let it all out in one exhale.
“Fine. You want to know? I’m doing great, just as you said I would. I make a ridiculous amount of money every year, I have a fancy apartment that overlooks the city, I have nice friends and a good life. It’s everything you wanted for me.” 
“You deserve it. I knew you would.” He says, nodding with a sad smile.
“So why don’t I feel happy yet?” You can’t believe it but you actually start to cry. Here in the middle of the damn cereal aisle in front of your ex-boyfriend. 
He stands stunned for a moment, his eyes concerned and brows furrowed. He eventually steps fully in front of you this time. His hands hesitate, as if he doesn't know where to put them, until he settles for your shoulders. “I’m sorry. I thought.. I thought you would be–” 
You bat his hands off your shoulders. “Yeah, you did. But it doesn’t matter because what’s done is done and we’ll never get it back. Any of it.” 
He says your name, pleadingly. 
“No, I don’t blame you. I left, didn't I? It was my decision too. I guess deep down some part of me thought I would be better off. And in a way I am. I really am. But I cannot lie to you and say that I’m happy Joel, because I’m not. And nothing will change that. Because this is my life now.” 
A moment of silence passes between the two of you as the weight of the years of separation hangs there. “I’m not either,” he whispers. 
“What?” 
“I’m not.. happy. Cassie and I had a fling when I was heartbroken and dealing with our breakup. She had just gotten divorced and I was.. I was planning to ask for you back. I was prepared to get on a fucking airplane and beg on my knees until you took me back. Whether that meant moving you back home or me moving here, it didn’t matter to me. We’d make it work. I just wanted you to know that I made a mistake and I shouldn’t have decided for you.” He places his hands on your shoulders again, and you let them stay this time. 
He continues, speaking quickly as if a dam has burst. “But then Cassie got pregnant. And I knew I had to make a choice. We said we’d try to raise the kid together and be a family but.. A few months after Sarah was born she just left. Literally, took off and left, and I have no idea where she went. Frankly, I don’t even care. And then I got so busy with the kid and then years passed, and I just lost the timing. What, am I just supposed to call you up 10 years after breaking up with you, telling you what a joke my life has become? How I’ve regretted every moment since you packed your bags?” 
You let all of his words sink in for a while before choking out, “And what do I do with all this information now? What do you expect me to do?” 
He’s tearing up and his voice rises a little as he replies, “Nothing. I don’t expect nothing. I just needed you to know that I never spent a day without thinking of you or loving you. And that I’m sorry. And that I wish you were happy, because if you were, then at least all of this bullshit would be worth it. But you’re not.” 
You nod, your brain not fully able to come up with words at this point, so he continues. “If you’d told me you were happy, I would have swallowed my pride, wished you well, and walked out of this store with the knowledge that at least all this pain has finally brought you joy. But we’re both hurting now, so what does that make us?” 
“Two idiots crying in the cereal aisle?” You offer with a small chuckle through your tears. 
He breathes out a small laugh. “Yeah. That it does.” 
A woman passing through the aisle snaps you both back to reality as you wipe your tears and gather yourselves. “It is really good to see you, Joel. And.. thank you for telling me all of it. It doesn’t change anything but I think I needed to hear it.” 
He shakes his head before looking into your eyes. “You know what the sick part is? 10 years ago I told you I never wanted you to look at me with regret in your eyes. Yet here you are.” 
You nod and smile sadly. There’s nothing left to say. 
His gaze turns soft. “I hope you’ll be happy someday. Maybe not now, but someday.” 
“Maybe. And yourself?” 
“Maybe.” He replies cheekily, smiling softly. With that, he pulls you in for a hug and the familiar waft of his cologne transports you back to 10 years ago when you hugged in his living room before saying goodbye, when you used to cuddle together so close at night, when he used to hug you before leaving for work. Your memories together flash before your eyes like a sick Hallmark movie except this time you know the ending. 
You feel the press of his lips against your head and you swear you hear him whisper the words “I love you” but you can’t be sure because your heart is pounding and you can feel it in your ears. Your life from this point on will always be divided into before and after. The point where you know, you just know, the choice you made is irreversible. You will never have Joel Miller ever again.
As you pull away, you both tearfully smile and look at each other for the last time. You spend a good minute just looking, memorizing the other’s face. You both don’t bother with the polite pleasantries of promising to keep in touch because you know that would be a lie. It would be too painful. This is your fate now. 
You walk past each other, leaving your memories and feelings behind in the dust of your footprints. To passersby, you look like strangers. Passing each other in the cereal aisle, meeting for a moment and then never again. And maybe that’s what you are now. Strangers, destined to be in each other’s lives for a moment, and then never again. 
Joel eventually goes back home to Austin, and you stay in your beautiful apartment which seems to be mocking you with how big and yet empty it feels. 
Joel looks at his daughter and wonders what it would be like if this kid was yours, and you stare at your phone, a message from your new date asking you to confirm a meeting time flashing on your screen.
Joel wonders what life would be like if you’d stayed. You wonder the same thing.
Tag list: @just-some-random-blogger @joeldjarin @pattwtf
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wintrwinchestr · 5 months
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obedience | part 2
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summary: a week ago, you and joel had experimented with a new kink, and it’s been on your mind ever since. you had been too shy to ask to try it out again, but joel always knows exactly what you need.
warnings: 18+, smut, daddy kink, pet play (egregious use of “puppy”, joel teaches you dog commands and refers to your hand as your paw, among other things), d/s and ddlg relationship dynamics, praise kink, degradation/dumbification kink, cockwarming, edging, unprotected piv sex, creampie, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, etc), talk of reader wearing a collar, joel giving reader a bath/washing her hair, hella aftercare, reader has hair and can be carried by joel, implied age gap but reader is an adult, let me know if i missed anything!!
word count: 5.7k
a/n: literally nobody look at me please. this the most self indulgent self insert shit i’ve ever written in my life and if you get it you get it idk what else to say!!! anyway thank you for being patient with me and reading what i write, my big girl job takes it out of me sometimes but that’s what i write this type of shit to deal with <3 nice comments and reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed or if this awakened something in you :)
(read part 1 here if you missed it)
dividers by @saradika
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“You want Daddy to train you, babygirl, you wanna be his pretty lil’ pet?”
It had been a week now since Joel had punished you, denied you for acting out over the phone, for disobeying him and sending him lewd photos of yourself when he had explicitly told you to stop. But you hadn’t listened, he wasn’t having it, and when he had returned home from work late that night, he had called you by a new name. Puppy, he had spat at you several times as he made you chase a ruined orgasm on his steel-toed work boot. 
The pet name hadn’t left your mind since then, repeating itself over and over, along with his question of if you wanted to be trained, if you wanted to be his pet. The more you thought about it, the more you found yourself becoming desperate for it. Each day in the office was a struggle to stay focused on even the simplest of tasks, your thoughts overrun with fantasies of Joel getting you on all fours for him, giving you commands and praising you for following them, tugging you towards him by a finger hooked into a collar to tell you what a pretty puppy, what a good girl you’re being for him.
You’d left work every evening for the past several days with a damp spot in the seat of your panties, feeling ashamed by how depraved and inappropriate almost every one of your waking thoughts had become. When you would greet Joel at the door all needy and wanting, he would tease you with a “What’s gotten into you, lately, hm?”, but never push for more than you were willing to reveal to him, though he thought he might have had an idea. He would take you to the bedroom and have his way with you the way you liked, the way you had usually craved, before he had turned your world upside down by deciding on a whim to try somethin’ new that fateful night. 
Joel would be more than willing to try it again, to follow through with that question he’d asked you, but he decided he was content with waiting for you to come to him, for you to decide when you were ready for him to make you his good puppy once more.
The weekend begins just like any other. Joel’s internal clock wakes him up no later than seven in the morning, the sun just barely streaming in through the blinds in your shared bedroom. He tries to keep his creaks and groans to a minimum as he rolls out of bed, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead before quietly padding his way into the kitchen to get a sizable pot of coffee brewing. He lets you sleep for another couple of hours, knowing full and well at this point in your relationship that he has the wrath of your grumpy morning attitude to face if he doesn’t. He does think it’s cute, though, how your face twists up into a pout but your eyes stay scrunched closed if he wakes you up at a time you deem too early.
When Joel does decide it’s a sensible time for the two of you to get a proper start on your generous two days off from the slog of your weekday jobs, he cracks the bedroom door open gently, making his way over to your still-sleeping form. He softly brushes some of your knotted hair out of your face as he places your mug of coffee on the nightstand beside your head, prepared just the way you like it. Whatever happened to good ol’ fashioned cream and sugar? Or just plain black, for that matter? Can’t believe you like it with all this cinnamon vanilla whatever you have me dump in it, he had teased, not long after you had first started sleeping over at his place. Can’t believe you drink it without anything in it. It needs at least a lil’ somethin’ sweet in it, you had bantered back to him, to which he was quick to reply with Got my somethin’ sweet right here, don’t I? before pulling you into his lap and kissing you hard until both of your cups ran cold.
You smile at the memory in your half-sleepy state, slowly blinking your eyes open to see Joel’s warm and familiar smile. “Mornin’, sweet girl,” he says, his grin only growing wider when you greet him back with the cute little squeal that comes out when you stretch your arms over your head instead of an actually intelligible word. “Got some emails and borin’ stuff to catch up on this mornin’, why don’t you just stay comfy and sip on your coffee while you wake up for a bit, hm? Probably be done in time to get lunch together somewhere, how’s that sound?”
“Okay, Daddy,” you reply softly, real words this time, as you push yourself up to sitting while Joel props your pillows up behind you for your back to rest against. You don’t put up much of a fight against the yawn that stretches your jaw, rubbing your blurry eyes as it does.
“Alright, gimme a kiss, sleepy girl. Enjoy your creamer with a splash o’ coffee,'' Joel taunts through a chuckle. He presses his lips to yours, and his coarse beard tickles the skin around your mouth, making you giggle. The smile hasn’t completely faded from your face by the time he slips out of the bedroom to head into his office, shutting the door gently behind him.
Extending a hand down to your nightstand, you hook your fingers through the mug’s handle and slowly bring it up to your face, careful not to spill any. He’d chosen your favorite Daddy’s Girl mug, the phrase written in bold pink text curved over a little illustration of two blue daisies. You always thought your coffee tasted a little better from this mug, somehow. Taking your first sugary sweet sip, you think the sentiment is as true this morning as it’s always been.
A little while later, when you feel somewhat more awake thanks to plenty of caffeine and sugar working its way through your body, you finally force yourself into comfortable clothes different from the ones you slept in. With your hair sufficiently tamed, face washed, and teeth brushed, you decide now’s as good of a time as any to try and act on the plan you’d been concocting over the past couple of days, waiting for a moment just like this to pounce on.
You still felt too shy to bring it up to Joel, to tell him how badly you’ve been wanting him to treat you like his little pet, and go even further with it this time. You know he’d never judge you for it, and he had seemed to like the experiment just as much as you did. But something about your little fantasy still felt taboo and shameful, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to use your big girl words and ask for it.
Though, you had finally realized, maybe you didn’t have to ask for it. Maybe you could quietly tip toe into his office one lazy Saturday morning and sit at his feet, nuzzle into his thigh until he brings a hand down from his keyboard to scratch behind your ear, asking you What’re you up to down there, babygirl?
And that’s exactly where you’ve found yourself now, answering his question with a dreamy whimper, leaning into his touch as the feeling of his fingers on your skin makes you smile so blissfully, wiggling on your knees.
“What’s got you feelin’ so snuggly this mornin’, hm? Just need some lovin’ from your Daddy?” he asks in his still-rough morning voice, gazing down at you affectionately.
“Mmhmm,” you hum, wrapping your arms around his calf and rubbing your cheek against the soft leg of his sweatpants.
“Alright, lil’ thing. Just got a couple more emails to take care of and then I’m all yours, promise.” He removes his hand from your scalp to start typing again, and you pout in protest. 
Joel shoots a stern look down to you. “Poutin’ don’t typically get us what we want, now does it? Be patient, sweetheart, just a few more minutes.”
You release another upset noise, louder this time, and then he’s pushing his rolling chair back, your grasp around his leg coming apart as he does.
“Came in here actin’ so good and sweet, where’d this bratty girl come from, hm? If there’s somethin’ you want, gotta use your big girl words and ask for it, you know that,” he scolds, his expression becoming more serious.
You hadn’t meant to elicit this reaction from him at all, and it causes your eyes to well up as you stare at the carpet, avoiding his gaze. Opting to answer him with just a shrug, you fidget with your fingers in your lap to distract yourself from the sting behind your eyes. You do attempt to open your mouth and make your desires known to him, but think better of it, and any big girl words you did have swirling around in your brain are replaced by yet another half-hearted little whine.
A whine that sounds… a little familiar to him. 
“Oh, I see…” Joel muses, a little less authority in his voice as he assumes a more relaxed position in his desk chair. “I think I know what’s goin’ on here.”
You look up to meet his eyes, tilting your head in confusion. The action prompts his lips to tug into a knowing smile, and he leans forward in his seat, making a beckoning motion with his hand. “C’mere, baby. Between my legs.”
You obey immediately, crawling towards him to close the small distance between you, settling in a kneeling position between his spread thighs. “Good girl,” he praises, and the words make you beam as he cups your chin, the moisture that had been blooming along your water lines now forgotten.
“Think I know why my sweet girl ain’t usin’ her words with me this mornin’...” Joel says, scratching at the soft skin under your chin with his fingertips. You can’t help but lean into his touch, lashes fluttering, and it’s enough to confirm his suspicions.
“Reckon it’s because puppies don’t know to, hm? They just whimper and whine for attention from their Daddies cause they don’t know how to talk, ain’t that right?”
You let out a pathetic little noise when he finally says the word, the one that’s been dampening every pair of panties you own for the past week, but that you’d been too scared to ask to hear again. But you were right after all, you didn’t have to ask for it, because Joel always knows just what you need, somehow.
He uses his grip on your chin to nod your head up and down for you, and continues talking down to you in that gravelly tone of voice that makes you feel like you’re about to melt straight through the floor. “Yeah… ‘F you wanna be Daddy’s lil’ puppy this mornin’, tha’s alright with him. Figured you oughta be missin’ it by now, seein’ as how you liked it so much the first time around…”
You’re barely processing what he’s saying, your lips slack and eyes unblinking as your cunt releases little pulses of slick into your panties. Something about Joel seeing through you so clearly, calling you out on your newly discovered kink and using it to pull you hard and fast into this familiar saccharine headspace, has your whole body burning hot with arousal. 
“And if I know one thing about puppies, it’s that they need some trainin’, don’t they? ‘Specially impatient ones like the pretty thing I’ve got sittin’ at my feet. Don’t you agree? Don’t speak, just nod, babygirl.”
It’s unusual for him to request a nonverbal response, as opposed to a Yes, Daddy, but you’re grateful for the change as you allow yourself to fall deeper into your role. You give him what he asks for, a couple of eager nods in quick succession, even though you aren’t quite sure where he’s going with this yet.
“Asked you twice to be good and patient for Daddy, and all I got was poutin’ and whinin’ instead, didn’t I? Think my lil’ pet oughta learn her first command today: Wait. Because good puppies know how to wait for their treats, don’t they, sweet girl? Again, just nod for me.”
And you do, slower and with a little more guilt in your expression this time. But despite him making you admit to your disobedience, you’re not sure you’ve ever been more fucking soaked than you are right now. You’re throbbing, aching, shifting on your knees in an effort to get even the smallest bit of relief. You think you might be releasing little whimpers, but you can’t be sure, already feeling so floaty and far away from just his words alone.
Joel spots your desperate movements, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He shifts in his chair, adjusting for his own arousal, and gets an idea.
“On second thought… Got another command I might like to teach you first. Somethin’ a lil easier for that dumb puppy brain of yours to understand, hm?” He tilts his head at you, lips curved into a mocking pout.
Your eyes flutter and roll to the back of your head involuntarily, his degradation prompting the instinctual response from you. Another syrupy slow nod lets him know you’re ready to learn, to obey to the best of your ability.
“Alright, sweet thing. When I say paw, want you to put your hand right on my knee here, ‘kay?” Joel explains, patting his muscled leg for clarity. “Paw, baby, gimme paw,” he coos at you, his tone not dissimilar to the one he uses to speak to actual dogs. 
Forcing your brain to work through the dense cloud of submission that shrouds it, you lift your hand and place it on his knee, just like he had demonstrated. His enthusiastic reaction to your obedience startles you at first, but you break into a beaming grin when you see the proud expression he wears.
“Good girl, tha’s a good girl,” he praises, scratching at the top of your head and ruffling your hair. Using his touch as a distraction, Joel places your paw over his hardening bulge with his unoccupied hand, the thick shape of him prominent through his thin sweatpants. He tightens his hand on top of yours, prompting your fingers to squeeze him. He guides your hand into massaging him for a second or two more, long enough for your melted puddle of a brain to connect with the nerve endings in your fingers. Your breath hitches when you realize what it is you’re feeling, your blissed-out expression morphing into a more desperate, wide-eyed one as you focus your attention to the movement of your hands.
“Yeah, feel that, sweet girl? Feel what you do to Daddy by bein’ so good for him?” He prompts, and your thighs squeeze together as you grope him. You can’t help but draw your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down on it to stifle the needy whimper that threatens to escape.
“You wanna sit on it, pup? Hm? Wanna keep Daddy’s cock nice ‘n warm while he finishes up his work?”
Your aching cunt squeezes around nothing at the premise, and you nod so hard it makes you dizzy. You move to push yourself off the floor and stand up, but a firm hand on your shoulder stops you.
“Ah ah, gotta use your words this time. Speak, baby,” Joel commands, and it takes you a second of searching to find the ability to do so again.
“Y-yes, Daddy, wanna s-sit on it…” you answer softly, and you’ve never heard your own voice sound so wanton. It comes out in a pitch that you almost don’t recognize as your own, featherlight and dreamy and desperate all at once. The need in your voice alone is enough to satisfy him.
“Good girl, just learnin’ all kinds o’ tricks today, aren’t we? Trainin’ you so well… C’mon up here, babygirl,” he permits, and uses his big hands and sturdy forearms to assist you in your awkward and eager climb into his lap. “Take it out, baby, get your treat.”
You whine as you situate yourself atop his thighs, tossing your head back with a dramatic flair, overwhelmed and frustrated by all he’s been asking of you. You just wanted him to turn your brain off, to praise you, to not have to think while he plays with you however he wants, and instead all he’s been doing is asking you to listen, sit, speak, obey. But of course, you should know better by now, that Joel likes making you work for it, to wait for it.
“Hey,” he scolds, grabbing your face and pulling your head forward from where it had flopped between your shoulder blades. “You were doin’ so well, bein’ such a good, obedient girl. Don’t start actin’ up on me now. Could always change my mind, not let you have your treat after all. You want that?”
 “No, Daddy…” you admit, your words distorted through the way your cheeks are squished together. He’s not using much force, just enough to keep your focus on him. 
“‘S what I thought… Go on then, pup,” Joel commands, and you make quick but clumsy work of freeing his already leaking cock from the loose confines of his sweatpants and briefs. He lets go of your face in favor of placing both of his hands on your hips, lifting you up while you pull your loose shorts and panties to the side, maneuvering his length to just barely prod at your wet little entrance. You flit your eyes from where the two of you meet back up to meet his gaze, hesitating while you look to confirm your permission one last time.
“Sit, puppy,” he says through a smirk, and you release a sharp whimper as you sink down onto his cock. 
On instinct, you bury your face in the warm expanse of skin between Joel’s neck and shoulder, rolling your hips back in preparation for a satisfying buck forward. His grip on your skin turns iron, holding you in place and preventing you from chasing after your pleasure.
He cuts off your pout with a strict, “I say you could move?”
“Mmph– No, Daddy,” you mumble into his firm muscle.
He huffs a mocking breath through his nose. “Really are jus’ a dumb lil’ thing for me, ain’t you? You already forget what you’re ‘sposed to be learnin’?” “‘M sorry, Daddy–” the embarrassment from his demeaning words makes you squirm, and his grip on you becomes bruising.
“Don’t need you to be sorry. Jus’ need you to listen. You’re gonna wait like a good girl ‘til I say you can start grindin’ that messy lil’ puppy cunt on me. We clear?” he orders, his deep baritone traveling straight from your ear to your needy core, the dark thatch of hair at the base of his cock already damp as a result.
You hug yourself closer to him, little fingers clawing at his t-shirt in an attempt to ground yourself, and nod meekly.
“Speak,” he spits again.
“Y-yes, Daddy, clear…”, you whine, managing to lift your head up just enough for your voice to come out a little more coherently.
“If I let go so I can finish up my work, you gonna behave and hold still for me?” 
You don’t seem to have a choice, but you agree, anyway. “Mhm, yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl. Now wait,” Joel instructs.
You aren’t sure how much time passes, the incessant clicks and clacks of Joel’s keyboard and mouse becoming more and more irritating with each passing second. Those sharp mechanical sounds, the vibration of his chest against yours whenever he clears his throat, the feeling of his pulsing cock as it splits you in two, it’s all so fucking much. You can’t help but release little whimpers and whines, pathetic pleases and Daddys that he either shushes or chooses to ignore. Any slight movement you make in an attempt to relieve some of the ache, he just responds to with a coo of wait, pup, and the tone of his commands as you twitching, clenching around him, soaking his cock more and more. It has to have been at least fifteen or twenty minutes by now, and at this point you’re sure he must be clicking around his desktop aimlessly just to drag out your training a bit longer.
Eventually, the noises stop, and Joel breathes a sigh as he replaces his large hands on your hips, their touch much more gentle this time. You lift your head from his shoulder to face him, wide and watery doe eyes frantically searching his face for a sign that the wait is over, that you’ve finally earned your treat. 
He grants you a soft smile, lifting a hand and using it to just barely grasp your chin, tilting your head side to side as he admires you.
“Got such a sweet girl in my lap, don’t I? Knew she could be good, just needed a lil trainin’ hm?”
You nod, already feeling so overwhelmed that your mind has started to drift elsewhere, to the relief you’ll hopefully be feeling in just a few minutes, after he’s finished toying with you.
He releases your chin, ghosting his hand downwards along the column of your throat, stopping when his thumb and fingers are resting on the tops of your collarbones. He doesn’t apply any pressure, just admires the placement of his hand for a moment, then hums.
“Neck would look so pretty with a collar wrapped around it, don’t you think, pup? With a lil’ heart-shaped tag danglin’ from it, engraved with my name so everyone knows that you belong to me? That you’re my puppy, hm?”
Fuck.
The sentiment alone, the domination and ownership of it all, has you crying out your most pathetic noise so far this morning, eyebrows peaked with need as you bite down on your lip so hard you think you might’ve drawn blood. Joel predicts your reaction, clamping down on your hip with his other hand to stop you from moving before he’s decided you’re allowed to.
Again, you nod, willing to agree to anything and everything he wants from you if it means you’re getting closer to getting what you want from him, what you need.
“Say it, baby,” Joel demands of you, his voice calm but commanding.
You tilt your head at him, humming a confused little noise, but he doesn’t elaborate. “Say it, c’mon,” he repeats. Your foggy brain is on a second or two delay, but it catches up eventually, and you realize what he wants to hear.
“I’m y-your… ‘m your puppy,” you say, softly, your voice tinted with embarrassment. 
“Wha’s that, sweetheart? Didn’t quite hear you. One more time for Daddy.”
You swallow hard, inhaling a shuddering breath before repeating the phrase a little louder, with a little less control. “I’m your p-puppy, Daddy. I’m your puppy, ‘m Daddy’s–”
“Yeah, y’ are, fuck.”
He moves his hand from the base of your neck back to your hip, and uses his strong grip to hold you still while he begins a series of sharp but rewarding thrusts in and out of your swollen cunt, each one seeming to hit deeper and deeper inside you. Falling against him once more, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and bury your face into him while you let him fuck into you like a doll. His movements are quick and desperate as he growls an incoherent string of filthy praises in your ear, his words accompanied by the sloppy wet sounds of skin on skin.
“Perfect girl, Christ, tight lil’ puppy pussy feels so fuckin’ good, always feels so fuckin’ good. Such a good girl, such a good goddamn girl for Daddy.”
The harsh bounce of your body in his lap jostles every last one of your thoughts from your brain, and he relishes in the animalistic cries and yelps you mumble into the flesh of your upper arm, now damp with your drool. He must feel the moisture as it pools underneath your face and wets the thin fabric of his t-shirt, because then he’s laughing at you, spewing more obscene words at you as he spears you up and down on his cock.
“Shit, are you fuckin’ droolin’ on me, sweetheart? Got this messy cunt and that pretty mouth both soakin’ me, Christ. This cock make you that dumb, hm? You Daddy’s dumb puppy?”
You are, you both fucking know you are, so you agree and repeat it back to him to the best of your fucked-out ability because you know it’s what he wants to hear. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to hear it too, the self-degradation lighting your whole body on fire as some of that heat forms itself into a tight ball in your tummy. 
Joel’s hips begin to stutter, his hold on you starting to falter, complete sentences turning into sharply whispered expletives as he nears his orgasm. He can feel you squeezing around him, notices the telltale sign of your muscles tightening and your breathing coming out in short bursts, and uses that four letter word against you one last time.
“Not yet, babygirl, don’t you fuckin’ come for me, not ‘til I say. Wait,” he spits through gritted teeth.
You were so ready, just teetering on the edge of your orgasm, all you needed was a few more jackhammering thrusts and you’d be careening down the steep cliff of it. It takes everything in you to hold it in, to not let go. But you’ve been so good for him, and Joel doesn’t have it in him to torture you much longer, and he permits you to finish just a few minutes later.
“Alright, come, puppy, come for Daddy,” he orders, and you spasm in his lap with a debauched cry, that ball of heat in your tummy dispersing through your bloodstream, igniting every one of your nerves and sending sparks flying behind your eyelids. He reaches his high at the same time, spilling his release inside of you the way you both like.
It takes a few moments for the both of you to come back into yourselves, heaving chests eventually matching each other in a more relaxed rhythm. Joel softly scratches at the back of your head while you place delicate kisses mindlessly along his neck and up behind his ear.
“You were so good, sweetheart. Always take everything I give you so well,” Joel quietly praises next to your ear. He touches his lips to the side of your head, then your temple, then gently maneuvers your face so that he can press a final kiss to your forehead. Your eyelids flutter open in response, and your lips tug into a sleepy grin as you focus on his face. “There she is, my beautiful girl.” He sweeps a few tangled locks of hair away from your face, and even though you know you must look like a mess, you let him admire you anyway.
“Still up to go out for some lunch? After we get ourselves cleaned up ‘n all,” Joel asks, shifting his gaze down to where his spend leaks from you, staining both of your clothes a darker color and dripping onto the fabric of his desk chair.
You pause, chewing on the inside of your cheek for a bit before shaking your head.
“No? Tha’s alright, sweet girl, don’t blame you one bit. You’ll still let Daddy get you cleaned up though, won’t you sweetheart? How’s about I run you a bath with some o’ that new flowery bubble bath you just got, hm?”
You light up at the premise, nodding eagerly, and Joel flashes his handsome smile at you in return. “Alright, hang onto me, baby,” he says, and you wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders as he scoops you up and carries you to the bedroom, his softening cock still nestled inside you. The two of you detach when he sets you down on the small, handmade wooden bench adjacent to the tub, and leaves only for a moment to retrieve your favorite pink blanket from the living room. He wraps it around your shoulders when he returns, and starts the bath for you. He makes sure to squeeze a generous amount of the bubble bath into the roaring stream of water, ensuring that the bath is sufficiently fragrant and relaxing.
When the tub is full, with mounds of white soap bubbles threatening to spill over the smooth porcelain walls, he helps you strip out of your clothes, tugging your bottoms down your legs as you remove your own top over your head. Joel offers you one of his hands to steady yourself with as you step into the bath and lower yourself into the steaming water. It feels perfect, because just like he knows exactly how you take your coffee, how you want to be fucked without you having to ask, he also knows the almost-too-hot temperature of bathwater you prefer. 
He allows you to wash your own body, while he uses the cup you keep by the tub to douse your hair with water, using his rough fingertips to massage your favorite coconut shampoo into your scalp. You’re almost done scrubbing yourself by the time he’s raking conditioner through your damp ringlets, and then he’s rinsing you clean, the humid air in the room now smelling like a dozen different flowers and fruits, all of them mixing together to smell definitively like you. It’s his favorite scent in the whole world.
You don’t exchange many words during your bath, mostly enjoying the intimacy of the activity in silence. The action alone is enough to let you know how deeply the two of you care for each other, how much you trust and love each other.
When the water eventually runs cool, Joel helps you out of the slippery tub, and wraps you in one of your plush bath towels, a lighter shade of pink than your blanket, but just as soft.
“I’ll let you finish up in here, and I’ll see about orderin’ us some delivery, hm? I’ll get you whatever you want, and we can throw on a movie to watch while we eat, how’s that sound?”
“Sounds good, Daddy,” you reply, the bath leaving you feeling refreshed and more like yourself, able to find your voice again.
You settle on ordering your favorite fast food, and it arrives shortly before you tiptoe your way into the living room, your wet hair now pulled up into a clip while the rest of you is dry and comfortable, wrapped in a soft lounge set and your cozy blanket.
“There she is, the Poky Lil’ Puppy,” Joel teases, removing your containers of chicken tenders and fries from the plastic bag they arrived in, setting them on the coffee table in front of the couch.
You giggle at his quip, settling down on the cushion next to him. “I’m not… poky, or whatever,” you reply, in a tone of voice that isn’t sure if you’re supposed to feel complimented or offended.
He looks at you in minor disbelief for a second, then moves his head and brows in a gesture that suggests something like touché. “It’s the name of a kids’ book. Written a lil’ before your time, I guess.”
“Oh… I’ll take it, then.” You settle against Joel’s warm, sturdy form as you munch on a fry, watching the TV screen as he flips through the most promising of the half dozen streaming services he’s subscribed to. “You know…” you start, but let the rest of your sentence drift away, not sure if you want to continue.
“Yeah, babygirl?” he replies, and it encourages you to finish your thought.
“I really liked, um… what we did today. Earlier,” you continue, doing your best to push through your shyness in an effort to get better at communicating your desires with him.
Joel pauses his browsing, putting the TV remote on the table so he can meet your eyes. “In my office, you mean?”
You can’t help but smile cheekily at the memory. “Yeah… I really like being called… that, I think. And if you don’t think it’s too weird–”
“Course I don’t, sweetheart. Would never judge you for likin’ what you like. If it makes you happy, makes you feel good, if it ain’t hurtin’ anyone, then there’s nothin’ wrong with it, baby.” Joel’s turned his upper body to face you now, to make sure you understand the sincerity of his words.
You smile, and his reassurance gives you the confidence to continue. “I really like that… collar idea,” you admit softly. “Maybe we can try that next time.”
He tucks his tongue into the pocket of his cheek, his face forming into a satisfied expression. “Thought you might. Keep bein’ Daddy’s good girl, he just might get you one. Maybe a matchin’ leash, too, somethin’ to tug on when I need you to listen.”
Your eyelids perform their involuntary flutter, a quiet whimper escaping your lungs at the thought. 
“Alright, settle down now, baby,” Joel says through a chuckle, shaking his head before kissing the top of your head affectionately. “Got all the time in the world to try whatever we want. Just focus on eatin’ your lunch for now, sweetheart.”
You snuggle up close to him after he starts the movie you both decided on, happily eating your salty and savory meal as you watch. For the rest of the afternoon, you feel warm and satisfied for a few different reasons, the most important one due to how grateful you are to have Joel.
He takes care of you, understands you, and loves you like nobody else ever could. And it’s mornings like these that make you especially aware of that fact. You’ll be his good girl for as long as he wants you to be–forever, hopefully–and he’ll always give you exactly what you need in exchange for it. 
Even if that something might be a collar with his name on it, fit for his perfect little puppy.
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tag list (no pressure if this one isn't your thing!!) @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw (if your name is crossed out it won't let me tag you!!)
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kooktrash · 1 year
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a little thing called jealousy | jeon jungkook drabble
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ugh okay I’m sorry I tried making it a bit more of an argument but I just can’t give this couple angst 😭
anyway, 2.9k straight fluff. a little bit of jealous Koo and they’re both clingy af
READ STORY HERE
Jungkook will be the first to admit that this was really all his doing. His homebody girlfriend would have preferred to stay in tonight and he would’ve loved to join you but this was Hoseok. Your shared friend Hoseok was having people over and he begged and begged Jungkook to get you to come out. He wanted to have a fun night with his girlfriend too so of course he was going to beg you to come out, right?
Well… apparently he’s an idiot.
You’re having fun alright, you’ve been drinking a bit and he’s happily taken the liberty of being sober tonight so he could still drive home but unfortunately for him that meant he was very aware of the things happening around him. For instance, you talking to some guy who you apparently knew. Jungkook is not the jealous type, he’s never been because he’s never had a reason to be. It’s been known for a while now that he could get a girl if he wanted to and you’ve been the only one in his life to make him really work for it and for that he’s thankful. You helped him be able to fully explore what he felt toward you until it was all he could think about and now he’s obsessed with you. He’s not the jealous type…
“Where’s Y/n?” Sungha asked coming over to him after watching him sulk on Hobi’s couch like there weren’t at least thirty people around him getting drunk. Jungkook shrugged, “She’s talking to someone.”
“Who?” Sungha asked, looking around with a smile on her face, “Oh! That’s Jisoo, wow, I haven’t seen him in a long time.”
Jungkook turned his attention to her, “Wait, you know him too? Who is he?”
“Uh,” Sungha thought for a moment, “He’s Y/n’s ex but It’s been years since we last saw him. Last I heard he moved to Tokyo for some time, he must’ve just gotten back.”
“Y/n’s ex?” Jungkook asked looking back to you and you felt his stare, turning to him and giving him a soft smile that made Jisoo look at him too, “I thought all her ex boyfriends were shitty.”
“All but Jisoo,” Sungha shrugged, not noticing the way Jungkook’s leg began to bounce anxiously and his lip caught between his teeth, “But it was so long ago and we were all young so it makes sense that there’s no hard feelings there.”
“I’ll be back,” Jungkook said in a rush as he hopped off the couch and practically ran over to where you were.
Your breath hitched as firm arms wrapped around your waist pulling you flush against their back and for a second you couldn’t think of who it was. You’ve been drinking all night and when you get like that you tend to just talk and talk and forget everything else. It wasn’t until you felt Jungkook place small kisses along your neck that you smiled, “Hey.”
“Hey,” Jungkook whispered into your eye as he kissed you one last time before looking at Jisoo, “I’ve been waiting for you to remember I was here too.”
Your brows seemed to furrow in confusion. You’ve only been away from him for at most five minutes. You had seen Jisoo from across Hobi’s apartment and you wanted to see how he was doing. You dated when you were 17 and it was so long ago and now you were both adults so clearly there were things to catch up on. It had been a mutual break up and since you were young it didn’t hold too much meaning so in truth you thought nothing of it.
“Jisoo this is Jungkook,” you introduced them to each other casually, Jungkook was busy kissing your neck lovingly for you to pay attention without squirming. You tried moving his hands off you because he was beginning to squeeze you a bit too much but he wouldn’t let up.
“Her boyfriend,” Jungkook clarified and you could hear the harshness in his tone. You smiled, “Yeah.”
“Good to meet you man,” Jisoo said missing the way Jungkook glared at him and he looked to you, “Alright, I haven’t had a chance to talk to Sungha or Jimin so I’m gonna go find them.”
“Yeah, go do that,” Jungkook said as you finally freed yourself from your boyfriend’s death grip. Jisoo’s brows scrunched together in confusion but he still smiled and waved you both goodbye.
“You having fun?” You asked him, slurring on your words a bit as you felt his hand go back to you waist not letting you get far from him without holding onto you. He shook his head no, “You ditched me.”
You laughed softly, still not processing how he was feeling in your drunken state, “I was just talking to Jisoo. I haven’t seen him in year—“
“Yeah and he’s your ex boyfriend that you ditched your current boyfriend to see,” Jungkook said following you down the hall toward the bathroom, stepping on the back of your shoe on accident.
You shook your head, “Yeah sorry, we ended up talking about his work so…”
You cut yourself off when you felt him step on your shoe once again but this time your foot actually lifted and it kind of hurt. “Ow!”
“Sorry,” Jungkook mumbled, “Can I go with you?”
“Where?” You asked before it dawned on you, “To the bathroom?” He nodded his head eagerly and you released a sigh, “Sure.”
You let him in and as you tried using the bathroom Jungkook distracted himself by rummaging through Hobi’s things. You hurried up to finish and you practically had to push him to the side to get to the sink. When you left, he was right there trying to hug you like you weren’t trying to walk and it was beginning to be a bit much. You were a little drunk and when you drink you tend to get hot and with him trying to hold you and step on you, you were starting to get a little annoyed. What was his deal?
He followed you into Hobi’s kitchen where you left in search of something to drink other than alcohol. Jungkook wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you into him before you could even grab a drink, “Can we leave yet?”
“We just got here not that long ago,” you told him, feeling him begin to kiss along your neck again.
“Yeah but you’ve been ignoring me all night and I just want to lay in bed with my girlfriend an—“
“Jungkook!” You groaned when he accidentally pushed you too close to the counter in an attempt to follow you even if you didn’t move and made you hit your hip against the corner, “Ow!”
“Sorry,” he rushed out to say, hand down on your hip to try and soothe the pain but you were annoyed and drunk and hot.
You released a huff in annoyance, “Jeez, you’ve stepped on me and now you made me hit the counter, can you give me some space?”
“Y/n—“
“No, I’m starting to get annoyed,” you said pushing past him, “And I haven’t been ignoring you. I’ve been with you all night, I only left for like five minutes so stop being so clingy.”
Jungkook’s jaw couldn’t help but tense up at that as he looked down at you. You really did look annoyed and typically Jungkook would apologize and do what you asked but he felt annoyed too. How was he supposed to feel when you left him to talk to your ex boyfriend, “Fine, go do whatever you want then, I’ll be waiting in the car.”
Before you could say anything you watched him storm off angrily and just before you could get to him, Sungha and Jimin were calling you over. You walked over to them reluctantly, “Hey.”
“Hey, where’s Kook?” Jimin asked offering you another drink but you refused it. “I don’t know… he went to the car?”
“Why?”
“I think he’s ready to go, I’ll probably just say goodbye to Hobi and Jisoo and leave too,” you told them apologetically, “He’s acting weird, and I got a little mad at him.”
“Y/n… what happened?” Sungha asked making you shrug.
“I don’t know, he was fine earlier and then when I was talking to Jisoo he just came over and got super clingy and…” you paused in thought, “Oh…”
Sungha’s smile dropped, “Oops, that might’ve been my fault. I told him about Jisoo being your ex and he got up a little upset.”
“Sungha!” Jimin yelled, “They dated for a month when they were seventeen! Why would you tell him that?”
“I don’t know!” Sungha panicked, “I didn’t think it was a big deal. Jungkook never gets jealous!”
You released a huff, feeling exhausted and a little more sober now, “Alright, I’m gonna go talk to him, bye.”
You practically ran out to Jungkook’s car and when you found him inside he was slumped over his phone, pout evident on his face.
“Ready?” You asked him shyly, wondering how you could talk about it and if he really was upset. He didn’t give you a verbal response, only nodded his head as he started the car.
You cleared your throat awkwardly, “I think I drank too much.”
Jungkook didn’t respond once again as he drove quietly, not even music playing and you felt the need to keep going, “Thank you for getting me to come out tonight. Next time I’ll drive and you can get drunk, alright?”
Jungkook just nodded as he drove. His feelings were very obviously hurt. He didn’t mean to step on you or making you hit the counter but he was anxious. The second he learned Jisoo was your ex he felt his anxiety shoot up and he just needed a little reassurance from you.
It’s just… it took him so long to get you to even think about him romantically. He put in so much work for the two of you to be where you are and he genuinely thinks he’s in love with you. He can’t help but feel hurt knowing your ex can come out of nowhere and have all your attention right away and if you’re still on good terms then who's to say there’s not still lingering feelings there? He doesn’t want to lose you when he just got you.
Tonight Jungkook was staying over at your place even if he was a little mad at how you yelled at him when he just wanted to be with you. Even mad he wanted to spend the night with you so obviously he was going to follow you.
“Koo,” you said softly as you followed him up to your own apartment. Jungkook waited quietly for you to unlock the door and you had to repeat yourself, “Are you hungry? Should I put a pizza in the oven?”
“If you want,” Jungkook shrugged as he threw himself on your couch sullenly. You released a small sigh, “Do you want water?”
“Sure.”
He didn’t mean to brush you off but he really was upset. Maybe he’s overthinking it but it really was hard to get you to like him back and he’s just worried… he doesn’t want you to realize that you could probably do better than him.
“Jungkook,” you used his full name now as you set the glass down on the coffee table and made him sit up. Without thinking you planted yourself on his neck but he couldn’t even look at you, “Hey.”
“Hm?”
“Are you mad at me?”
“A little,” he admitted, not wanting to bottle this feeling up, “I didn’t mean to be too clingy but you yelled at me in front of everyone and… and you didn’t even introduce me to your ex as your boyfriend. It’s like you didn’t want him to know.”
You shook your head sadly, “No, it’s not like tha—“
“Then what is it, Y/n? You ditch me to talk to your ex boyfriend then get mad at me for wanting to be with you?” Jungkook felt a bit annoyed now, “Sometimes I still feel like I’m just a bother to you and you just can’t wait to get rid of me.”
“What?” You looked genuinely taken back as you turned to straddle his lap, his hands absentmindedly finding your waist even if he was mad, “No, baby, it’s not like that. I love being with you, I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap on you. I know you didn’t mean it, and I’m sorry for ditching you but Jisoo and I…”
Jisoo and I? Great… Jungkook thought, he felt his anxiety spike up and couldn’t help but move you off his lap, too distracted with you so close. You released a small sigh, “I mean, we only dated for a month. It was nothing serious, we tried to see where it would go but we were 17 and better off as friends. Him and I never meant anything.”
Jungkook was up, trying to find a way to distance himself so you wouldn’t see how hurt he was. Maybe he was being dramatic but what if now that you’re adults you want to try it again with Jisoo? What will happen to him if you do?
“Jungkook…” you whined as you hopped off the couch, surprising him by wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him from behind, “Please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you there, I’m sorry.”
Jungkook took a deep breath, feeling his anger slowly dissipate but he needed to stay strong. You yelled at him and you were mean, it wasn’t fair.
He tried to talk but you only clung to him harder, “Kooky, look at me please.”
He took a deep breath, hand going over yours as you hugged him, “I’m upset.”
“I know,” you told him honestly as you moved to hug his front, feeling his arms slowly come up to your waist, “I’m sorry, I don’t want you thinking I want to be with anyone but you. I’m serious, I feel really bad.”
Jungkook huffed in defeat as his hand came up to the back of your head, “Are you going to yell at me like that again?”
“No!” You said feeling hopeful, looking up at him like he was the moon and stars, “I mean it. I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”
“Mm,” he released a sigh as he thought about it, “Was I really being too much?”
“No! No,” you should your head, “No, I get it now. I was ignoring you and you just wanted to be with me but I got mad. No, I love when you get like that, it makes me feel wanted.”
“Of course I want you!” He said suddenly, “Baby, I’ve never felt that way before… I just felt scared that you would realize that you only began dating me because I basically pressured you to and seeing someone you used to have feelings for made you reali—“
“Jungkook, I love you.”
He froze, words getting caught in his throat, “You do?”
You nodded cutely, still hugging him tightly, “Of course I do, you’re the sweetest guy I’ve ever met! And you’re so cute and funny and I want to be with you all the time even if I suck at showing it. I’m sorry for making you feel like I would leave you, that’s not right. I want to be with you and only you, nobody else, please don’t be mad at me. I don’t like it.”
Jungkook brushed your hair out of your face as he thought about it for a second, “I’m so in love with you, Y/n. So fucking in love that I’m feeling things I’ve never felt before and I don’t know how to respond to this new jealousy feeling.”
“I’m in love with you,” you repeated and this time around he felt his heart burst into millions of butterflies, “And I’m so sorry.”
“Ugh,” he huffed out, “I can’t be mad at you even if I tried.”
“But it’s okay if you are,” you told him honestly — and cutely that he had to smile — “I don’t blame you for getting mad if I’ve done something to upset you. Don’t feel like you always have to be happy with me and let me have my way.”
“Okay,” he kissed the tip of your nose, “But I love you too much to stay mad.”
“Koo!” You whined, stomping your foot a little as you tried to pull away, “You can’t always be happy with me—“
“I can’t help it,” he whined too, cheeks flushing red at how cute he thought you were, “I was just being dramatic.”
“No, you weren’t, I was in the wron—“ you ended with a small squeal as Jungkook picked you up.
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Jungkook finally said, “For now let’s get to bed and let me cuddle you.”
“I’m sorry for earlier,” you said, legs wrapping around his waist on instinct, practically clinging to him, “Seriously.”
“I know,” Jungkook smiled, “And if you really want to make it up to me then you can get your cute butt in bed and go to sleep.”
“So you’re not mad at me anymore?” You asked with a small yawn as he made it into your room and set you down gently on your bed. He went ahead and closed the door, shutting you into darkness as he joined you, “No, baby, I love you too much to stay mad.”
“I love you more,” you said and you felt disgusted by your own cheesiness.
He smiled though, loving every second of it, “No, I love you more.”
“Not true.”
“Yes true.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No—“
“Yes! Now go to sleep.”
::.
ugh I just genuinely feel like they can’t stay mad at each other for long
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1K notes · View notes
i-wanna-write · 29 days
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If One’s Different, One’s Bound to be Lonely - Wolverine Fic - Part 1
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Fic Synopsis: We know Wolverine and Sabertooth but the reader is known as Jackal. Just like the other two, their mutation is animalistic, lending them healing factors, enhanced physical abilities, and animal senses. This fic details their relationship with the Anchor!Wolverine and how they ended up meeting the Worst!Logan
Chapter Warnings: violence, cussing, lewd comments/thoughts, reader is described as female
Word Count: 3k+
A/N: I’ve had this idea since I saw Deadpool and Wolverine so I figured I’d give it a go! I wanted to write Worst!Logan and SacredTimeline!Reader but wanted some backstory. Well, the backstory turned into backstories which then turned into this mini fic. Not sure how many parts there will be but no more than 10. This will start from when the reader was born, through snippets of the X-Men movies before FINALLY making its way to D&P. There's obviously going to be changes in scenes due to the reader and it's a fic so I can change what I want! I also love how Wolverine and Sabertooth are brothers in Origins so went with that. The timeline is also a little sketchy because D&W is set in 2024 and Logan 2029 but they discuss how Logan died already… so just bear with me on that… Let me know what you think!
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You were born in 1895 to two loving parents. They were older than the average parents, having struggled to conceive but finally being blessed with you. You were their pride and joy, providing you with all the clothes, toys, furniture, games, and literature you wanted.
You were a secluded child. You preferred being alone and were grateful for being an only child. You hated sharing your things and talking to others.
You were also a sick and frail child. You always caught a cold or broke a bone, or got a scratch. Your parents dragged you to numerous doctors, trying to find a reason for your ailments. It wasn’t until you hit puberty that the truth was revealed.
You were a mutant.
Your genetics carried an X gene and had different DNA then your parents.
A week laid up in bed with a constant fever, sweats, and chills, it was finally revealed when your fingernails elongated into claws, the rest of your baby teeth spilling out and adults ones replacing them. Only they were all razor sharp and could easily shred anything.
Your parents were hysterical at first. They prayed and waited for their miracle child but were terrified at first to learn that she was a mutant.
That she was different.
Your sense of sight was keener than the average human, you heard like a bat, your smell like a bloodhound. You no longer got sick. If you received an injury it healed in a matter of seconds.
Your parent’s initial fear turned into protectiveness and soon you were shut in - no longer allowed all the things you wanted. Your parents kept you at home, not letting you mingle with others your age in fear of something happening to you… Or you doing something to someone else.
As you grew older, you finally escaped your parents and never looked back. You moved around, being adaptable and able to change at any given moment and go with the flow of the environment. You were cunning and evaded anyone or thing you wanted to without thinking twice. And just like in childhood, you grew to be more territorial. You valued all your personal items and were always willing to defend what you called yours.
Through much research over your first years on your own - you were able to determine that all these traits were similar to that of an animal.
A Jackal.
Known for the same personality traits of your own, this dog breed also sported sharp teeth in all regions of their mouth and just as sharp claws to take down their prey. Soon, that's what you became known as.
You moved through the years alone, never staying in one place for more than a year due to the world's hate towards mutants. You often found secluded cabins and would purchase what you needed at a store, then hunted on your own for protein - using your abilities to your advantage.
If someone caused a problem for you, a man making a sexist comment. Someone shit talking other mutants. You didn’t hesitate to take them out. Your instincts would take over in that moment and your claws would disembowel them or your teeth rip out their throat.
Sometime during the 1950s, you were staying in a Montana cabin you found, the nearest town miles away. Occasionally, you would frequent a bar there, wanting a moment to feel the whiskey slide down. It was in that bar that you met two other mutants for the first time.
You were seated alone at a table in the tavern, dressed in slacks, a button shirt, and jacket, A cap was on your head, hiding your long hair to make it appear short. Making you appear like a man.
You were nursing a whisky on the rocks, allowing the liquid to burn your throat and sooth your day. The bar wasn’t too busy, filled with men after a day of work. Two were seated at the bar, another alone at a table than solely the bartender handing out drinks.
You smelt them before they entered. One smelt like copper, the other smoke. As they entered and made their way to the bar, you examined their appearance. Both dressed in jeans and dark jackets, the copper one appeared shorter but with broader shoulders. His hair was buzzed to his head with stubble lining his jaw. He moved with confidence, acting as he owned the establishment and everyone should part for him to make way.
The smoky one was taller, shoulders not as wide but perhaps weighing more due to his height. His hair was longer, curling behind his ears towards his neck with tufts on either side. His jaw was also lined in stubble, but rather than walking like he owned the place, he walked with ease, as if he knew people were staring but could care less about it.
Your eyes followed them as they ordered, noting how the other patrons seemed to watch them too, as if all of you were aware that they could be dangerous. You returned your attention back to your drink when you got a whiff of something you haven’t before. Despite their initial scents, they both smelt off - different than all the other humans you’ve been around your life. They smelt… almost wild.
You were taken from your thoughts when the seat across from you suddenly became occupied. You looked up and saw the two men seated across from you, both with a drink in hand. The shorter one spread his body on the chair, his left arm around the taller ones.
“What’s a woman like you doing in here?” The shorter one asked, nodding his head towards you.
“Women?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow.
So far, no one has been able to distinguish your true gender. How could these new patrons know?
“Can smell the difference Bub.” The taller one said as if it was obvious.
While his companion was spread out, the larger man surprisingly took up a smaller space. His forearms rested on the table, fingers clasped in front.
“Smell?” You repeated, feigning ignorance.
“Come on Frail. We can smell you’re a woman and smell you’re a mutant like us, quit playing stupid.” The shorter one growled, a look of anger on his face. “Never met a woman mutant like us though.” He added a malicious smirk on his lips. He turned to look at the other one, as if wanting him to comment as well but to no avail.
You’ve never met another mutant before. Period.
“Well, pleased to have checked that box off your list.” You smile, quickly finishing your drink before slamming it on the table, rising to flee. “Have a good night gentlemen.”
One of them smelling like blood and acting as he did, you knew they were trouble - and you’ve avoided trouble for so long the past years you weren’t about to start getting into it. You went to leave but the taller man grabbed your arm suddenly, claw like knives slowly breaking the skin of his knuckles and leaving them, puncturing your skin.
“We weren’t finished talking.” He said, finally showing some emotion as a smile graced his face.
You quickly yanked your arm back, watching as your skin healed itself, blood now stained on the sleeve of your jacket.
“Have a seat frail,” The shorter one added, smirk still on his face. “We want to get to know you.”
You sat back down. You wish you didn’t finish your whiskey as you tired to make your escape, no longer having something to fiddle in your hands.
You look up at the men and see them both staring back at you, as if taking you in. You know what they see. A woman with H/C hair hidden underneath a hat with just enough to be seen on your forehead. Eyebrows to match that have strands out of place and eyelashes that prissy girls would kill for circling your E/C eyes.
You do the same, truly taking in the men if they’re going to be talking with you. Assessing you. Determining if you’re a threat or not.
You observe the shorter one first, seeing him as the larger threat of the two. His eyebrows are bushy despite his short hair and has wrinkles on his forehead. He continued to wear a malicious smile and has subtle dimples on either side but they make him appear menacing rather than childlike. His eyes are green and hold a dark tint, as if he’s thinking about fucking you or killing you. Maybe both.
You move to look at the taller one and notice that his expression is almost unreadable, except his mouth is curled up slightly in a snarl. His eyes are a deep brown, holding only mistrust and curiosity, as if solely reading everything about you. His bottom his lip is full, the top one smaller but shaped perfectly despite the snarl.
“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” The shorter one repeats, raising an eyebrow.
“Drinking. What else do you do in a tavern?” You bite back, shooting him a dark look.
He looks around as if debating his answer before saying, “Some drink.” He shrugs. “Others bring a girl in and fuck her in the bathroom.”
You grimace at the thought of doing that act with him. You’d pick the taller one if it was between life and death if you had to choose. At least the taller one looks like he’d make it quick.
“I’m sure you have to drag them back there as no women would glance your way.”
You know you shouldn’t egg him on but you can’t help it. You have just as sharp of a bite to back up your bark and you’re not afraid to use it. Even if it’s against two other feral mutants.
“Hmph.” The man says.
You watch as he reaches his right hand out, going for a handshake. His hand resembles a paw, his nails replaced with claws and sharp as knives. Your eyes travel to his face and now notice how his canines are sharper than an average humans. Perhaps attributed to his mutation.
“Victor Creed. This runt is my brother James Howlett.” He finally introduced.
Two can play at this game.
You elongate your own nails, showing off your claws. You then smile, teeth sharpening to show off points on all of them, not just your canines. You reach over and clasp his hand in your own.
“Y/N L/N.” You tell them, causing him to smile wider.
You let go of his his hand and look at the other one. “I’m not shaking your hand since you already sliced me, asshole.”
He merely shrugs. “Not offended Bub.”
This time you notice how deep and gruff his voice it. It sends goosebumps throughout you and you hope neither can notice it.
“What do you two want?” You ask, switching your gaze between them.
“Like I said, never met a female frail before. And based on your reaction, guessing you've never met another mutant ever.” Victor says.
It’s your turn to shrug. “I like being alone and keeping to myself.” Simple and to the point.
“Why’s that? Afraid you’re gonna kill someone with those claws? Too weak to fight off the instinct to sink your teeth into their neck?” Victor leans forward, looking intently at you for your answer.
He’s right. Of course he is, having hit the nail on the coffin. You’re a loner by mutation and learned that being around others only causes harm by your hand. It’s better to be alone and comfortable, rather then surrounded by prey.
“So what if I am? Can still take your ass down.” You say nonchalantly, trying not to appear bothered by how easily he read you.
He laughs, it sounding hoarse and dry. “I’d like to see you try.”
“Somehow I think you’d enjoy that. Don’t wanna end up in the bathroom with you.” You retort back.
You notice then how the taller one barely talks. He seems to have an air of indifference around him. Like he’s just here because Victor is and has no interest in the conversion. Or you.
“Tell me, how old are you? Gotta be young if you’ve never met another mutant before.”
You watch as he takes a sip of his whiskey, again upset at yourself for downing yours. You think about stealing James due to his lack of participation but think better of it, not wanting him to slice you again.
“I was born in 1895.” You reveal, holding your gaze with Victors.
“Awe Jimmy.” He coos, bumping his elbow into his brothers arm. “She’s just a kitten compared to us.”
You growl at that, not liking the mocking tone. This man was starting to get on your nerves. His gaze keeps drifting down to your chest, as if he has x-ray vision to see your breasts. The other isn’t giving anything and you wish he would, seeming to be the more sane one of the two. If you take out the part where he cut you.
“What? You guys my long lost grandfathers or something trying to bring me home?” You question, arching an eyebrow.
They looked to be your age but based on what Victor has said and you’ve seen, their mutations really are similar to yours. You wouldn’t be surprised if they were older than you. You want to know more about them - you have to. The first people like you since you’ve discovered you're a mutant. Maybe you won't feel so lonely anymore due to your difference form others
“1831 and 1835.” James finally speaks, lowering his whiskey from his mouth.
“Doesn’t answer if you are my grandfathers.” You point out.
“Not your grandfather frail. Quite trying to be cute.” Victor cuts in. “Now, based on your claws and teeth, you’re definitely like us, not just by scent. So what? You got some wolf? Some crocodile? You hiding scales underneath those clothes?”
You laugh, your voice light in the air before you remember where you are and what you’re pretending to be.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You snap back, baring all your canines at him.
“She’s a Jackal Vic.” James says. “Hates being around others. Easily blends into her environment. Able to will her nails to claws and all teeth shape as canines. Makes sense”.
“One point to brains.” You point to James, winking at him. “Zero points to brawn.” You point to Victor.
Said man goes to speak but you don’t let him, continuing. “You’ve got your own set of claws and canines. You’ve been trying to manipulate me and the situation this entire time, proving your cunningness. And you seem to try to include James here, I’m assuming your younger brother, into the conversion because you value family. Making you similar to a Sabertooth.” Something you thought you might’ve been before discovering your similarities with a Jackal.
Victor raises his eyebrows in surprise, not thinking you’d be able to guess their own mutation like James had yours.
“Meanwhile,” you turn to James, “You seem to hate being around other people as much as me. Your quiet but observe everything around you, making sure you have an escape. You were able to debunk what my mutation was, suggesting you’re smart. If I didn’t see your claws earlier, I would’ve guessed you to be a Jackel like me.” You finish.
You watch as James leans forward, both arms resting on the table as his face gets closer to you. You stare into the deep brown and feel yourself getting lost for just a moment before being pulled back.
“So what does that make me?” He questions, curious of your conclusion.
“A wolverine.” You state.
With that reveal, you make your escape. You quickly exit the table, knowing this time to not walk by it as you exit the tavern. You push open the door with one hand and start to pick up your pace. There are people lingering outside and you don’t want to draw attention.
You reach the edge of the forest, taking the cap from your head and letting your H/C locks free. You run a hand through them, trying to catch your thoughts and slow your heart rate at the run-in you just had.
You two sets of footsteps rush up behind you and take a breath, smelling Victor and James. A hand reaches out and lands on your shoulder but you immediately grab it, turning to your right to face your attacker.
A crack is heard throughout the first floor as you break Victor’s arm and don’t hesitate. Your teeth elongate to canines, your face moving to his neck and grabbing it. You bite down, blood immediately rushing into your mouth as you grab a chunk out of him.
You let go and push him away, watching as he staggers back and James stands at his side, hands in his pocket. You spit the flesh out of your mouth and grin at both men.
“If you guys have heard anything about the Jackal, you’ll know to leave me the fuck alone.”
You leave it at that, turning on your heel and walking off into the forest, leaving an angered Victor and impressed James behind you.
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Stay tuned for Part 2!
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anti-anti-vents · 3 months
Text
All this discourse has me remembering things
Like, how as a young kid, before I had the words for it, I was writing HELLA darkfic. Like at 10-12 years old, I was writing the most fucked up shit I could think of. Stuff antis would consider “pedophilic”, such as (real example, trigger warning) a world in which young girls were raised in isolation, given numbers instead of names, sold to adult men as soon as they hit puberty, and losing value with each year they gained, ABS eventually being killed at 17 if they’d not yet been bought.
Yeah, it’s really not any wonder that I ended up destroying all of these writings, never sharing or completing any of them. At 10 years old, long before I was aware of this debate, I was already ashamed of myself for exploring these topics and thoughts in the only way I knew how. Possibly the only healthy option for me at the time. I feel so bad for kids like me who are growing up on the internet, seeing confirmation of their fears that people will see them as a bad person for creating that type of fiction. For even entertaining those ideas in your head. I hope they turn out okay and reclaim some creative liberty for themselves.
And honestly? I may need to nourish that ashamed little kid inside me too. I haven’t written in years; I lost all motivation some time in 2020. And when I think back on everything I’ve ever written, when I think of those dark fics, I hate to admit it, but they’re the only thing I truly ever wrote for myself and myself only, without showing anybody else. And that’s important I think. I want to rediscover my creative process, and uncover all the little things about myself I’ve been pushing down for years.
Art is healing and art is discovery. Antis can stay mad that we’re doing these things through obscene means. It only encourages me more. And I hope to do the same for others.
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Do you write for 2012? If so I wanted to know if you write Donnie but if not this can be for Mikey (aged up if you want to put it)
Date night for reader and the turtle (2012/of your choice) , reader teasing the turtle under the table as the waiter/waitress is trying to talk to them to hear their order but some words coming from their turtle boyfriend is slightly slurred (reader can be female bodies but overall gn 🤷‍♀️). After date night (turtle of choice) drags reader to their shared bedroom and then the fun starts 👍
If requests aren't open ignore me 🙌 byeee ✨
Table Tease (18+)
2012!Donatello x reader
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A/N: I do write for 2012, I just haven’t done a lot for them yet😅 I’ve changed it from a date night to a family dinner setting, but otherwise it’s the same. Hope you like it💜
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All characters are aged up.
Warnings: Spelling, public foreplay, turtley anatomy.
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What do you do when you’re in the mood, but your boyfriend is in a deep discussion with his oldest brother? You know what, double that. What do you do when you’re in the mood, but you and your boyfriend are sitting at the dinner table with all of his family and closest friends, eating pizza? Well, your first instinct was to push it away. You were an adult after all. You were perfectly capable of pushing any needs away for a more appropriate time. And that was what you decided to do, turning towards Donatello, so you could follow along in the conversation he was having with Leonardo. But you quickly found that your attention wandered, turning their conversation to background noise as you took in your boyfriend's appearance next to you.
You had been with Donnie for so long, yet his face, body and personality never seized to amaze you. His brilliant mind inside of his beautiful head. The way he saw the world and his intricate thoughts had always fascinated you. Almost just as much as his body did. You had always found yourself drawn to Donnie. His tall standing stature and his strong muscles. Even the small details, such as the vein on his neck that would stand out on his neck when he was concentrated, or the veins that ran down his forearms and over his hands.
His hands… If there was one thing that could send you into a dream zone, it was Donnie’s hands. The amount of times you had caught yourself staring at his hands, thinking about all the things they had done to you in the past was too many to count. And now, at the table with Donnie’s family, that was exactly what you did. Watching his hands move as he talked, remembering what they did to you last night. How they had held your legs open for him, giving him all the space he needed before devouring you with his mouth, while using his skilled fingers to bring you closer to the edge. You rubbed your legs together at the thought. Suddenly it seemed very hard to push those before mentioned needs away. And with that, an idea came to the forefront of your thoughts, bringing a smug smile to your face.
Unable to contain yourself any longer, you slowly let a hand slide under the table, before it made its way to Donnie’s knee. For you to place your hand on your boyfriend’s knee was nothing new. It was just yet another way for the two of you to show affection, just like a couple normally would. It was therefore that Donnie’s reaction to your hand was so stubble, with a sweet smile shut in your direction, before he continued his talk with Leo. He even moved his knee closer to you, enjoying the feeling of your warm hand against his skin. But you had no intention of just letting your hand rest there.
A few moments later, while you acted like you were listening to a conversation between Raph, Mikey and Casey, you moved your hand further up Donnie’s leg, letting it rest on his thigh. His leg jumped a bit at this, as a reaction to a surprise. But Donnie did not move his leg away. Instead he gave you a look out of the corner of his eye. He knew what you were doing, but he had no intention of stopping you. So therefore you let your hand slide up even further, just to the point where Donnie’s thigh met the rest of his body, your pinky finger grazing softly against his plastron. Donnie shuffled slightly in his seat at this, a small sigh flowing through his nose as he strained his concentration on Leo’s words. You bit back a smile, nodding at something Mikey said.
Your hand slowly moved across the lower area of Donnie’s plastron, until you found the slit of his already sensitive cloaca. As your pointy and middle finger slowly traced his slit, you felt him tense up slightly, his breath becoming ever so slightly heavier. You could feel the effect you had through his cloaca, the feeling it retract and twitch under your touch. You noticed how Donnie had stopped talking, and was now nodding at whatever Leo had to say, before answering with one or two words. That was when an idea made its way into your head.
Your fingers played around on the outside of Donnie’s cloaca, teasing him ever so slightly with each touch, just waiting for their moment to paunch. That came when Donnie calmed down ever so slightly, getting a little used to the feeling of your fingers against him. Then, finally, Leo ceased to talk, giving Donnie the que to talk. And as he opened his mouth, your fingers did their move. Your two fingers moved through his slit, smoothly sliding through his slice.
“I agree, that move is too slow. It should be more like-”. Donnie stopped mid sentence, his last word being stretched out and slurred. Leo looked at his brother in concern.
“Donnie? Are you okay?”, Leo asked.
“Yes!”, Donnie quickly answered, holding up his pizza slice for his big brother to see, his speech continuing to be slurred ever so slightly. “It’s just, you know, when that bit of pizza hits the right spot”. He punctuated the last word with his knee nudging against yours. In turn you asked Casey about the thing he was talking about, before thrusting your fingers into Donnie’s slit once more, threatening to make the poor guy drop on the spot. This made Donnie hide a moan with another bit of his pizza slice.
You continued your torture on Donnie, until you felt the familiar hardness against your fingers. Donnie took in a big breath, bracing himself for the drop. But then, just before he could allow himself to slip out, you removed your fingers, wiping his slick off on his thigh. Donnie snapped his head towards you, his eyes boring into you and your smug smile. Leo once again asked his brother in concern if he was okay, forcing Donnie to turn his attention back to their conversation. How Donnie was gonna make you and your smugness pay for that.
As people finished their food and got ready to leave the table, you knew you had to act fast.
“Well, that was fun”, you smiled as you stood from the chair. “Thank you so much for dinner, but I should probably get home now-”.
“Oh no, you don’t!”, Donnie exclaimed, jumping from his chair, grabbing on to you before you could walk too far. The shocked expression on everyone's faces brought him back to reality, remembering that the two of you weren’t alone. Flustered and unsure of what to do, he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, before running to his bedroom, leaving them staring after you in confusion.
Once inside Donnie’s bedroom, he slammed the door shut with a loud bang, using his foot. He wasted no time before throwing you onto the bed with a yelp. He climbed on top of you, holding your arms down by your head, and forcing your legs apart using the knee you had felt on a few moments ago. You giggled up at him, already knowing what danger you were in.
“What do you have to say for your defense?”, Donnie smiled mischievously, his face mere centimeters from yours, his thumbs stroking your wrists, and using his other leg to spread your other leg open for him.
“Upsi?”, you smiled innocently, giving your shoulders a small shrug.
“You just fingered me while I was talking to my brother, until I almost dropped right under the table, in front of my whole family, and all you have to say is; ‘upsi’?”, Donnie asked, giving you one last chance to redeem yourself.
“Yup!”, you nodded with a big smile, almost eager to see what your boyfriend was going to do about it.
Donnie tsked and shook his head from side to side, bringing your wrists to one hand, allowing his other hand to move down your body, feeling your sides as he moved his hand down to the button and zipper of your pants. “That was not the answer I was looking for, (Y/N)”.
“It wasn’t?”, you said, acting oblivious, fighting a satisfied smile as Donnie’s hand ran down past your pants and into your underwear. “I had no idea”.
Donnie’s hand grazed your sensitive folds, just like you had done to his cloaca just a few moments ago. At the feeling of your slick against his finger, Donnie smiled down at you. “Already wet?” He smoothed his finger against your wet folds, enjoying the way you curled your legs up around him. “Is that from teasing me during dinner?”
“Maybe”, you sighed, slightly grinding yourself against his finger to gain some friction.
Donnie removed his finger from your pants, causing you to whine, until he moved his attention back onto your pants, letting go off your wrists to use both hands to pull them down along with your underwear.
“Luckily for you”, Donnie said as he threw them onto the floor, before moving to pull your shirt off of you. “I feel like we’ve been through enough foreplay already”. He threw your top and bra onto the floor. “So lay back and let me fuck that tease out of you”.
Fair to say, your idea worked on Donnie like a charm.
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“there is no way anyone is that innocent” with sonny? also can you include overstim + multiple orgasms for reader? thank you!! ❤️❤️❤️
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ooops this turned out to be really long hehe but i hope you like it! thanks for the request!
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It’s been years since you had seen Sonny. After college, you had left to study abroad, and ended up staying. You had met someone, and had started your first serious relationship. Apart from visiting for Christmas, you had not been back home. 
But the break-up had been horrendous and so you packed up your stuff and returned to New York, to the comfort of your loved ones, to lick your wounds. 
The occasion was less than ideal. Your sister’s nuptials. For her sake, you kept a brave face, did everything to help her with the fairytale wedding she had always dreamed of. Your family being devout catholics as well as Italian, it had to be proper and perfect down to the smallest detail. 
And it ended up being exactly that. Although Sonny’s presence, and the fact that he looked incredibly handsome in his suit, was threatening to distract you for the entire ceremony. The priest hadn’t even gotten to the opening prayer yet and your eyes wandered, meeting his gaze as you stood by your sister’s side. He smiled in a way that made you blush, and remember all the things you had done with each other as teenagers, things your parents would probably disown you for if they ever found out. 
Following the ceremony, you had been too busy to even sit down, let alone think further about the way his lips had lingered on your upper jaw as he had kissed you on the cheek. Or the way he had whispered ‘You look so beautiful’ before your aunt pulled you away towards the car waiting to take you to the estate your family had booked for the celebrations.
But now that most of the formalities are over and the guests are eating, drinking, and dancing, you have snuck away to take some much needed drags from your vape pen, the kind filled with something other than nicotine. 
‘If you don’t share, I’ll tell.’ a male voice says behind you and you smile, turning around to see Sonny.
He looks even sexier now. He had lost the tie, and his shirt is unbuttoned just right, a bit of chest hair is peeking out. His hair no longer in its perfectly gelled state, having played with the kids in attendance all afternoon, giving countless of piggy-back rides. You catch yourself staring once more. 
‘Our parents would literally kill us.’ you hand him the vape.
‘Our parents would kill us for a lot of things, even fifteen years later.’ Sonny smirks as he takes a drag.
‘I’ll just say you seduced me.’ you shrug, reveling in the way he flirts with you.
‘And now? Seems you’re the one seducing me.’ he waves the pen at you and you snatch it from his hand.
‘I would never. All the naughty stuff? You taught me. I’d probably still be a virgin if it wasn’t for you, Sonny.’ you joke and he laughs out loud. 
‘Ohhhhh. Right. So that ex-boyfriend of yours was gonna wait ‘til marriage, huh?’ Sonny chuckles and you continue to tease.
‘Hmmm. Now I’m almost thirty and single and no one wants me because you ruined me.’ 
Sonny steps closer. ‘I want you.’ he whispers. ‘I’ve always wanted you.’
You take a deep breath. He isn’t joking around any longer. And the smug grin disappears from your face as you take in the serious implications of his words, and his actions as he lifts his hand to cup your cheek, your lips suddenly only inches apart. 
‘Sonny, I-’ you’re about to lean in when someone shouts your name. It’s your mom. Fuck. 
He sighs as you pull away, and you give him an apologetic look as you rush back towards the wedding party before your mother catches you with him, and the weed. Adult or not, you’re still a child and probably always will be when it comes to your parents, especially as the youngest daughter. 
You hate to leave him, the urge to be near him even more compelling now after his confession. There’s always been something between you. Yes, you had been kids back then; exploring, being curious, with a decent amount of teenage rebellion on top of it. Still, you would have never done this with just any boy. Sonny and you had always been each other’s first crushes, and there had always been a level of trust and intimacy with him you had not been able to find with anyone that came after. The joking, the teasing, even now it seemed you picked up right where you had left off. 
Being the younger sister of the bride aka running the errands and doing the things the maid of honor is too important to do, you are sent to get the lash glue they forgot in your room earlier. As you rummage through the mess you left behind when getting ready, there’s a knock on the door. 
‘Ugh, hang on!’ you grumble, opening this and that bag to search.
Another knock. God, fake lashes falling off can’t be that much of an emergency. 
‘Wait!’ you yell, getting annoyed.
‘Waited long enough.’ you hear Sonny’s voice say outside the door.
Oh. Oh. You drop the makeup bag back on the table and more or less leap for the door. The moment you open it, Sonny pushes into the room, pressing a heated kiss onto your lips, and you wrap your arms around his neck. You aren’t even surprised that he followed you, and that this is happening right now. In all honesty, you had hoped for it, even dreamed about it, from the second you found out he was coming to the wedding. Now, as his hands wander over your body, it’s more than obvious that he had been too. Reaching back behind him between kisses, you lock the door, and he smiles against your lips. 
‘Hmmm, guess I was right.’ he mumbles, his voice low.
‘Right about what?’ you ask sheepishly, pushing his suit jacket off his shoulders. 
‘That there’s no way anyone is that innocent.’ Sonny starts fumbling with the zipper of your dress and you turn around, making it easier for him. 
‘What do you mean? I’m a good catholic girl.’ his warm hands glide down your back as he pulls it down, revealing your dark red lace underwear. 
‘Good catholic girl, huh?’ his fingers trace along the fabric, underneath the waistband of your thong, pulling it before letting it snap back. ‘Did you put this on hoping I would take it off? I know you did. So innocent.’ 
You turn back to face him, your dress falling to the floor. Sonny draws in a sharp breath, taking in the sight of you, and you can feel the heat spreading throughout your entire body. The look in his eyes is a mixture of that boyish gleam of anticipation and the confidence of a man who knows exactly what he wants.
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ you taunt, making him laugh, but you kiss him again, with more force this time, turning his laugh into a moan. 
Truth is, nothing has ever been innocent about you when it came to him. And yet it feels so different now that you aren’t kids anymore. Even with your ex you hadn’t felt like this. It does scare you, even though it excites you at the same time. You start unbuttoning his shirt, your hands on his body like magnets, discovering just how much he has grown from an awkward, lanky boy into a man. Not that you didn’t love the awkward, lanky boy just as much. 
Your fingers wrap around his erection as your hands reach down his pants and he hisses, walking you backwards to the bed, unhooking your bra in the process. 
‘I really…have no idea…what you’re talking about.’ you repeat as you begin to pump him, endlessly thrilled by how you can already feel him leaking pre-cum, and dying to have him inside you. 
But it seems Sonny has other plans. Pushing you down on the mattress he forces you to withdraw from him, and he gets down on his knees, pulling your hips toward him, and all of a sudden his face is merely inches away from your lace-covered center. He’s so close you can feel his breath, making you shiver. 
‘Lie down.’ Sonny orders softly and you do as he asks. ‘Good girl.’ he whispers in response, and you just about soak your panties at his words.
Not that it matters, since he grabs the piece of clothing and pulls them off with one swift motion, tossing them aside. And there you are now, naked on the bed in front of him, and his long fingers slip over your clit, down your folds, playing with your wetness. Your moan is louder than you had anticipated as it leaves your mouth, and your body trembles at the prospect of what’s to come. You look down at him as Sonny spreads your legs open, his eyes staring into yours as his tongue darts out to taste you.
‘Fuck baby, you taste even more delicious than I remember.’ he purrs, again letting his tongue roll over your pussy, again making you moan. 
‘Sonny…oh my God!’ you whimper, and he grabs your thighs, settling between your legs. 
You nearly pass out. All you can do is lie there and hold on to the sheets as his adept mouth continues to work on your cunt. His tongue delves into you, drawing more slick, fucking into you softly before he’s back on your clit, and you can feel him spread your lips some more to get better access. Applying just the right amount of pressure he massages your nub, and you can’t help but reach down to run your fingers through your hair, pulling ever so slightly as he makes you shudder with every flick of his tongue. 
‘Mmm I could spend all day between your legs. I missed you.’ he groans, and you can hear his own arousal in his voice.    
You swallow hard, your pulse quickening as he keeps going, sucking on your clit while he plunges two fingers into you. 
‘Ugh, shit! Sonny! Please…’ you beg, arching your back as he starts pumping his fingers in and out, curling over your gspot.
‘What, my love?’ he asks, looking up at you curiously but you know he knows what it is you want.
‘Please…’ your voice getting more and more shaky as he picks up the pace.
‘Please, what?’ Sonny grins, licking your slit up and down, his face already wet with your juices. Oh, what a sight.
‘Please, fuck me.’ your flushed face turning even more red. You’ve never said this to a man out loud. 
‘I’m not done here yet. Not by a long shot. You gotta be patient. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?’ Sonny mumbles, his fingers pulling back a little to toy with your wet opening before shoving them back in, making you cry out in pleasure. 
You’re getting close. And you know he can feel it, in the way you grip at his hair, in the way you grind yourself against him, in the way you can’t help but clench around his fingers. 
‘It f-feels so g-good, Sonny.’ you breathe, as he mouths at your pussy, his tongue flat against you, licking from bottom to top, seemingly not getting enough of your taste. 
His fingers fuck into you harder and faster, as he focuses on your most sensitive spots. The feeling of his tongue on you paired with his pretty moans, the way he is getting so much pleasure from satisfying you, it’s all too much. You can feel the wave rolling in, your thighs beginning to shake. He had given you your first orgasm ever, and it had been so unexpected, you’d had no idea what was happening. Even the ones after had taken you by surprise, and you had mostly been shy about it. For some reason, you had always held back, especially with your other lovers, or they just hadn’t been as good at getting you there. Now back with Sonny, it was different. You are losing control and truth be told, you don’t know if you’re ready for it. 
However, you can’t stop it. The spring that’s been coiling tightly in your stomach from the second he started touching you, releases and you shake, trying your best to stifle a loud moan. You whimper and attempt to get away from Sonny’s mouth, his fingers that are still sliding in and out of you. It’s too much. It’s all too much. You sigh and finally push him away, closing your legs as you shiver. 
‘Hey…’ he exhales softly, grabbing your waist as you look at him shyly. ‘What’s that?’
‘Nothing…I just…can we just…’ you stammer, slightly overwhelmed. He looks at you confused. 
‘Oh, no. Wait. We gotta try this again. And this time you gotta relax.’ he slips his hand back between your legs, and you want to protest, being so sensitive after your climax.
He starts rubbing your clit again and you can’t help but open your legs once more, giving him access. Sonny is back on you, his tongue licking up your first release, and within seconds he is eliciting another. You close your eyes and your hands grab the sheets for hold, feeling yourself topple over again. It’s even more intense this time, your pussy and clit still swollen from your previous orgasm, having been denied to even come down from it. You spasm around his fingers again, your back arching, and this time, his name escapes your mouth in a moan, and he watches you intently as you ride out those waves of pleasure. 
But no, he still doesn’t withdraw his fingers.
‘Again.’ he whispers, circling your clit, pressing his fingers into your glistening heat as he spreads your thighs wider, and you feel like blacking out. ‘Let go, my love. Don’t think of anything else.’ 
You come. Again. And even if you tried to think of anything, you can’t. His free hand holds down your hips as your third climax crashes over you with a gush and it’s only then he pulls out of you, letting your pussy convulse and release a stream of moisture. Fuck. You don’t know what is happening but his mouth is on you again, tasting every last drop coming out of you, sloppily licking up and down your folds.
‘Good girl. Making such a pretty mess for me.’ he praises, and it finally registers in your brain. He had just made you squirt. And that definitely hadn’t happened to you before. Ever. 
‘Sonny, what the fuck?’ you choke, almost breathlessly. 
‘Language!’ he smiles as he gets rid of his pants and underwear, finally crawling up, kissing you deeply as he grabs your hips. 
The taste of you on his lips makes you even more delirious as he thrusts into you, his cock feeling bigger than ever in your overstimulated core. You whine, and you’re already starting to bliss out, again. Sonny is close just from eating you out, you can tell but he’s holding back, burying himself inside you while his thumb finds your clit. 
‘I love seeing you cum.’ he growls into your ear before his lips capture yours once more. 
And yes, you come again. There really is no point of holding back any longer. You fully give yourself over to him, and this blinding ecstasy. He really seems to revel in it, and now that he is inside of you, it is even more intense. Sonny gasps as you squeeze him, your walls beginning to spasm, making it almost difficult to pump into you. You claw at his back, rolling your hips against his as you moan a string of curse words at which he grins. 
‘You gotta stop.’ you cry, as he picks up the pace, pounding into your delicate pussy.
‘I’m not done with you.’ Sonny smirks, biting at your neck as you keep scratching and digging your nails into him.
Oh God. Good Lord. You can’t even think straight anymore. You have lost count of your orgasms, not that it matters because he seems to want to make you come as many times as possible until he can no longer hold back himself. Arching your back you meet his rough thrusts, feeling him smile against your lips as he kisses you passionately. His thumb hasn’t left your clit, keeping pressure there, rubbing to intensify your pleasure if that’s even humanly possible. You are on another plane. You might as well be on another planet. You have lost all sense of time and space, the only things to exist are Sonny and you. With each thrust, his cock hits your gspot in the most delightful way, and your body begins to curl in on itself, pussy throbbing and clenching around him. 
‘I love it when I can feel you burst around me.’ he groans, sending you over the edge to another orgasm. 
‘S-Sonny! Jesus fucking Christ!’ you scream, pressing your head back into the mattress as you desperately cling to him, shaking.
Sonny grins at your profanities; he has you exactly where he wanted you -  completely undone. He pushes up your legs, positioning them over his shoulders, fucking into you, even deeper than before. 
‘Fuck, baby, fuck, you’re so wet! Fuck!’ he’s close now, you can feel it. 
‘I want you to cum inside me.’ you purr into his ear, your words driving him crazy.
He growls, ramming into you as he plays with your clit. You know he’s going to make you come again but you want to hold back, want to feel him come with you. Crying out his name you hold on to him, purposely clenching your walls to squeeze him and he bites your lip in response, the slight pain adding to your pleasure even more. Just as you feel yourself topple over again he tenses, and as your pussy pulses, pulling him in even deeper, he finally lets go, spilling inside of you. He moans your name, pumping his cum into you, the sensation too much for your overwrought cunt. You can’t stop shaking, and he’s hugging you tightly, the two of you collapsing together. 
You don’t know how long you stay like this, breathing heavily, your bodies tangled in soaked sheets. Messy, crazy, wild, out of control; just how sex is supposed to be, and it took you reuniting with your first true love to unleash this feral side of you. 
‘What are you thinking about?’ Sonny asks, pushing back a strand of hair from your face.
‘That you were my first. And you should be my last. Because fuck, I don’t think anyone will ever make me cum like this ever again.’ you smile, kissing him.
‘Well…that was my plan all along, I’m glad I succeeded.’ he admits, pulling you even closer.
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bloodyserratus · 11 months
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pairing: choso x fem!reader word count: 5.8k synopsis: yuji's getting married and you and choso are best man and woman. it's not your wedding though, so why do your hands keep ending up on each other? themes/warnings: SMUT! mdni, plot tho i was a smidge lazy about it, masturbation, piv intercourse, nipple play, nipple piercings!choso, sub-ish!choso, switchy reader, friends to lovers.
a/n: oof. i feel like this is a bit rushed, but he caught me on an ovulation week ig. would love to know what you think!
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“YN!!”
Yuji’s familiar voice shouts your name before you can even reach the host stand. You smiled apologetically to the hostess before making your way towards him.
“Yu-ji, Yu-ji!” you hop excitedly towards the young man until you can wrap him up in a tight hug. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you! Thank you for inviting me to dinner.”
“Of course!” Yuji beamed back at you.
You glanced at the table and were surprised to see how many place settings there were. You seemed to have been the first to arrive and you wondered who all he had invited. The seats filled with Yuji’s friends one by one. Megumi and Nobara were familiar names and it was nice to finally match a face to them. You watched Yuji with curiosity, noticing that he seemed to be buzzing with a sort of unusual energy. Nerves, maybe, but you’d never known Yuji to be a particularly nervous person.
A shadow fell over you as you watched Yuji converse excitedly with his coworkers. You glanced up and did a double take when you realized it was Yuji’s older brother, Choso, standing over you.
“Oh shit,” you chuckled, squinting up at him. “Something big’s going on, huh?”
It had been many a year since Yuji had summoned both you and Choso together. Not because you didn’t get along or anything, but because your lives had simply taken you in different paths. Your work had moved you an hour from the city and so occasions where all three of you were together had grown increasingly rare.
Choso took the empty seat across from you and watched as your eyes flitted to his younger brother with suspicion. He was surprised at the sense of familiarity and comfort he felt seeing you, despite it having been probably two to three years.
Choso wondered how your parents were. You’d grown up as neighbors and your parents had welcomed Choso and Yuji as practically their own. While other adults whispered nasty things about their absentee parents, yours had shared nothing but care and kindness.
“Ay ay!” Yuji stood up suddenly, lifting a glass ceremoniously. “Thank you everyone for coming! I know it’s tough to get a big group like this together typically, so I appreciate you all making the time today.”
“As you can probably guess…I have an announcement to make,” Yuji continued, “So let's just get that out of the way.”
The woman next to him stood up and placed her hand in his.
“Yuko and I are engaged!” Yuji announced loudly.
You gasped, jaw dropping. Your eyes darted to Choso, filled with excitement. You'd met Yuko once when she and Yuji had first started dating. Granted it had been years, but time really flies! You looked on happily as the group tittered and got their questions answered.
When had this happened? Had they set a date? Would it be destination or local?
“Did you know?” you kicked Choso under the table.
“I knew he'd been planning,” he answered calmly.
“I can't believe it,” you pressed your palms to your cheeks. “I remember when they just started dating.”
“You don't get back here nearly enough,” Choso commented behind a sip of water.
“I know,” your face creased with guilt and your cheeks heated up.
Choso smiled. You still couldn't seem to tell when he was just teasing you.
“What do you think? This is a big deal,” you asked.
“Yuko’s a great girl. I think they make a lot of sense together.”
“That's great. If Yuji’s happy, I'm happy,” you grinned.
Choso nodded. He couldn't agree more. His eyes softened at the corners as he watched you. You were watching Yuji with such a fond expression.
You looked on as Yuko, Yuji, and his friends chatted excitedly. You were older and not quite a part of the friend group, so it was easy to sit back and observe. It was sweet to see the way that Yuji folded Yuko seamlessly in with his friends. They were clearly a tight knit group.
“What’s up with you these days?” Choso interrupted your quiet observations.
“Not too much, to be honest. Working at the same company. Switched roles, but mostly things are the same. You?”
“You know me. Sucking blood from kids,” he shrugged.
“Can you-?” you rolled your eyes so far back into your head that all he saw were the whites. “Must you say it like that?”
Choso was a phlebotomist at the children’s hospital. A perfect respectable career, but the way he chose to describe it was still the weirdest ever. Still it paid well and the schedule was reasonable. Choso was still giggling to himself when Yuko and Yuji appeared at your side.
“YN?” Yuji approached.
“Yeah?” you turned to the two with a smile.
“I-I…I have a favor to ask,” Yuko looked at you nervously.
“What is it?”
“Um…I don’t have much family left. I-, um. Would you be willing to help me with the wedding planning?”
“Oh!” your eyes widened as you processed the ask. “Yuko, of course! I’m so honored you asked! Thank you!”
“Thank you so much!” Yuko grabbed your hands excitedly and Yuji let out a sigh of relief.
Choso watched as you and Yuko exchanged phone numbers and made plans to meet up. He wondered if you still had the same phone number.
Your phone lit up with a message as you pulled into your apartment’s parking lot. The contact was saved as a string of emojis, so you didn’t immediately recall who it was.
[⛓️👿♟️]: ‘is this still your #?”
[yn]: ‘who is this?’
[⛓️👿♟️]: ‘...rude’
[yn]: ‘????’
[⛓️👿♟️]: ‘it’s choso’
[yn]: ‘ohhhhhhhhhh! i must’ve saved you as these emojis ages ago. my bad!’
[⛓️👿♟️]: ‘what are my emojis?? 👀’
[yn]: ‘⛓️👿♟️’
[⛓️👿♟️]: ‘plz change those. 😑’
[yn]: ‘LOL don’t judge! those are from high school’
[yn:] ‘updated!’
[💉🩸]: ‘👀’
[yn]: ‘💉🩸’
[💉🩸]: ‘🥹 please’
[yn]: ‘not taking constructive criticism. good night’
[💉🩸]: ‘so mean’
You laughed, slipping your phone back into your pocket and gathering your things. You thought as you took the elevator upstairs. Once upon a time, you, Choso, and Yuji had been much closer. You’d been neighbors since you’d been born, but you hadn’t grown close until late middle school. Choso’s mother had fallen ill and then after her passing, their father, Ken, faded into absenteeism. Your parents had been unable to do anything other than welcome them in as their own. Afternoon’s and evenings were quickly filled with Choso and Yuji and the three of you became a reliable trio.
It was nice to see Choso. He had a few more years on him and it suited him.
You might have regretted saying yes to Yuko’s favor.
Not that you would've made a different decision, but more like you would've bought a wheelchair so that you could make Choso and Yuji push you around. Because of your limited availability, weekends had been packed with venue tours, dress fittings, and even a color analysis appointment for the four of you to help Yuko and Yuji decide on a color scheme. Nearly four hours just to learn that dark jewel tones suited you and Choso best.
You exhaled sharply, trying to keep up with Choso’s long strides. Today was maid of honor’s dress and best man’s tux trying day.
“Wait up. I got little legs!” you joked, tugging on Choso’s sweatshirt.
“Oh, sorry,” he chuckled goodnaturedly. “Was lost in thought.”
“Don’t hurt yourself,” you teased, reaching up to tap him gently on the forehead.
Choso’s brow furrowed imperceptibly and he blinked down at you. He felt somehow flustered at your teasing.
“Come on!” you grabbed his hand absentmindedly and tugged him into the dress store.
“Hello!” the front desk attendant greeted you. “YN?”
“Yes! We made an appointment for nine thirty?”
“Welcome welcome! My name is May, let me show you to the fitting room,” she gestured to follow her. “We already received some notes from Yuko that we are going for jewel tones, so we’ve pulled out a handful of styles and colors to try and point us in viable directions.”
“Great!” you smiled, dropping your bag onto the couch before moving to the fitting room.
“And mister boyfriend or husband?” May turned to address Choso, “May I get you anything to drink?”
“Who?” Choso looked around. “Me?”
“Yes,” May smiled patiently.
“Water would be fine,” he answered. He must’ve misheard her.
“I’ll be right back!” she clapped her hands together sharply.
“Ooh, I love this color, but not the style,” you thought aloud as you emerged from the fitting room.
Choso agreed. As he had learned from the color analysis class, this color brought out a certain glow in your face.
You did a quick 360 for him before retreating back into the fitting room. May returned with water before you came back out with the second dress on. This one was much more suited to your shape, but the sleeves left something to be desired. A series of dresses were tried and shown to May and Choso before you tried one on that really dropped your jaw.
“You okay in there?” Choso’s deep voice checked in on you as you admired yourself.
“Yeah, I’ll be right out!” you called back, checking out the back one more time before opening the door.
“Wow…,” May’s hands came to cover her mouth with delight.
Shit. Choso sat up straight.
“I love this one,” you smiled at both May and Choso.
He nodded.
“That’s the one?” May asked kindly. “There’s absolutely no rush, so don’t feel shy about trying more on.”
“Ah, I suppose I should try a few more on, huh?” you nodded before spinning one more time in front of the trifold mirrors. This one would be hard to beat.
“Oh! I forgot! Are we taking pictures to send to the bride and groom? Or do we have full creative control today?”
“Ah shit!” you burst back out of the fitting room, holding the unzipped dress up to your chest. “We do need to take photos for Yuko. Choso, can you?” you looked toward him.
“Oh, yes, hold on,” Choso stood.
May helped to zip you back up while he searched through his pockets for his phone. He crouched back down a bit to center you in the frame and you gave him a bright smile, posing slightly. He gave you a curt nod when he was satisfied. This process repeated itself several times until you had about seven viable dress options and Choso had a veritable deck of photos in his phone for Yuko.
Then it was Choso’s turn.
“Phew! I’m glad to be back in my leggings,” you chuckled, flopping down on the couch.
“Wow, you are broad!” May remarked as she took Choso’s shoulder measurements.
Choso flushed at her comment as she moved expeditiously to his waist and then inseam.
“Are you even real?” she joked noting his shoulder to waist ratio. “Built like a Dorito chip.”
You snorted at this comment. May was kind of out of pocket and you loved it. You covered your mouth to try and hide your giggles. Choso had always been easy to fluster and apparently that hadn’t changed. Pink spread across the scrunch in his nose and crept up the tips of his ears. Despite his somewhat intimidating appearance, he was honestly adorable.
“Stop,” he whined while May pulled suits for him.
“Sorry, but that was funny,” you smiled apologetically at him, straightening your face.
“I’m not built like a Dorito!” he insisted.
“You kind of are though,” your eyes roved over him.
“You really are,” May echoed as she came back into the room with a handful of suits. “I’m gonna tell you now, we’ll need to tailor these. So I fitted to your shoulders and then we’ll pin the waist to get a sense of things now.”
Choso nodded, accepting the stack from May and retreating into the fitting room.
“So how long have you two been together?” May asked as you waited for him to emerge.
“Hm?” you looked up from your phone, “How long have we known each other? Since forever, I guess. We were neighbors growing up.”
“Ah, so you started dating more recently?”
You spat out your water.
“What?!” you looked at her with alarm. “We’re not-, what gave you that idea?”
“No?” May raised an eyebrow, giving it more serious thought. “You two look good together. It’s a vibe, I don’t know!”
Choso stepped out of the dressing room at this moment, eyebrows raised at the conversation he’d walked into.
“Oh!” your eyes widened, giving him a once over. He’d stepped out in a black suit with a deep purple dress shirt and black bow tie.
“What do you think?” he looked at you expectantly.
“You look good, man,” you nodded. “That color lady was right. Amethysty purple looks good on you too.”
“How’s the fit?” May asked, stepping towards him. “Do you have a comfortable range of motion in the arms? That’s usually the key point for suits.”
Choso moved his arms around, rotating fully above his head a few times and swinging his arms forward and backwards a few times. You couldn’t help but notice the way the shirt strained at his chest as he did so, buttons looking as if they might pop at any moment.
“It looks tight,” you couldn’t help but comment.
“It is a little,” Choso nodded, “Can we go up one size, May?”
“Sure thing!” May nodded, leaving again to grab more options.
“What do you think?” you asked behind him, watching his reflection in the mirror. “Do you want to go black suit and color dress shirt? Or do want to go color suit and black dress shirt?”
“I don’t know,” Choso shrugged, meeting your gaze in the mirror as he started to undo buttons. “I’ll try both, but I don’t really care either way. You tell me if you have a strong preference.”
“Okay,” you nodded, eyes glued to his fingers making quick work of the row of buttons.
“Whoo! Free show!” May remarked when she walked back in, quickly noting Choso’s now half exposed chest. “Here’s round two.”
“Thanks,” Choso chuckled bashfully. He was getting more accustomed to May’s bright personality.
May made a show of fanning herself as he stepped back into the fitting room. You laughed.
“I’m gonna try on the purple suit this time,” Choso called over the door.
“Sure!” you nodded.
“Okay, definitely not this,” he shook his head as he stepped out.
You had to agree. The large swath of purple was somehow…Wonkian. With a quick nod from May, Choso retreated once again, this time emerging with the black suit and purple shirt again.
“How’s that feel for sizing?”
“Good, but loose around the waist.”
“Ah yes, but that’s easily addressed,” May nodded, stepping behind him to pull darts into the shirt expertly. Like magic, the silhouette of the shirt tucked into a neat V.
“Come hold this please, YN?” she jerked her head at you. “I need to grab my safety pins.”
You nodded and grabbed the sections of fabric from May.
“This looks good,” you popped your head out from around him to remark.
Choso nodded. Your knuckles rested against the small of his back as you looked up at him. His skin prickled in a way that wasn't totally unpleasant.
“How was work this week?” you asked with a smile.
“Good,” he nodded. “Pretty busy but we were actually fully staffed, for once. You?”
“Not too bad! I'm between projects right now, so it was a fairly quiet week.”
“How is Yuji feeling about the wedding? Overwhelmed at all?”
“He seems fine,” Choso smiled.
You chuckled. That was typical, you supposed.
“Yuko seems a little overwhelmed sometimes.”
“I think so,” you nodded. “I get a panic text from her every so often. It's not too bad, just a lot of things to think about.”
Choso’s eyebrows furrowed.
“I'll talk to Yuji. If Yuko is feeling overwhelmed, he should step in and help.”
You looked at Choso with interest. Characteristically reliable.
“Found the pins!” May burst back in. “Sorry it took so long!”
“No problem,” you and Choso answered in unison.
You allowed May to pin the fabric of his shirt and Choso found himself missing your closeness when you stepped back.
“What do we think?”
“Good,” Choso nodded, tugging the suit jacket into place. “Is this color close enough to your dress?” he glanced at you.
“Oh yes, I think so,” May nodded, pulling the final dress selection out to compare.
“Then I think I'm all good,” he nodded surely.
You sent the pictures of Choso’s suit to Yuko as he changed back into his crew neck sweater and cargo pants. That was the Choso you were used to.
“Should we eat?” he smiled crookedly at you, reaching a hand out to pull you up.
“Sure!”
“I know a place,” he nodded, so you followed his lead.
You beamed at Choso excitedly. Cake tasting day!
“Excited?” he crossed his arms and cocked his head at you.
“Very! It's cake day!” you grinned goofily up at him.
“That it is,” he chuckled, glancing around for Yuji and Yuko. “I wonder where they are.”
“Will you call them? I'll go check in for the appointment at least.”
Choso nodded and you split up.
“Hello!” you greeted the front desk as you stepped in the door. “We have a ten-thirty appointment, but our bride and groom seem to be running a bit late.”
“Not to worry,” the receptionist smiled kindly at you.
“What's the word?” you asked Choso when he stepped inside.
“How do I, uh,” Choso flushed across the cheeks. “They're young and in love…and lost track of time. So they are going to be quite late. They think thirty minutes.”
“Oh dear,” your eyes widened and you looked towards the receptionist apologetically. “What should we do? I assume you're booked out quite a ways.”
“Yes,” she nodded regretfully. “If the two of you would like to proceed with the tasting and take notes for the bride and groom, I would recommend that as the best way to proceed.”
“Yes, that makes sense,” Choso nodded, “I am terribly sorry about this.”
“That's quite alright!” she smiled generously, “You’d be surprised that that's not the first time that's happened.”
You exchanged a surprised glance with Choso.
“Personally I’d love to be late because I was getting my back blown out instead of my usual reason, which is just poor planning.”
“Hah!” you let out a loud laugh at her remark, “Same, friend. While I am very happy for the bride and groom, all this wedding stuff is making me feel so single.”
Choso’s eyebrows raised with surprise.
“Hello my beautiful bride and groom!” a chef entered the room enthusiastically.
“Oh no, we're not,” you waved your hands at him.
“The bride and groom are running late so we will be taking notes for them,” Choso added.
“Ah, I see. Well when you are ready for your own wedding I hope you come back to see us!”
You and Choso both nodded goodnaturedly which seemed to satisfy the man, so he proceeded with cake samples. Yuko and Yuji had already decided on shape and tiers, so all you needed to do was provide input on flavors. You were grateful that the bakery had provided templates to take notes on because there seemed to be no end to the flavors you were shown.
“I think I hate cake now,” you mumbled to Choso at the end of it.
“Agreed. If I don't eat cake again until the wedding, I'd be just fine.”
You smiled at him.
“Oh you have some cake,” he gestured to his own mouth.
“Oh!” you licked your lips again and reached for a napkin.
“Here, let me,” Choso moved to brush the smudge off himself.
You didn't know what happened and neither did he, but at the end of the day Choso’s thumb slid into your mouth and your tongue had wrapped itself readily around it. Wide eyes met and you made a noise of confusion. Muffled by his large thumb, it sounded more akin to a moan.
Choso’s heart stopped for a moment. He was panicking but also frozen, staring at your lips pursed around his digit. Your mouth was wet and warm and he felt strongly that this was something that should have remained unknown to him. Then the friction of your tongue against the pad of his fingertip sent a jolt of adrenaline through him.
“Shit, I-,” he finally unfroze and pulled his hand back. “I didn't mean-.”
“Me neither,” you shook your head furiously. You were still hot with embarrassment when the receptionist came in to tie things up with you.
Awkward silence lingered over you when you and Choso left. Your goodbye was short and thoughts of his fingers plagued your mind as you drove back home.
Choso turned onto his stomach again. He couldn't sleep. Couldn't do much after what had happened today. Not because it was something he felt you couldn't recover from.
No, it was the want. It had settled in the pit of his stomach like a heavy weight and ignoring it wasn't helping at all.
“Fuck,” he huffed, hips grinding into the mattress. The friction was a welcome relief from the pulsating throb he’d been doing his best to ignore.
“Oh,” he exhaled sharply as he picked up the pace. He dragged his length across the soft, microfiber sheets and pictured your cheeks hollowing as you sucked around him.
He let out a ragged whine and flipped onto his back again. It wasn't enough. He propped himself up on his pillows and reached into his waistband. He cupped himself and reached for his phone. He flipped to the pictures of you saved there and zoomed in on your face. Whatever guilt he had was quickly pushed away to make room for his wild arousal. He wrapped his long fingers around himself and pumped his hips up into his fist
“YN,” your name fell from his lips repeatedly as he thrust up into his fist. His brow knotted and sweat beaded on his nose as he sought some form of relief.
You stared into the dark void of your room as you traced the shape of your lips. Memories of earlier replayed in your mind. The sensation of Choso’s thumb sliding across your lower lip. The friction of the pad pressing against your tongue. The wet ‘pop’ that sounded when he’d pulled back, panicked. You groaned, turning on your side and pressing your thighs together. Sadly it did not settle the throbbing, but it did offer some minor relief.
“Ah fuck it,”  you sighed, reaching into the top draw of your nightstand. You fished around for your trusty, purple vibrator and settled into the pillows so you could get this out of your system.
You did your best not to think of Choso. Well…you made an attempt.
But as soon as you closed your eyes, your mind flooded with images of Choso. Over you, supporting himself with his muscular arms as his eyes bored into. Under you, whimpering and moaning prettily, his face flushed from sensation. Kissing your neck from behind as his hands squeezed your hips.
You squeaked as the vibrator buzzed to live and you trailed it along your inner thighs. You wondered briefly how Choso might react to it being used on him and you gushed at the thought. He was so expressive…it would be so fun to just ruin him.
“Shit!?” you gasped, eyes opening as an orgasm rolled through you unexpectedly. You blinked in surprise. It usually took you much longer than that.
You contemplated for a moment while you still had post-orgasmic clarity. As someone who didn’t tend towards topping, it was surprising to feel so attracted and aroused by the idea of doing so to Choso. The idea of pressing your fingers in his mouth quickly pushed the clarity away. Imagining his soft, wet pants through your wet, slick fingers instead sent you straight down the path of unbridled madness instead.
“Hey!” you smiled when you saw Choso’s tall figure round the corner.
“Hey,” he smiled lazily. “Ready?”
“Yep,” you nodded, pretending as if you hadn’t spent several nights out of the last week fantasizing about this man.
You stepped into the bridal store with him. It was time for the tailored fittings. May handed you your respective garments and you both stepped into separate fitting rooms. The tailored dress fit like a glove. You smiled with delight as you spun around, getting a sense of the back.
“I love it!” you grinned at May when you stepped out. Her face lit up with delight, giving you a once over.
“You look amazing, holy shit!” she remarked.
Choso’s ears pricked, listening to you and May titter excitedly about the dress. He couldn’t wait to see you. He hurried about tucking the dress shirt into his pants and then tugging on the jacket before he stepped out to join you.
“Oh,” you breathed softly when you saw him.
He looked incredible. The suit really emphasized his broad shoulders and narrow waist. The dark purple color contrasted nicely against his skin and emphasized his eyes.
“This looks great,” you murmured, stepping forward to run your hands over the lapels. The material looked so soft.
“Ssh!” Choso jerked as if he’d been hit and you pulled back quickly.
“What?” you asked, eyebrows creased with worry.
“No, sorry,” he smiled apologetically at you. “It just took me by surprise. You grazed my piercings.”
“Piercings?” you cocked your head, staring at his chest with confusion. Heat crept up your neck and cheeks as you realized…where the piercings were.
Choso looked away, blushing too, at your realization.
“Sorry, I didn’t know,” you blinked up at him. “Can I-, um,” your hands reached out of their own accord. What the fuck were you even asking?!
“Oh, uh…,” Choso blinked. His brain wasn’t fully functioning but he knew he wanted your hands on him again. “Yeah,” he swallowed loudly.
You stepped towards him, unable to meet his eyes. You slipped your hands under his lapels and slid them across his chest. Your fingers splayed and traced over his ribcage, his toned torso, and up to his pecs. You could feel the way his chest expanded and contracted with each breath.
Choso watched you as your hands roamed. You wouldn’t look at him, but your hands explored him greedily. His breaths were shallow as your fingertips searched out his piercings. An exhale hitched in his throat when they finally met. Your fingertips were gentle as they traced the beads. He bit back a moan as your fingertips brushed against his nipples, feeling the flesh around the bar, through the fabric of his shirt. It was difficult to ignore the way he was straining against his slacks.
“Choso,” you exhaled breathlessly and looked up at him. His face was red and his brow was scrunched up.
“I-, oh?” May walked in, pausing suddenly at your proximity.
“Ah, hi May!” you turned quickly to face her.
“Hello! How are we doing in here?” she asked, eyes flitting between you and Choso slowly.
“Good,” you nodded.
“Everything fits well?”
“Yes,” Choso nodded. He was eager to wrap this up so that he could discuss what had just occurred with you.
“Wonderful!” May smiled. “Well then you can get changed back into your street clothes. Yuko requested that we hold onto the entire party’s dresses and suits until the day of the event, so they will be here.”
“Sounds good,” you nodded.
You ducked back into the dressing room and tried to get a grip. What the hell had you been thinking? You needed to eat some grass. You shook your head as you changed back into your casual clothes. You waited for a moment or two, but then wondered if he had left already. Shrugging, you supposed that you didn’t need to wait for him and so stepped outside.
“Hey,” he scared the living daylights out of you as you walked by, checking messages on your phone.
“Shit, hey,” you hissed at him with surprise.
“Should we talk?” he looked down at you, arms crossed over his broad chest.
“We should,” you nodded, “But I’m nervous.”
“What for?” he asked with a soft smile.
You supposed that was a good question. This was Choso after all.
“I just,” you huffed, “Not sure I have an explanation.”
Choso stepped forward, bringing himself toe to toe with you. He lowered his face to yours before he spoke again.
“You like me?”
You contemplated for a moment before relenting. Of course you did.
“Yes,” you met his gaze, lips nearly grazing his now.
“Would you like to act on it?”
You didn’t have to think too hard about this one.
“Yes,” you nodded.
Choso grinned and placed his hands around your waist, pulling you flush against him. He lowered his lips against yours and kissed you enthusiastically.
“I’ll be honest. You got me fired up in there,” he chuckled against your lips. “But I don’t need to go fast if you’re not ready.”
“It’s okay,” you smiled against his lips. Choso was so respectful. “You got me bad.”
“Did you drive?” he asked.
You shook your head.
“Want to come to mine?” he suggested.
You nodded and he led you to his car.
Your bodies were a jumble after he managed to unlock his door. You kissed along his jaw, down his neck, and nipped at his collarbone as he backed you towards his bedroom. You let your hands roam freely this time, tracing the flexing lines of his muscles eagerly. What the hell was he hiding under there?
As if he’d read your mind, Choso leaned back for a moment and pulled his shirt off over his head. Your mouth fell open with surprise. Your eyes traced from his face, over his shoulders, down the sides of his torso, and landed on the dusting of hair below his belly button. 
“What the fuck?” you brought your hands to your mouth. “You look like that?!” you nearly shouted at him.
“What?” he shrugged, having the audacity to be shy.
“Lay down, please,” you insisted, grabbing him and pushing him onto the bed. A body like that really did deserve to be worshiped.
You held yourself up over him and pressed a soft kiss against his chest. Choso beamed at you before you blazed a trail down his torso. You placed kisses across his jaw, down his neck, and into his collarbone. You bit gently on his full pec and paused just before his nipple.
“Is it okay?” you looked pointedly at him.
“Yes!” he nodded furiously. He was aching for you.
“Hm!” you hummed with delight and lowered your mouth to him. Your tongue rolled over the piercing, savoring the new sensation.
Choso squeezed his eyes shut as you tongued his sensitive nipple. Sweat was beading up on his nose and brow as you, knowingly or not, tortured him, pulling loud and strangled moans out of him. His large hands found purchase on your hips where you straddled him and he bucked up desperately against you, needing some sort of friction or relief.
You shivered slightly when you unlatched your mouth. It was surprising how much the sounds of Choso’s moans spurred you on.
“You. Are. So. Gorgeous.” you spoke as you placed more kisses against his serratus, lats, and abs. You nuzzled your nose against his happy trail as you pulled his sweatpants down over his hips.
Choso groaned when you grasped him at the base. You kissed your way up the underside before swallowing him into your wet, warm mouth. He was big. Your lips stretched around his girth as you sucked up and down his veiny length.
“Enough,” you were surprised when he pulled you off of him. “I need to be inside of you,” he explained.
You nodded, making quick work of your clothes. You climbed back on top of him and he positioned himself against your wet lips, spreading you apart with his fat head. You rested your forearms on his shoulders as you worked your hips, coating the dark head of his cock with your juices.
“Shitttt,” Choso groaned, deep and throaty as you teased him. “Please, I need more,” he begged.
“Yes,” you answered him simply and lowered yourself onto him completely. You moaned contentedly as he stretched you out.
Choso gripped your hips, helping as you bounced up and down his shaft. His eyes glazed over watching his cock disappear repeatedly into your juicy cunt and his hands gripped you so hard that they might bruise. He tugged you down over and over again, ramming himself into you deep and hard.
“Choso, baby,” you gasped, hands in his hair now for support as he fucked you. “I’m close. I’m so close, baby.”
Choso grinned at 'baby' and nodded, keeping the pace as your orgasm crashed through you. He found himself marveling at how gorgeous you looked as you came apart, bouncing on his cock for him.
“You good?” he asked as you recovered, still lodged deep inside of you.
“Really good,” you smiled at him, skin glowing with sweat. An idea popped into your head suddenly. “What are the chances you have a vibrator?” you asked coyly.
“Why?” he regarded you with suspicion.
“No reason,” you giggled, tracing his nipples with your fingertips gently. You were rewarded by a twitch of his cock, which was all the confirmation you needed.
“I don’t have one, sadly,” he shook his head, shuddering as you continued in little semicircles over his nipples. Your hips followed shortly, grinding against him and Choso’s breathing developed into ragged whimpers and moans.
“That’s okay,” you lapped at his other nipple with your tongue as his face got redder and redder.
“Fuckkk,” he cursed, high pitched and desperate as he grew somehow harder inside of you.
You increased speed slightly, circles tighter and faster against his pert nipples as you bounced on top of him. Choso buried his face into your neck before letting out a loud groan. He held you down on him, releasing deep inside with a few heavy twitches.
“Next time, come to mine,” you smiled mischievously at him. “I do have a vibrator.”
Choso let out a genuine chuckle before pulling you into his chest in a warm hug.
“Deal.”
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borealalice · 5 months
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Valentino finds him crouched against the wall of the motorhome that they share with Honda on the other side, still seething with white hot rage after yelling at Márquez. Screaming at him had done nothing to get the anger out of his system, and then he’d heard Marc telling the press he wasn’t even going to bother discussing Marco’s outburst, and now he’s trying very hard to calm down before he goes to congratulate Pecco. His brother doesn’t deserve that kind of negativity, and right now, Marco wants to kill somebody.
Vale crouches in front of him, one of his big hands finding the curls on the back of Marco’s head. “Ben detto” he murmurs softly. “It’s not your fault, he clearly hasn’t changed at all.”
Marco scrapes his hands over his face, wincing at his nose. “He didn’t even react when I screamed at him. Just stared, and then told someone else to remove me from his motorhome.” His fists clench. “And then he says he’s not going to waste time discussing me! Figlio de puttana!”
Vale ruffles his hair. “I’ve been telling you, he’s a crazy motherfucker. He’ll never learn.”
“Hey!” A voice he doesn’t recognize rings out on the other side of the wall.
“Hey, man, ¿qué pasa?.” That one, he’d know anywhere.
“Classy move out there today, completely sidestepping the questions.” It’s not a driver. Someone from the Honda team, probably.
Márquez snorts. “Bezzecchi is what, 23?” He must be changing out of his leathers. They’ve clearly not realised that there’s someone left on the motorhome next door, because they’re making no effort to lower their voices to avoid being heard through the paper-thin walls.
“24, I think.” Says the other voice. He’s almost 25, actually. He rolls his eyes at Vale. What does it matter that he’s young? He has half a mind to go back in there and yell at him some more. Fuck him. Youth does not mean he’s not legitimate competition, or a good driver.
“Eh, still barely an adult.” Márquez again. “Everybody is a fucking idiot in their twenties, but I’m no longer in my twenties. I know how this circus works now, and what would happen if I said anything personal about him to the press. I don’t mind giving my opinion on what he’s done on the race, or what I think he’s done on the race, but anything beyond that is a no, even if he’s a dickhead.” He pauses. Then adds, softer. “Actually, I don’t think he’s a dickhead. He’s just young, and we have both heard everything he said today before, and we both know they’re not his words. I can’t fault the kid for following a god blindly, I used to do it too.”
The world tilts three degrees on its axis. Valentino’s face goes white as a sheet.
“Look at you. Is this what maturity looks like?”
Márquez’s laugh sounds bitter. “I already said it in my documentary, but I don’t wish what Valentino put me through at 22 on anybody. 22 is a stupid age. You think you’re immortal, but you also think you’ll die if you don’t win this championship. Or not die, but the team will drop you if you stop performing, which is just as bad. There’s always someone behind you waiting to get on your bike, if you can’t stay on it. Your body can recover from almost everything, but the press and the team are already counting down the seconds until it gives out. It's an environment where it’s almost impossible to make good decisions, especially in the middle of a race where you’re going 300km/h, your only thought is that you have to be 1st, and you have 2 milliseconds to see and react to anything.” Something opens on the other side of the wall.
“You must still be angry at him. Especially after everything you heard today.”
There’s no need to clarify who “him” is. It’s clearly not Marco.
Something closes. “I’m not even angry anymore, more like. Disappointed? Disappointed with Valentino, because he was supposed to be my friend but he thought badly enough of me to believe that I’d do all those things he accused me of. Didn’t even let me explain. But also disappointed in myself, because it really is the worst feeling when you are just being yourself and your idol, friend, favourite person” - Marco can’t look at Valentino - “in the world publicly says that makes you a danger for everyone and poison for the sport you have dedicated your life to. And suddenly everybody despises you. You don’t just shrug something like that off, no matter how hard I’ve tried to pretend I have.”
There’s a metallic thunk, like someone dropping a bag on a bench.
“I can only be myself. I’ve never learned to be any other way, and I will never play mind games. I want to keep winning until I physically can’t anymore, and then retire and be done with all of this.”
“Are you going to set up your own training academy?” Suggests the other man, timidly.
There’s a meaningful pause.
“I don’t know if you’ve seen the documentary, but only two drivers came to see me before I got the surgery. A surgery that involved re-breaking my arm on several points and rotating the bone. There was a chance I might never come back to motogp, and most people didn’t care, not even my own teammate. And even younger drivers like Bezzecchi clearly believe everything that has been said of me, after all these years and after riding with me. I don’t think I will have any kind of legacy other than a number of championships and a bad reputation for my riding style. And a lot of scars and metal in my body. I don't think mentoring will ever be a possibility. I don’t think I want to teach anyone how to ride like me, when this is what it gets you.”
Marco can feel his own face drain of blood. There’s no emotion to Márquez's voice. He’s clearly thought this over plenty. It sounds practised, rehearsed, and utterly sincere.
“You still said very nice things about Rossi in a recent video, even after all of this.” 
“I told the truth.” Comes Márquez’s response. “They ask what I think about him as a driver, and that has never changed. He’s the best. Always the best.”
He sounds as certain as anything. The sky is blue, the sun is yellow, and Valentino Rossi is still the best ever MotoGP driver in Marc Márquez’s world.
Valentino’s face is doing something so raw that Marco feels filthy when he hazards a look. He averts his eyes again. 
“As I said, I’m not even mad. I would be happy if he decided to stop hating me one of these days. I still like Valentino. I think what he’s done with the academy is great, the way he’s basically adopted those kids. I try not to think much about him other than that.”
He sounds wistful, Marco realises, like part of him wishes he could have been one more of them at the ranch. Like part of him envies that they got that with Vale.
“Except when one of said kids goes to your motorhome to yell at you.”
Marc snorts again. “Hm, maybe he should have taught them better manners, that’s true. But he’s Valentino Rossi. We wouldn’t like him half as much if he had manners.” And with that, the voices finally fade, Márquez clearly done changing. And then it’s just him and Valentino, still crouched on the floor on the other side of the wall.
Valentino looks ill. Properly green, and Marco understands, because he’s feeling queasy himself when he thinks of everything he’d yelled at Marc only hours earlier, everything he has said about him loud enough for everyone to hear. 
Valentino has approximately eight years of that.
God help them both.
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thefoolsystem · 1 month
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Hello!
I had a system blog before but one of my alters deleted it. We’ll see how long this one lasts.
Name: Mae / the fool system (our alters are very shy and many do not use different names. If they ask to be identified separately, do, but most of us are fine with an over arching name)
Age: 22 (littles do not use our phone, so you can always assume you’re talking to a teenager or an adult)
Pronouns: she/they/he, some alters will specify, but you’re safe with they/them 90% of the time
We have an art blog @maetheellen
I will note that our art skill slides a lot, so if you ask for art and it’s not as good as the other things I’ve drawn, that’s why
I’m making this side blog so I can talk about my experiences as a system, and so my less experienced artist alters can draw and post art without embarrassment <3
Feel free to DM. If I don’t respond for a while, it’s because only alters who are comfortable talking respond to my DMs, so I have to wait until one switches in. I’d love more system friends. :,)
Please do not self diagnose based on my posts <3 all of the experiences I share are things that, within reason, could happen to any regular person. Do your research, be smart about it.
Finally, some DNIs and stuff
-overall anti-endo for safety (I have some pro endo, neutral, and anti endo alters, but due to the fact that endo content is extremely triggering for some alters, I do not allow it to show up in front of me) see my post tagged syscourse if you want more information about this <3
-basic DNI
update: pinning my intro comic here too so ppl can see it when they first get to my account <3
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